Move Your Blooming Corpse by D. E. Ireland

darling.” Freddy wiped his mouth. “What about your father’s horse? Did it win?”
    He and Clara sat enraptured while she told them about the Donegal Dancer’s victory and her winnings, how Tracery trampled Harold Hewitt, and the awful discovery of Miss Price in the stables. Higgins added a few details. Jack fielded questions from Colonel Pickering since he had left soon after the body was discovered.
    Freddy grabbed Eliza’s hand. “Darling! Do you realize how thrilling this is?”
    She pulled away in shock. “Murder isn’t thrilling.”
    â€œNo, no, I didn’t mean that. But with your winnings at Ascot, we now have enough money to marry and set up a flower shop.” He smiled at everyone around the table. “It’s long past time since we announced our formal engagement.”
    â€œFor the last time, Freddy, I never agreed to marry you.”
    â€œBut darling—”
    â€œNo. I mean it.”
    â€œBut you got yourself into such danger with that awful murder business in May. I only want to keep you safe.”
    â€œI’m perfectly safe. And don’t look so crushed. I’m simply not ready to marry. We discussed the matter before you left for Brighton. Besides, nothing happened to me at Ascot.” She looked over at Clara. “Lady Saxton was so disappointed you weren’t there. The Viscountess wants to introduce you to a few suitable gentlemen.”
    Clara gasped with delight. “Tansy said that?”
    â€œYes. Rich ones, too.”
    She trembled with excitement. “Oh, oh! How wonderful to be a rich man’s wife!”
    â€œI know a score of rich men’s wives who would disagree with you,” Sybil said with a weary sigh. “A man with money and influence tends to be more arrogant than his less fortunate brothers. And far more disagreeable, too.”
    Eliza was pleased by her remark, since she agreed. Lord Saxton was certainly no prize.
    Clara appeared baffled by what Sybil said. “The worst fate is to remain a spinster. Especially for a woman without means. For the rest of her life, she is nothing more than a burden on her relatives. And an object of pity.” She shuddered. “I’d rather be dead.”
    â€œIn this day and age,” Sybil said, “with opportunities to work outside the home, a spinster need not be a burden on anyone.”
    â€œShe would still be unmarried,” Clara protested.
    â€œI would gladly have remained unmarried and free of household duties, but I met Jack. Then again, he’s far more enlightened and intelligent than most men.” She blushed. “Handsome, too, which is why I’m looking forward to our wedding in August. I’m also lucky he agrees with my views on women’s rights.”
    â€œYou can still support the cause by writing articles,” Jack said, “as long as you don’t get arrested again.”
    â€œArrested? Suffrage sounds too much like suffering to me.” Clara sipped her tea. “I’ll take marriage and an adoring husband over voting rights any day.”
    Eliza was tempted to mention Lady Tansy’s unhappiness with her unfaithful drunkard of a husband. Then again, why dash Clara’s hopes? All young women had romantic dreams. Harsh reality would eventually intrude. Meanwhile, if Lady Tansy wanted to set her up with a rich gentleman, so be it. Eliza had her hands full fending off Freddy.
    Thankfully, Sybil changed the subject back to Harold Hewitt. “I don’t understand why he carried a suffrage flag onto the track.”
    Jack shrugged. “He wrote in his diary about attending Miss Besant’s lecture. But who can say why? Hewitt seems to be a confused and unstable man.”
    â€œHe must be,” Pickering said. “I’ll never forget seeing Tracery run the poor fellow down. How remarkable he wasn’t killed.”
    â€œSeveral suffragettes witnessed Emily Davison’s