Arsenic with Austen Read Online Free Page B

curiosity about herself, Brock, the house, her plans; but she turned aside all questions with a smile. Jamie MacDougal’s freckled and grinning countenance made a welcome break from all the strange ones, but he only shook hands and moved on. His grin faded when he came to Brock, who seemed determined never to budge from her side.
    She wished Brock would drop the barnacle act. Why did he persist in clinging to her? It couldn’t be for the pleasure of her company; she’d said as few and as neutral words as possible, and she’d long since abandoned hope of keeping a man at her side by virtue of her feminine charms alone. She must have five or ten years on Brock, and each of those years had left her a memento of its passing in the form of gray hairs, wrinkles, and extra pounds. Amazing, really, that Luke had recognized her.
    Think of the devil. There he was before her, tipping his uniform cap with his old teasing grin. “Sheriff’s Lieutenant Luke Richards at your service, ma’am.”
    She was tongue-tied. All she could do was look at him. In fact, she couldn’t stop looking at him. She willed Brock not to notice.
    Luke’s eyes cut to Brock for a second, then he inserted himself between them. “Don’t you think it’s time for a breath of fresh air?” he said to Emily, then to Brock, “You’ll hold the fort here, won’t you?”
    Brock gaped but could hardly refuse.
    Smooth, Luke. Smooth as rich dark chocolate sliding down her throat. Smooth as his kisses on her lips, her neck, her ear … No. Don’t go there. Don’t ever go there again.
    Luke took her elbow. The same touch on the same body part, but oh, how different his touch felt from Brock’s. How was it possible that thirty-five years could make no dent in the power of that touch?
    But before they could move, an immense woman draped in a chartreuse-and-violet muumuu blocked their path. “Rita Spenser,” she boomed in Emily’s face. Her halitosis combined with her pungent body odor nearly made Emily gag, while her fuchsia-dyed hair styled à la Phyllis Diller made Emily wonder if someone had dropped acid in her drink.
    â€œYou’re from Portland, aren’t you?” the whale woman thundered. “What do you do there? Are you married? How long do you plan to stay in Stony Beach?”
    Between Luke’s touch on her elbow, so familiar and so utterly strange, and the whale woman’s assault on her other senses, Emily was so discombobulated, she couldn’t resist the barrage of questions. She answered most of them, truthfully but as briefly as possible, sensing Luke’s growing impatience at her side. Before the whale woman released her, she heard a ring from the direction of his pocket. He answered the call, listened briefly, then swore under his breath.
    He interrupted the whale woman without apology. “Emily, I gotta go. Fender bender south of town. But we have to talk. Soon.”
    She turned to him and saw all the turmoil he’d stirred up inside her mirrored in his eyes. She nodded, her mouth dry. And then he was gone.

 
    four
    She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste.… At that moment she felt, that to be mistress of Pemberley might be something!

    â€” Pride and Prejudice
    Brock had melted into the thinning crowd. Emily sped the departing guests on their way with gracious smiles and thanks-for-comings. At last, thinking herself alone but for the caterers cleaning up in the dining room, she fell onto a couch in the parlor, kicked off her pumps, and put her feet up on a cushion—only to hear Brock’s voice, once again, at her elbow.
    â€œGlad that’s over. What a mob!”
    She peered at him from beneath the arm flung over her eyes. “Yes. I’ll be glad to be alone.” Surely that hint was broad enough.
    But no. He threw