A Most Agreeable Murder (Beatrice Steele, #1)

by Julia Seales

Beatrice thought fleetingly that if something terrible did happen, at least it would be something new. Immediately, her throat tightened with guilt. She did not want something bad to occur. Boredom was preferable to distress. Wasn’t it?

“Beatrice’s mind is completely uncorrupted,” Louisa said earnestly. “She has just the sort of intelligence men adore.” “Louisa is right,” Beatrice said, matching Louisa’s earnest tone. “I have received many love notes about my wit. Though they are often disguised as strongly worded letters which request I hold my tongue.”

“What a rude man,” Mrs. Steele sniffed. “You don’t know the half of it,” Beatrice breathed, her entire body feeling hot with mortification. How dare Drake reject her before she even had the chance to reject him? It was incomprehensible.

“The rest of you will be escorted to separate chambers, to rest and recover proper bearing. Just because something horrible has occurred, it does not mean we must become hysterical.” “Doesn’t it?” Miss Bolton whimpered. “No,” Mr. Ashbrook said firmly. “After all—we are English.”

“Who in their right mind would ever live in this quagmire?” he yelled when he had finally caught his breath. “It’s very lovely in the summer,”

“Beatrice,” Louisa said, her voice soft, “be careful.” “I have seen your good name besmirched, my own reputation destroyed, a young man killed, a family friend murdered in cold blood, my family terrified, and a ball completely ruined. I am furious,” Beatrice said. “When I find the killer, it is they who should be scared of me.”

“You and Daniel were friends, clearly, and you were the obvious choice to be his wife. Yet he had not made you an offer. Would a true friend have left a lady scrambling? He would have known about your concern for your family’s future and your dire financial situation. If he cared for you, wanted a wife, and had no reason to object, why wouldn’t he marry you at once? He was protective of you, concerned with your reputation, suggested that you assist me, and declared you the most upstanding woman in Swampshire. You are personable, witty, attractive….” He cleared his throat. “I mean to say, there is nothing objectionable to your looks.” “You flatter me,” Beatrice said dryly, but her cheeks felt warm. “The point is, there was no reason for him not to make you an offer of marriage. And then I remembered something that my mother wrote once in a letter to me.” Drake drew in a deep breath. “A single man in possession of a good fortune sometimes is actually not single. He’s often a total liar.”