Regency Rumors (The Sinclair Society Series, Book One)

Epilogue

I wasn't sure whether to be pleased with the fact that I could add yet another new experience to my life. Wedged between a stout woman and a tall, thin man was not exactly comfortable. "What takes you to Bath?" the portly man across from me asked.

"It's where my new employer resides." And where I would be sure to find the next clue to solving my brother's murder. Bridges' may not have had anything to do with it, but somehow he'd come by my brother's paper knife, and I wanted to know how. Of course, I could say nothing of this to the other passengers.

He nodded in understanding and then promptly closed his eyes. A snore came from him a moment later, and I bit my lip to keep from smiling. "Men," the woman next to me muttered. "Never trust them, my dear. They will bring you nothing but trouble."

Glancing over, I gave a nod of acknowledgment. Then she too drifted asleep, her chin coming down to rest on her chest. With the other passengers either sleeping or their attention elsewhere, I took the opportunity to open my reticule and withdrew two letters. I glanced at the first, scanning Henry Bladen's writing for a moment before secreting it back inside. I unfolded the second and reread the words I'd almost committed to memory.

Miss Nelson,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and fully recovered from your ordeal.

I bend the rules of propriety this once to share with you the news that Bridges was found dead in his cell. No one knows who smuggled a knife in and killed him. I can only assume that it was the man to whom he passed the information he stole from Mr. Burnham.

Bridges had his suspicions about you from the moment you stepped into that house. It is highly likely that he told his contact of you.

Be careful, Miss Nelson. This man has killed once and may do so again.

O. Harper

P.S. This paper knife was found in the Burnham's garden. I believe you used it to defend yourself. I return it to you in the hopes it may aid you in the future, whether it be to trim a sheet of writing paper or to ward off an attacker once again.

O.H

Breathing out, I returned the letter to my reticule and felt the cold blade of the page knife. Having it near reassured me. I turned my gaze to the passing scenery, bringing me ever closer to the last place my brother had been alive.