Read Online Shadow Waltz by Amy Patricia Meade - Free Book Online

woman’s hand. “We’re excited too. We’re just not sure what kind of wedding we want yet. But, if we can get enough time, we’ll try to arrange everything this week. I can’t make any promises because we have some things to … to …”
    â€œWrap up?” Creighton offered with a grin.
    â€œYes, wrap up,” she shot him a snotty look. “But I’m sure we can work something in. And whatever won’t fit this week, we can do the week after.”
    Creighton nodded. “God willing,” he added sotto voce.
    â€œGood!” Mrs. Patterson giggled excitedly and raised her glass of iced tea. “To making a perfect wedding.”
    Marjorie and Creighton clinked their glasses. “To making a perfect wedding,” they repeated before taking a sip of their beverages. As they drank, their eyes met and it was apparent that they share d the same thought.

    Creighton leaned against the fireplace mantle in the study of Kensington House, the Georgian mansion he had purchased just a few months earlier. Since then, he had done much to make it into a beautiful, yet cozy, living space, replete with classic charm as well as the most modern amenities.
    â€œSo now, not only do we need to solve this case before Jameson does, but we need to simultaneously arrange for a church ceremony, plan a reception menu, and you have to select a wedding gown? Throw a book deadline into that mix, and you’ll have the makings of a complete nervous breakdown.” He swirled a fair amount of brandy in a crystal snifter. “I don’t know why you didn’t just tell Mrs. Patterson about the murder. It would have bought us more time.”
    Marjorie was ensconced in a high-back wing chair, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Since the rain, the evening had turned quite cool and breezy—a portent of the autumn days soon to come. She swirled her brandy pensively. “I didn’t want to hear her lecture me about how I think too much about death and not enough about life. You heard the way she carried on about the missing person’s case. Could you imagine if we had told her the truth?” She sighed. “Besides, she’s so excited about our wedding.”
    â€œI am too, darling, but let’s not forget that it is exactly that: our wedding. No one else’s.” He knelt before her and kissed her passionately. “I’m anxious to call you my wife, but I don’t want to get ourselves stuck in a wedding that meets everyone else’s expectations but yours. I want you to be happy—I’m sure you’ve dreamed of it since you were a little girl. As for me, I’d be satisfied with any ceremony that made you Mrs. Ashcroft. But what about you, darling? What do you want for a wedding? What’s your idea of perfection?”
    â€œI don’t know. I used to think that it was a church wedding with lots of flowers and the entire town in attendance, but now—now, I just don’t know.” She sighed and took a sip of brandy. “Although maybe this isn’t the right time. By tomorrow morning I’ll be my chipper old self, dreaming of orange blossoms and white chiffon. But for now …”
    Creighton nodded. “I’m having trouble forgetting it too.” He rose from his knees and plopped into the wing chair opposite his fiancée. A few minutes transpired before he spoke again: “Stay here tonight, Marjorie.”
    The young woman’s eyes grew wide.
    â€œNo,” Creighton clarified. “I don’t mean it that way. Just stay here so that—well, life is very short isn’t it? Fragile even. One moment alive and well, the next moment lying in a dank cellar or God knows where else.” He blinked back the tears in his eyes. “Stay here tonight, Marjorie, so I can look after you and know that you’re safe.”
    Marjorie laughed softly. She understood the fear Creighton harbored, for the loss