An Affair with Mr. Kennedy Read Online Free PDF Page A

dynamiters without the proper rest.” She sniffed. “And I’d be happier if those bruises and cuts looked a sight better.”
    “To ease your mind, I shall endeavor to heal as quickly as possible.”
    “Sleep would go a long way, sir.”
    “For your edification, take a moment to observe the furnishings carried into Number Ten by the drayage laborers.” He checked his pocket watch. “Perhaps you might find an object of interest? An unusual item or two that could tell us something about our new neighbor?”
    He kept one eye on the furrowed brow of his housekeeper as she concentrated on the comings and goings below. “Come now, Mrs. Woolsley. Do you not apprise me on a near-constant basis regarding your inborn talent for sleuthing?”
    Alma hesitated. “Might our new neighbor have an interest in the arts?”
    “An interest or an avocation? You must elaborate.”
    “I’ve counted several easels as well a large roll of sailcloth. And a number of instrument cases. Might they hold brushes, oils, charcoals, turpentine, and the like? I believe she could be a painter if I am not mistaken.” Alma’s eyes widened as she awaited his reply.
    “A very good start, Mrs. Woolsley.”
    She snorted. “Not a difficult deduction, beggin’ your pardon, sir.”
    He pressed his lips together. “I suppose it is an observation that, no doubt, a simpleton could discern. Might the lady in question be a serious artist or would you call her a dabbler, perhaps as a hobby?”
    Alma tilted her head. “Why, I believe the former, sir. Why else all the equipment?”
    “Excellent perception. And what style of painting, what school of artists might she be identified with?”
    “Mr. Kennedy, how might I know what the lady paints without an opportunity to see the paintings themselves?”
    His focus shifted to the arrival of a town coach as it pulled ahead of the furniture van. Zeno ticked off numerous observations, including an elaborate coat of arms. The Rosslyn crest, no doubt. Zeno reminded himself of his new tenant’s connection to the Earl of Rosslyn, Gerald St. Cloud.
    A woman of an age near middle twenties emerged from the carriage. Stringing behind her on long leads were two tail-waggers—tricolor foxhounds. The young lady waited patiently for the dogs to assess the distance from the coach floor to the ground before they made a scrambled leap to the street.
    She wore a slim skirt with a modest bustle. A crisp white shirt under a formfitting jacket denoted a shapely figure. Comically, a hound’s leash caught in her skirt. She quickly raised the hem, exposing a trim length of leg as sheuntangled the frolicking animal. Zeno politely redirected his attention to the sunlight rimming her hair, which glowed a honeyed brown color under a smart straw boater.
    “My word, she appears to be a handsome, athletic sort of young lady.”
    The near thrill in his housekeeper’s voice caused him to raise a brow. “Kindly explain how you might come to the conclusion that Mrs. St. Cloud is athletic?”
    “Is that her name?” Alma sighed. “Very pleasing and romantic, wouldn’t you say, sir?”
    “Answer the question, please.”
    “Well,” she hesitated, “there are the hounds, which indicate—”
    “Nothing.” He frowned. “They could be leftover runts from a large litter of sporting dogs the lady decided to rescue and make into house pets. You’ll have to do better than that, Mrs. Woolsley.”
    “There is the matter of a very fine new horse in the stables. Arrived just yesterday, late in the afternoon. I happened to overhear instructions to the groom.”
    Zeno tore his gaze away from the street. “Which were?”
    “The new tenant,” Alma stammered, “Mrs. St. Cloud, that is, enjoys an early ride most every morning. Weather permitting, sir.”
    He quirked up the ends of his mouth. “Mrs. Woolsley, I believe you are soon to be graduated to an occasional research contract with the firm.”
    “Does that mean I get to spy,