Murder in Murray Hill (Gaslight Mystery) by Victoria Thompson Page B

beaten, she wanted to put her arms around him, but that would be highly improper on a public street. She settled for touching his arm. He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow as they continued down the street. “Are you going to be all right? I know you haven’t gotten the inheritance yet, and—”
    “I went to see the attorney today. He said they’re still selling off the various businesses, but he put some money into an account for me to use in the meantime.”
    “That’s good.”
    “Yeah. He said he hoped it would be enough to last a month or so until everything is settled.” He cast her a sidelong glance. “It’s ten thousand dollars.”
    Sarah smiled at his consternation, somehow managing not to laugh out loud. Ten thousand dollars was more than two years’ salary as a police detective. “Oh my.”
    “I thought I’d buy you an engagement ring.”
    “You don’t have to do that.” Only rich people bothered with engagement rings.
    He raised his eyebrows.
    “Well, if you insist, that would be very nice,” she allowed. She was going to have to get used to being rich again.
    “You know what this means, don’t you?” he said when they had crossed MacDougal Street and reached the edge of Washington Square.
    “It means everything will change,” she said, trying to imagine things she hadn’t even thought of yet.
    “It means I have to tell my mother.”
    “I suppose you do, because if she finds out from the newspapers . . .”
    “My life won’t be worth living. So I have to tell her today.”
    “Yes, we do.”
    Frank frowned. “Are you sure you want to be there? My mother is bad enough when she’s happy, and I don’t think this news is going to make her very happy.”
    “I’m sure. She’ll be worried about what our marriage will mean to her and Brian, and I want to be there to answer her questions.”
    He frowned. “What
will
it mean to her and Brian?”
    They’d reached a bench, and Sarah stopped. “That’s what we need to sit down here and discuss.”
    A remarkably short time later, Frank and Sarah got up and started walking back to her house, having made some of the most important decisions of their lives.
    • • •
    F rank enjoyed the strawberry shortcake, but he enjoyed eating it with Sarah, Maeve, and Catherine even more. By the time they’d gotten back to Sarah’s house, Mrs. Ellsworth had discreetly taken her leave, which Frank found remarkable. She must have been dying to know what he and Sarah had discussed, and yet she’d decided to wait until she could wheedle it out of Sarah tomorrow. That showed remarkable restraint, Frank thought, for a woman whose life revolved around knowing everything about her neighbors.
    After a simple supper of cold ham and biscuits, Frank and Sarah made their way over to Frank’s flat on the other side of town. He hadn’t let himself think about what his mother was going to say to his news. She might be pleased or horrified or something else entirely. Of only one thing was he certain: She was not going to like the way her life was going to change.
    As he followed Sarah up the stairs to his second-floor flat in the tenement where he lived, he heard the door open. Brian would have sensed his arrival, as he usually did. Even though the boy was profoundly deaf and couldn’t possibly hear him coming, he always knew when Frank was near.
    “Francis?” his mother called.
    “It’s me, Ma.”
    She must’ve given Brian a sign it was all right to go, because he started running to the stairway. He skidded to a stop when he saw Sarah, though, and his small face lit with joy at the surprise of seeing her. He threw his arms around her as she reached the landing, and she hugged him back. His joy bubbled out of him in incoherent sounds he didn’t even know he was making. After a few moments he released her, and his small hands started making the signs he’d learned at the school to which Frank had sacrificed to send him.
    “Who’s