No Ordinary Affair by Fiona Wilde, Sullivan Clarke Page A

done. I could redeem myself by being a better wife.
    I arrived at the shop determined to work and grateful that Miss Parsham had not scheduled any outings for that day. Her company and ever-present list of demands would keep me adequately busy and leave no time to reflect on my tawdry behavior or the man who so successfully brought it out in me.
    At lunch I half-expected Ethan Willoughby to walk through the door, so much in fact that when I heard the bell I jumped a little. But I was pleased to see not him, but Helen Costin, the wife of the accountant who kept the books for Curiosities.
    “Helen!” I said with a smile as she walked over. As she did I instantly took note of her appearance. It was vastly improved since our last meeting. With her husband Tristan’s business doing so well, Helen had plenty of time to indulge her interests. Her favorite was horseback riding, and despite her stunning face and figure it was rare to see her out of her barn clothes. Today, however, she was wearing a lovely blue dress and matching heels and her usually braided hair hung loose in glossy waves to her shoulders.
    “You look absolutely gorgeous!” I said.
    She laughed. “Do I? It’s odd, I’m sure, seeing me like this. I just got tired of dressing like a stablehand.
    “I bet Tristan loves your new look,” I said with a smile.
    “Tristan?” she snorted a laugh. “He’s so busy I could walk by with a flashing light on my head and he’d not take notice. I think he’s become married to his work, that one.”
    “Oh yes, it can seem that way,” I commented. “I know I feel that way about Mark at times. If it’s not school then it’s some activity associated with it.”
    “Yes, they can be quite blind to our needs can’t they?”
    “Good Lord, listen to you two.” Miss Parsham stood there, her lips pursed in disapproval as she stared at the two of us over her glasses. “You act as though your husbands are beating you three times a day rather than out there working to do their part. I’d have given anything to have found a man willing to do that. However, it was never in the cards for me.”
    “Well sometimes getting married isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Helen said.
    “Maybe,” Miss Parsham said. “Maybe not. I suppose the grass is always greener.”
    She walked away with a laugh, leaving us standing there.
    “So what can I help you with?” I asked, changing the subject.
    “My Aunt Chloe. She mentioned she was in here a few weeks back and you had the most unusual watch, a little cuckoo clock..”
    I sighed. “We did, ” I said. “But that gentleman b ought it. The one who moved to the Drumlin place. Ethan….”
    “…Willoughby?” she finished my sentence and stood looking at me, a shocked expression on her face. “You know him?”
    “No,” I stammered. “I don’t know him. He’s been in here once or twice and made a purchase or two.   He introduced himself.  We... uh... chatted."
    Helen stared at me, her friendly expression completely gone. She looked tense now, and suspicious, her eyes looking me up and down as if sizing me up. I felt extremely uncomfortable.
    “That’s a lovely outfit,” she said. “I just realized that you’re a bit more dressed up than usual, too.”
    I touched my hand to my collar. “Yes,” I agreed. “I just decided to….”
    I looked at her then and saw her eyes narrow a bit.   “Have you seen his place?” The question was put to me sharply, as if she were daring me to give her an answer she didn’t want to hear.
    “You mean the Drumlin’s place? Why, I…no.”
    “You’re positive?” Her tone was somewhat shrill, and it made me angry.
    “Excuse me, Helen, but if I had why would it matter? Drumlin ' s is a place of historic significance. Is there something about the place that’s dangerous? You seem upset about something and I’m frankly at a loss to understand what.”
    The question seemed to bring her back to herself.
    “No,” she said