Marrying the Marquis by Patricia Grasso Page B

interview the tavern’s customers the night of the murder.”
    “Where are Bliss, Sophia, and Serena?”
    “The cowards have taken themselves into the village,” Raven answered. “I suspect they will return after the bachelors have gone.”
    “The marquis knows nothing about the murder,” Blaze told her. “Watch the bone sucker. I feel he may be involved.”
    Raven raised her left hand to wiggle her fingers in front of her sister’s face. “My star ruby will warn me of danger.”
    “Come, Puddles.” Blaze walked out of the bedchamber, asking, “How does the ruby do that? Do you hear the word danger in your mind?”
    “Stones cannot speak,” Raven said. “The ruby darkens to blood red.”
    “When I communicate with animals,” Blaze said, “I hear words or see images in my mind.”
    With the mastiff between them, the sisters walked down the corridor to the main staircase. The drawing room was located on the second floor.
    “Here you are, my darlings,” the duchess greeted them from her chair near the hearth. “Blaze dear, violet whisper is a superb shade on you.”
    “I thought the gown was purple,” Blaze said, sitting on the settee opposite her stepmother’s chair.
    The Duchess of Inverary dropped her gaze to Puddles, wagging his tail. “The dog does not belong at afternoon tea.”
    “Whoever marries me will also be marrying Puddles,” Blaze told her. “If Puddles leaves, so do I.”
    “Then your dog must stay, of course.”
    “Sister, sit beside me,” Blaze said.
    “Raven, sit on the sofa,” the duchess ordered. “One of the gentlemen may wish to sit on the settee.”
    “That’s the reason I want Raven beside me.”
    “Yes, I know.” The Duchess of Inverary gave her a serene smile. “I must warn you that some in Society may remember the details of your mother’s tragic ending.”
    “Mother passed away five years ago,” Raven said.
    “Why would anyone mention it now?” Blaze asked, glancing at her mother’s portrait.
    “Society mamas envy my matchmaking successes,” the duchess answered. “I did engineer royal husbands for Fancy and Belle. Anyway, if anyone references your mother’s death, you will tell me the person’s identity, and I will deal with her.”
    Blaze prayed no one would mention her mother’s death. Doing so would be unhealthy for that person. Nanny Smudge had taught them to fight their own battles and she refused to relinquish that pleasure to her stepmother.
    Puddles lifted his massive head and looked toward the door. Cookie man come .
    Tinker walked into the drawing room. “The Marquis of Awe has arrived.”
    “I told ye, man, there’s no need to announce me.”
    “I enjoy announcing guests.”
    Blaze smiled at the exchange. MacArthur looked breathtakingly handsome in his customed-tailored jacket, waistcoat, and trousers. She couldn’t decide whether she preferred him dressed roughly for working with horses or the more sophisticated marquis.
    She felt the butterflies winging and the melting sensation. Did the sight of him make her ill? Or was the cause something more dangerous…like desire? She’d never felt desire or even a fondness for any gentleman.
    Ross MacArthur looked at her and caught her smile. He greeted the duchess first, nodded at Raven, and then sat on the settee beside Blaze.
    The Duchess glanced in the direction of the empty doorway. “Tinker, you may begin serving.”
    “Yes, Your Grace,” the majordomo answered from the hallway.
    Ross turned to Blaze. “Ye look lovely like the butterfly in yer hair, but”—he reached down to remove the bow from the dog’s collar—“but men dinna wear ribbons.”
    “I chose a blue ribbon.”
    Ross reached into his pocket to produce a napkin with three cinnamon cookies. He set the cookies on the floor for Puddles.
    “You know the way to win my stepdaughter’s regard,” the duchess teased him.
    “Bribery comes easily to us Highlanders,” Ross said with a smile. “The lass willna care for