Otherwise Engaged by Amanda Quick Page A

disappearing into the throng.
    “Mr. Kelbrook?” She shuddered in disgust and turned back to face Benedict. “A very unpleasant man with a decidedly warped imagination.”
    “In that case, why the devil were you talking to him alone in this alcove?”
    She was startled by his tone. Surely Benedict was not jealous? No, of course not. His only concern was for her safety. She should be grateful. And she was grateful. Very grateful.
    “I assure you, he was properly introduced and our initial conversation was quite harmless,” she said. “Mr. Kelbrook expressed a deep interest in my travel articles. But then he started to ask for details of my encounter with the killer. When I declined to provide them, he resorted to inventing a few outrageous particulars.”
    Benedict yanked his attention away from Kelbrook and pinned her with a feral gaze. “What the hell do you mean by invent?”
    She cleared her throat. “I believe he was nurturing some dark fantasy that involved me being assaulted by the Bridegroom.”
    “You were assaulted.”
    “Mr. Kelbrook was enthralled by the notion that I had been assaulted in a more intimate fashion, if you comprehend me.”
    For a split second Benedict looked confused. Then cold rage lit his eyes. “He imagined you were raped? He wanted you to describe such a scene to him?”
    “Something along those lines, yes.”
    “That son of a bitch,” Benedict said much too softly.
    The icy fury in his gaze alarmed her.
    “I assured him that there had been no time for that sort of thing,” she said quickly. “I told him that I had escaped unharmed. I had just informed Mr. Kelbrook that he was as mad as a hatter and I was about to leave his company when you arrived.”
    “I will deal with him,” Benedict vowed in that same too-quiet voice.
    In spite of her alarm, Amity experienced a rush of warmth. Benedict really was determined to protect her. She was so accustomed to being on her own and obliged to take care of herself that she was not entirely certain how to respond.
    “I appreciate the offer, sir,” she said. “But it is entirely unnecessary for you to take any further action.”
    “It was not an offer,” Benedict said.
    “Benedict,” she said very firmly, “you must not do anything rash. Do you understand?”
    “Mad,” Benedict said, going abruptly thoughtful.
    She frowned. “Eccentric, certainly, and cursed with an unwholesome imagination, but I’m not sure one can label Mr. Kelbrook mad. He is not the killer if that is what you are thinking.”
    “You’re certain?”
    “Absolutely. Everything about him was different—his hands, his physical stature, his voice—everything.”
    “You said that he was as mad as a hatter.”
    “It was a figure of speech.”
    “Logan and the press are convinced that the Bridegroom is quite mad,” Benedict pointed out.
    “Well, surely no sane man would go about murdering women. What are you getting at, sir?”
    “It just occurred to me that we might be overlooking a rather obvious clue. If the killer is truly mad, it is quite likely that someone who knows him well—a member of his family, perhaps—is aware of his unnatural behavior.”
    She considered that briefly. “You may be right. But you know how it is when there is a streak of insanity in the family. People will go togreat lengths to conceal it. Rumors of madness in the bloodline can destroy a high-ranking family. The other members of their social circle will refuse to allow their sons and daughters to take the risk of marrying into a clan that is perceived to be tainted by madness.”
    “On the other hand,” Benedict said evenly, “a host of eccentricities and extremely odd behaviors can be overlooked.”
    “Well, there is no doubt but that what some might call madness has been passed off as merely eccentric behavior,” she said. “A tendency toward cold-blooded murder, however, can hardly be labeled an eccentricity.”
    “Such a tendency cannot be called insanity,