Текст книги "The Counterfeit Lady"

Автор книги: Kate Parker

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

CHAPTER SIX

IN the early afternoon, Emma and I took the sweltering omnibus most of the way to our borrowed home and then walked in the glaring sunshine to our doorstep in time for luncheon. As soon as I gobbled down a light meal, Emma had to dress me for afternoon calls.

Before I’d finished dressing, a maid brought up a card from Sir Henry Stanford. “Tell him I’ll be down in a minute, and let Lady Monthalf know he’s here. Emma, help me get ready, please.”

As soon as the last pin was in my hair, I rushed downstairs. Phyllida was already in the parlor discussing the weather.

Sir Henry rose to his feet and said, “Mrs. Monthalf. How nice to see you again.”

“And you, Sir Henry. Did you enjoy the musical evening last night?”

“I would have enjoyed it more if you had been sitting with me.”

“I’m sorry. Ranleigh has always been a bit arrogant.” It felt disloyal, but I needed Sir Henry on my side if I were to discover his secrets.

“Unless he’s already claimed tonight, I’d like to take you ladies to dinner and then to the theater. The Lyceum is showing the last Shakespearean play of the season.”

“I’d enjoy that. And you, Phyllida?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Then I’ll pick you up by carriage at a quarter to seven.”

“Are we having dinner at your home, Sir Henry?”

“Yes. I’m throwing a small dinner party and then we’ll go on to the theater.”

“Wonderful.” I’d received a heaven-sent opportunity to search his study during dinner. If the thief had passed the plans to Sir Henry, this might be my best chance of recovering them.

Once Sir Henry left, Phyllida and I were to travel by hired carriage to the homes of several women. We’d drop off our calling cards to announce my arrival, as Georgina Monthalf, widow of Mr. Edgar Monthalf, newly arrived from the colonies. Hopefully, the interest that both the Duke of Blackford and Sir Henry Stanford had shown in Mrs. Monthalf would already be making the rounds of afternoon gossip.

“We’ve been invited to stop by Lady Ormond’s this afternoon,” Phyllida said as she settled herself on the scorching black leather seat in the carriage.

“Was she at the musical evening at Lord Francis’s?” The lowered windows let in more heat than they allowed to escape.

“Yes. She was the most awful gossip thirty-five years ago when she was Lady Mildred Fessent. From the way she was studying you and the duke before she invited us to stop by today, I’d guess she’ll be hunting for more details to pass around London.”

Phyllida gave me the address and I passed it on to the driver. Traffic was slow moving in the heat and it took us five minutes to arrive at the Ormonds’ unremarkable town house in the middle of a block near our new home.

We climbed out of the carriage and walked our calling cards up to the door. A young footman answered, held out a silver tray for us to put our cards on, and had us wait in the hall. He climbed a flight of stairs with the tray to the main parlor. As soon as he was out of sight, Phyllida said, “He’s barely out of the nursery.”

“Perhaps he’s just begun his training,” I suggested, looking around the empty hallway, where old framed silhouettes decorated otherwise bare walls.

“Mildred always fought a battle between having everything perfect and being miserly. At his age, his wages would be minimal. I guess miserly won out.” Phyllida shook her head.

I didn’t get a chance to warn her to keep quiet before the rapid steps on the stairs proclaimed the boy’s arrival. “Her ladyship is this way.”

We followed at a sedate pace and walked into a parlor full of statues. Busts covered every table. A full-sized Greek maiden stood between two windows. A piece of a frieze stood in a corner. After we finished our round of curtsies, I asked, “Are you a collector?”

“Not me. My late husband. He shipped them back from Italy and Greece when he was a young man. Aren’t they lovely?”

“They are,” Phyllida said. “Thank you for inviting us today, Lady Mildred. I’m so happy to have dear Georgina here so I can introduce her to all my friends.”

“It’s lovely for you to have family around you again, after—” Lady Ormond gave a sniff as if something smelled bad.

“And I’m so happy to finally get to see London,” I added with a big smile.

“You weren’t presented at court?” Lady Ormond asked, the beginnings of horror etched on her voice.

“No. I went overseas to join my father before I would have been presented. I married overseas and lived there until my husband died.” Phyllida and I had never completely organized my story, and I was starting to worry.

“What did he die of?” Lady Ormond asked as she handed me a cup of tea.

“A fever.”

“So common in the colonies, I’ve heard.” There was that sniff of distaste again.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“How did you get back in touch again?” Lady Ormond was a born inquisitor.

“Who said we were ever out of touch?” Phyllida asked in a haughty tone I’d seldom heard, reminding both Lady Ormond and myself that she was the daughter of an earl.

Lady Ormond gave her a brief smile and turned her beady-eyed attention on me. “Tell me about the Duke of Blackford when he was in India. It’s a period of time he doesn’t discuss often.”

“Then perhaps I need to honor what appear to be his wishes and not say anything,” I replied with a smile. “Do you live in London year-round, or do you spend part of the year at the Ormond family estate?”

“The current Lord Ormond and I find time spent apart suits us both. As he rarely leaves the countryside, I find the London home quite satisfactory. Have you found living halfway around the world a solution to any troubles you have with whoever inherited your late husband’s estate?”

“I inherited.” I smiled and took a sip of tea.

“One of the perks of marrying a businessman,” Phyllida said with a hint of a smirk. “No entailments.”

Lady Ormond gave a smile as weak as her tea. “Are you planning to spend much time in the Duke of Blackford’s company?”

“That rather depends on the duke, don’t you think?”

“Is he planning a country house party to celebrate your renewed acquaintance?”

Dear heavens, the woman was nosy. Fortunately, there was a ritual about these visits that required us to leave after a short time. Otherwise, I would have struggled not to run screaming out of Lady Ormond’s parlor during this inquisition. I tried a neutral “I have no idea.”

Then, when it was time to leave, Lady Ormond said, “What a shame your cousin Clara didn’t survive to see you arrive in London.”

“You knew my husband’s cousin Clara Gattenger?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as eager as I felt. As a gossip, I couldn’t trust Lady Ormond’s remarks, but there might be a nugget in there.

“Not well. She didn’t go out much in society, burdened as she was with a husband who was neither titled nor wealthy.”

“I heard his ship designs were brilliant.”

“That may well be, but how often can you design a ship? They only need one design to build many ships. The Gattengers were short of money, and Clara was getting tired of doing without.”

I could hardly wait to get out of Lady Ormond’s house to ask Phyllida if the Gattengers were in financial trouble.

Her response to my question in the cab was a mulish “Kenny would never have killed Clara. Not for all the money in the world.”

I kept my doubts to myself and said, “I didn’t say he would, but could he have been involved in something that led to another person coming into the study and killing Clara? Were they short of money?”

Phyllida gave a sniff and said, “They were the happiest of couples.” Her stiff-necked gaze out the opposite window told me I’d get nothing more from her.

Mercifully, we only left our cards at our second stop, since the lady was not at home. Whether she was truly out visiting or lying down to escape the heat, I couldn’t guess. I did feel certain I hadn’t offended anyone yet and so wasn’t being snubbed.

As luck would have it, at our third stop, Lady Bennett was receiving callers in her drawing room. Since Clara Gattenger had spent the last afternoon of her life with Lady Bennett and came back “ready to do murder,” in the words of her maid, I looked forward to this encounter.

Years of training hadn’t deserted Phyllida, and I took my hints from her. She waited in the doorway for the footman to announce us, and then she strolled across the room to our hostess. I followed, staring at our hostess.

The closer I moved to Lady Bennett, the better looking she appeared. Perhaps over forty, she had been gifted with creamy skin, fair hair, wide blue eyes, and the money to dress in a style that best suited her taste and her figure. I have freckles, unruly reddish hair, and seldom any money to waste on clothes. In short, she was a woman I instinctively disliked.

“Lady Bennett, I’m Lady Phyllida Monthalf. I’m glad we called on your at-home day. I’m introducing my cousin’s widow, Mrs. Edgar Monthalf, to London society. Mrs. Monthalf has just returned from the colonies.” We both curtsied.

“How are you enjoying London, Mrs. Monthalf?” I could tell by the appraising look and fake smile that Lady Bennett had looked me over and decided she could afford to dismiss me even as she returned the curtsy.

“It makes quite a change from life aboard ship or living in the Far East. This room is lovely.”

“Thank you. I made all the decorating decisions myself.”

“How fortunate you are to have such an agreeable husband,” I said, wanting to learn as much as I could about this woman.

“I’m a widow, too. I was fortunate that my husband left me this house and the wherewithal to enjoy life.” She looked me over again. “Few women are so lucky.” Her expression said she didn’t include me in that number.

The pink sleeves of her dress were large enough from shoulder to elbow for her waist to fit through. Mauve material peeked between the pink in every pleat set into her sleeves and skirt. Her dress had elaborate dark blue and mauve trim on the wrists, waist, and hem. No doubt next year the style would be different, and she’d have new dresses made.

While I liked my yellow linen shirtwaist dress, with its pretty tucks and wide sleeves, I’d remake mine as I had time. My dress was plain, due in part to a lack of time for Madame Leclerc to work her magic and in part to my sensible tastes.

I really didn’t like Lady Bennett’s overdone gown and didn’t want to lie and say I admired her taste. Falling back on convention, I said, “I’m very sorry for your loss. Was this a recent event?”

She withdrew slightly, showing her contempt for an ignorant provincial. “Over two years ago. Otherwise, I’d be forced to wear black.”

“Imagine. Being forced to abandon colors for two years. That would be so dreary. And they say the colonials are backward.” Before, we’d just been mildly catty. Now I’d let my claws out a little.

Phyllida gave me a sharp look while Lady Bennett was faced away and said, “I can’t wait for this ghastly weather to end. I like sunny days, but not ones where I feel as if I’ll melt into my shoes.”

Lady Bennett turned to gaze at her. “Yes, hasn’t it been frightful.” Motioning us to sit down, she took a wing chair and continued, “Lady Phyllida, I don’t remember seeing you out in society in London in recent years. Where have you been?”

“Oh . . .” Phyllida blushed and stammered, “Abroad for a while. In the country for a while.” Then she took a breath, raised her chin to look down on Lady Bennett, and said with complete assurance, “I felt a need to be away from the bustle of London after the horror my brother inflicted on us all.”

Lady Bennett mustn’t have expected Phyllida to be so forthright, because she blushed and quickly said to me, “Are you planning on remaining in London?”

“I hope to. I was a child the last time I had a chance to explore all London has to offer. If that’s all right with Lady Phyllida.”

“But will it be cosmopolitan enough for you, having lived in the—Far East, you said?”

Either she didn’t believe me or she was testing me for something. I wondered which it was. “Yes, a very hot and humid Singapore, so I don’t find this weather so shocking. And I believe London is cosmopolitan enough for anyone.”

“Singapore? How lovely. My sister and her husband will be arriving very soon from Singapore. Perhaps you know them? The Viscount and Viscountess Chattelsfield.”

My mind froze for an instant. I hadn’t planned on this at all. “I didn’t know anyone titled. My social contacts were among the businessmen and traders of the city and their families.”

“What a pity. I thought everyone knew them.”

Into the uncomfortable silence that fell, I said, “Tell me, did you redo your entire house after your husband died? I ask because we’ve taken rented quarters while we try to decide what to do.”

She smiled as if I made very easy prey. “I’d lived here with my husband for several years before his death. I’d redecorated most of the house before his passing, so there was little left for me to do to put my imprint on all the rooms.”

“This room is very light and feminine. And the wallpaper is quite striking.” The oversized blue flowers in the wallpaper were the same color as Lady Bennett’s eyes. I’d have disliked it less in any other house, where it didn’t proclaim Compliment my mistress.

She must have missed my dislike because she gave me a genuine smile and said, “When I saw it, I just knew I had to have it.”

I’ll bet she did. Phyllida frowned at me before I could say what I was thinking, so I changed the subject. “How do you keep cool in this weather? We went to a higher elevation in the East, but that’s impossible in London.”

“Anyone who is anyone is leaving London for country house parties. Parliament has adjourned until the weather improves. The queen and the court left for the seaside at Osborne House.”

“So the government just shuts down in midsummer?”

“This frightful heat wave has been of surprisingly long duration. And while not at a higher elevation, country estates are far from London’s traffic and the heat isn’t trapped between street after street of houses.”

I gave her a vacuous smile. “I feel cooler just thinking about it. Country houses. The seaside. It all sounds wonderful.”

She gave me a pitying look. “Oh, but you have to have friends with country houses to invite you. Otherwise, every year London becomes so stuffy and dreary at the end of the season. That’s not until mid-August,” she added as if to the socially deficient.

I really didn’t like this woman.

There was one more subject I needed to cover before Phyllida and I finished our standard quarter-hour visit with Lady Bennett. I needed to mention the real reason I was there that day. “I believe you knew my husband’s cousin, Mrs. Kenneth Gattenger. Clara Gattenger.”

Lady Bennett paled. She tapped her lips with one well-manicured finger. “Mrs. Gattenger. I know we were introduced, but we were barely acquaintances. I don’t think I’ve seen her in six months.”

Clara’s maid had said this woman had called on Clara only the week before. “When Mrs. Gattenger knew I was coming to London, she mentioned she would introduce us, as you and she were friendly.”

“We had been, but since her marriage, she only seemed to have time for her husband.”

“Well, we widows don’t have that problem, do we?” I said and smiled.

“Yes. How lovely,” Lady Bennett said, but whether she meant the freedom widows have, or the arrival of more visitors, which effectively blocked my questions about Clara, was hard to tell.

As we went through curtsies and introductions, I wondered why Lady Bennett wouldn’t admit she’d visited with Clara the day of her death.

Her guests were introduced as the Dowager Duchess of Bad Ramshed and her youngest daughter, Lady Magda. Magda was a quiet blonde who stayed out of reach of her mother. The duchess heard my name as Mrs. Monthalf and asked, “What does your husband do?” as if I’d announced I carried bubonic plague.

“Nothing now. He died. He was a businessman in the Far East.”

“He was a shopkeeper?” Her tone rose as if I’d stepped into the parlor in my shift.

I smiled and said, “A little wealthier than that.”

Lady Bennett maneuvered us toward the door and quietly said in our ears, “My condolences on the loss of your cousin.”

“What has happened?” the dowager duchess demanded. She had excellent hearing and dreadful manners.

We all turned and stared at her in silence. Lady Bennett blushed and looked down. “She was murdered. Her husband is in prison for the murder.”

“Not the ship designer, Gattenger?” the dowager grumbled, her accent thickening with harsh syllables.

“Yes,” Lady Bennett said, looking more uncomfortable by the moment.

I took a step toward the older woman. What would a visiting female German aristocrat know about British engineers? “Do you have connections to the Royal Navy and the Admiralty?”

“No. I just know this wouldn’t happen in Germany. Their work is too important to allow them to be involved in tawdry scandals.”

Phyllida made a small choking sound.

I turned to Lady Bennett and said our good-byes before taking Phyllida by the arm and leading her out of the parlor.

“Why do they let people like that into the country?” Phyllida growled.

I wasn’t certain whether the ladies heard us. I certainly didn’t care.

After leaving our calling cards at a few more houses, we returned to discover the duke sitting in the most comfortable chair in our parlor. He rose when we walked in and bowed to Lady Phyllida. “I hope you ladies will attend the theater with me tonight. It is the final performance of Shakespeare for the season at the Lyceum. Everyone will be there.” He put a slight emphasis on everyone.

“I’m afraid Phyllida and I already have an escort to that play,” I answered.

“What?” Even his questions could sound like commands.

I lowered my voice as I stepped close to the duke, ensuring the servants couldn’t eavesdrop. “You wanted me to question Sir Henry. Not only will I be able to do that, I will get a chance to search his study. We’re having dinner at his house.”

“That’s not safe.”

“You think he’s involved with the theft and you want me to question him. We need to find out if the plans are in his study.”

“How are we supposed to begin our affair if you’re seen with Sir Henry?”

I grinned. “You’ll have to work harder. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Your Grace, we need to dress for dinner and the theater.”

“Georgia, be careful. One lovely, courageous woman was killed over those blueprints. We don’t want to lose another.”

My smile widened. It was nice to see Blackford discomfited. “It won’t be the first time I’ve done something like this. Just in nicer surroundings this time.”

He reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Georgia, I’m serious. This man has a dangerous reputation.”

“So do you, Your Grace.”

“Georgia.” He stared into my eyes, and I glimpsed a flash of fear.

I slid my hand around to hold his wrist. I could feel his pulse speed. “It’ll be all right, Ranleigh.”

Blackford drew in a deep breath, his face taking on the expression of his pirate-raider ancestors before a massacre, and strode out of our parlor.

“Oh, dear,” Phyllida said.

CHAPTER SEVEN

OH, dear, indeed. The dinner party turned out to be just four of us: Sir Henry, his brother Robert, Phyllida, and me. The two men shared a town house laid out like the Gattengers’, with the dining room in front on the ground floor.

The study—every gentleman had a study—would be the room behind the dining room or one floor up behind the parlor. I hoped I’d find it on the ground floor, which would make my job easier. But I had no idea how Phyllida would be able to keep both men occupied while I searched Sir Henry’s desk.

The clear soup course was good. The next, an ordinary fish, was fair. We discussed the weather, gossip about the royal family, and, on Robert Stanford’s part, the dearth of interesting people in London during this heat wave. It turned out he was leaving the next day for a holiday at a hotel in Torquay, where he claimed the fashionable were staying.

“Are you in the shipbuilding business with your brother, Mr. Stanford?” I asked.

He shuddered. “No, I’m a barrister in Gray’s Inn.”

“I hope I never have need of your services,” Phyllida said.

Sir Henry smiled weakly and said, “I suppose, Mrs. Monthalf, you had quite an experience with solicitors while sorting out your late husband’s business affairs. Especially since it was a large fortune.”

“I don’t know that I’d call it a large fortune, but Edgar made certain I’d be more than comfortable.” Phyllida and I had never considered how much money my fictitious husband left me. I didn’t think the question would come up. Discussion of money was never allowed in proper society.

“I hope you have it invested wisely,” Sir Henry said.

At that moment, the maids served the fowl course, some rather dry chicken, and conversation stopped. As the maids were leaving with the fish plates, I decided to turn the conversation away from money. “Mr. Stanford, as a barrister, have you heard of the case of Mr. Kenneth Gattenger, accused of murdering his wife? He’s innocent, of course.”

“Yes. Interesting case.”

“His wife was my husband’s cousin.”

“Oh? Who’s Gattenger’s solicitor?”

“Do you know, I’ve never thought to ask. We must remember that the next time we visit him, Phyllida.”

Phyllida gave me a faint smile.

“The newspaper reporters have already started circling the Inns of Court about the Gattenger murder. It will be a sensation. Do you know why Whitehall is holding back the prosecution?” With the scandalous gossip he’d already shared and the eagerness in his voice, Robert was leaving a bad taste in my mouth. He was not someone I’d want to see on a regular basis.

Phyllida looked like she might be ill.

Sir Henry must have seen the looks on his guests’ faces, because he said, “That’s enough, Robert.”

“I’m sorry. I let my enthusiasm for the law run away with my good manners.”

We both nodded to him, and Phyllida asked if he ever had time with his busy profession to read literature.

The mutton course, the salad course, and the iced fruit course passed without me finding a way to check out the study. As the coffee and cheese course arrived, Robert stood, wished us enjoyment of the play, and said he had a previous engagement.

We said how nice it was to meet him without displaying a trace of irony. Listening to his footsteps, I could tell he went out the front door immediately after leaving us.

After waiting a moment to make sure he didn’t return, I asked if there was somewhere where I could freshen up. Sir Henry reddened and gave me directions to the back of the house on the landing between this floor and the next.

I gestured toward Sir Henry with my eyes as I looked at Phyllida, hoping she read my meaning. Then I rose and excused myself.

Phyllida started a stream of talk aimed at diverting Sir Henry before he had time to resume his seat or I had left the room. There were no servants in sight as I hurried to the door toward the back of the ground floor.

It was still daylight out and the draperies were open when I looked inside to see I’d found the study. Now if I could search it thoroughly without anyone finding me, the evening would be a success.

I started with the drawers in the desk. Knowing the blueprints would be bulky, it wasn’t hard to eliminate possibilities quickly. Most of the books on the shelves were too thin, even hollowed out, to hold the plans. The few that were thick enough were intact. None of them were law books. Robert must have his study upstairs while Sir Henry used this room.

The only place left to check was a handsome file cabinet. Locked.

I pulled out a hairpin and began to poke around in the lock. I heard a click and slid the first drawer open. Blueprints.

Dozens of blueprints. I’d have to look at them all to make sure Gattenger’s warship plans weren’t there.

I checked the other drawers. More blueprints. I pulled out one page. I could tell it was for a ship, but I couldn’t tell which one. It was dated from three years before and numbered. Sliding the paper back into place, I checked another, and then one from a different drawer. Different pages, different dates, probably different ships.

This would be the perfect place to hide Gattenger’s stolen blueprints. The trouble was, I’d need a long time to check each page to know whether it belonged to the stolen plans, and there were hundreds of sheets.

Phyllida’s voice came loudly through the closed door. “I’m sure she’ll be back in a moment. Let’s wait in the dining room, and you can tell me the family story behind the cutlery.”

“Of course.” Sir Henry sounded both puzzled and resigned.

I quickly refolded the sheet I had opened, hoping no one heard the paper rustling, and shut and locked the drawer. I shoved my hairpin in my coiffure and listened at the door for their receding footsteps. Then I opened the door enough to peek into the hall. A maid was coming up the stairs. I hurried toward her to make it appear I had just come downstairs and then walked into the dining room. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

The maid came in the room behind me and gave me a funny look. There was no way to know if she’d tell her employer her suspicions. At least she wouldn’t have an opportunity to tell him until after the play.

On the carriage ride to the theater, Sir Henry asked, “Are you getting good advice from your bankers on where to invest your money?”

“It sounds reasonable. Why?”

“I’d hate to see you taken advantage of with your unfamiliarity with British businesses.”

“They’ve been very conservative.”

“Not always the best policy,” he said, nodding sagely.

I suspected I knew where this was headed. “Why not?”

“The only way to get a decent return on your money is by investing in new fields, new manufacturing processes. Old methods will just slowly drain away your money. And bankers prefer the tried-and-true methods of the past.”

“What would you advise?”

He smiled. “I’m not advising you. As a friend, I’m just pointing out a fact of business that you should consider.” Then he turned the conversation to Shakespearean plays he’d seen.

If he were planting a seed, hoping I’d invest in his shipyard, he did it very carefully. Sir Henry was shrewder than I’d thought.

We arrived at the Lyceum to find the usual bustle and noise of a theater crowd. The sun sat low on the horizon behind the buildings, but it was no cooler in the long shadows. It wouldn’t be fully dark, bringing the hope of a breeze, until after the performance.

Two couples who’d chosen to stop and talk in the middle of the sidewalk trapped Phyllida outside the theater, while a cluster of dandies jostled me as I attempted to enter the main doors. Sir Henry kept busy moving us forward with a polite word to the two couples and a quelling look at the dandies.

Once inside, the lobby was jammed with heated, perfumed bodies, and I couldn’t draw a breath until Sir Henry created a path through the crowd and we slipped through the door leading to the inside of the theater.

Baron von Steubfeld was already seated along the aisle with Lady Bennett. As they stood so we could get past them to our seats, the temperature dropped ten degrees.

Of course, there was no choice but for a round of introductions and pleasantries, especially since Lady Phyllida said before she sat down, “Why, Lady Bennett, I didn’t expect to see you again tonight. Your house is so lovely.”

She inclined her head. “Thank you.”

Sir Henry did the introductions while the baron glowered at us, but he did a perfunctory job of kissing Lady Phyllida’s hand and then mine.

Seen close up, even on the sloping floor of the theater, the baron was tall. He appeared to have the lean musculature of a horseman or a fencer beneath his high-collared Prussian military uniform. His eyes, a bright blue, were cold with dismissal.

He returned to his seat and pointedly addressed a comment to Lady Bennett, ignoring the rest of us.

“I beg your pardon, von Steubfeld, but we need to get to our seats.” Hearing Blackford’s rich baritone, I turned quickly to find him standing in the aisle by our row with an attractive brunette in her early to mid thirties.

The baron rose and he and the duke exchanged the stiffest of bows. When Blackford squeezed past us, he introduced us to the brunette as Lady Peters. She greeted Phyllida and me formally and then Sir Henry with greater warmth.

Wanting to push forward with the investigation, I turned to Blackford and his companion. “How nice to see you again, and to meet you, Lady Peters. Do you reside in London year-round?”

“Most of the year. I have family who have a château in France and I try to spend the winter with them. The weather is milder there.” She had pretty brown hair that her maid must have spent hours putting curls into, and soft brown eyes. She looked kind, gently bred, ordinary. Would she be the successful candidate for Duchess of Blackford?

I went for the blandest reply. “Is London weather truly so awful?”

Sir Henry tapped my arm to get my attention and said, “Lady Bennett said you lived in Singapore and didn’t know who the Viscount Chattelsfield is. Surely you know he’s a member of the executive council for the governor of the Straits Settlements.”

I gave him a smile as I made a quick decision. “I knew who he was. We weren’t important enough to socialize with people like that, and I stayed away from politics. I was never introduced to him, and so didn’t know him.”

Turning back to Lady Peters, I glanced at Blackford’s face. He looked worried.

“Lady Peters—” I began.

She gave the stage a quick glance. “Would it be forward of me to ask you and Lady Phyllida to call tomorrow? I’d so like to talk to you, and I’m afraid the play is about to start.”

She was right. The houselights were being lowered. “We’d enjoy calling on you.”

After exchanging smiles with me, she turned her attention to the stage. I gave Sir Henry, who’d been watching me, a flirty grin and then gazed at the rising curtain.

At intermission, we all rose and joined the throng in the lobby. I glanced around and made sure I didn’t know anyone in the audience who might endanger my role in our real-life drama. The men went off to battle the crowd for chilled wine while we ladies looked at each other, smiled, and hoped someone else would start the conversation.