“Oh Mrs. Adler, how dreadful,” Ofelia breathed, her eyes wide. “What on earth did you tell the servants?”
“Well, given that she woke the household when she shot at the bounder and left a bullet lodged in her bedroom wall, she had to tell them pretty nearly the truth,” Jack said.
“You shoot?” Sir Edward looked impressed.
“Yes, I do.” Lily wished they would let the subject drop. “As the captain now knows.”
“Are we getting into that again?” Jack demanded.
“You are the one who brought it up, Captain, and the one who barged in last night—”
“Mrs. Adler, you are chasing a murderer. Something could have happened!”
“Something did happen,” Lily said. “A man broke into my home, and I scared him off with a pistol, which I think constitutes taking care of myself quite handsomely.”
She and Jack glared at each other, heedless of their small audience, both of whom watched the exchange with undisguised fascination. “I say, starting to think Mother was right about you two,” Sir Edward said with cheerful nosiness.
Ofelia slapped his shoulder with her fan. “Ned, for heaven’s sake, don’t be so vulgar.” With an apologetic glance at Lily, she explained, “Lady Carroway is—”
“An incorrigible gossip. Yes, I am well aware.” Lily sighed, rubbing her temples. “Speaking of gossip, we should all return to the ballroom before the speculation grows utterly out of control. Miss Oswald and I shall go first, and you, gentlemen.” Lily fixed them with a stern look. “You will wait several minutes before following. And do come from the direction of the card room if you can manage it.”
“Think I know the way about m’own house, ma’am.” Sir Edward looked affronted.
“I’m sure you do, Sir Edward. What I am less sure of is your attention to detail.” Lily raised an eyebrow. “You should also fix your hair, unless you wish to invite more speculation as to how it got so mussed.”
“Ah, yes.” Sir Edward glanced at his reflection in the window and grinned. “Fair enough, ma’am. Ofelia was right about you. Not one to miss a trick, eh?”
“I hope not.” Lily looped her arm through Ofelia’s, ignoring the girl’s giggle. “Gentlemen.” They both bowed, Sir Edward with clearly restored good humor, Jack with a little more irony. “Will you still see me home after the ball, Captain?” Lily added, wanting to smooth things over. “I should like to talk.”
For a moment, she thought he might still be too incensed to agree. But he inclined his head and said gravely, “It will be my pleasure, Mrs. Adler, as always.”
And with that, she had to be content, at least for the time being.
* * *
As soon as the ladies had left, Sir Edward let out a sigh and dropped into a chair. “Rather like being told off by a wife and a governess, all in one go.”
Jack did not have to ask to whom he was referring. “A bit,” he agreed. “But she is a remarkable woman.”
“Could see that easily enough,” Sir Edward said. “And Ofelia’s mad on her, talks Mrs. Adler without a halt every time I see her. Think she can do it?” he added, sitting up suddenly.
“Solve a murder?” Jack leaned against the table, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “If any woman in London could do it, she could.”
“With a little help?”
Jack smiled. “With a little help. Which we all need from time to time.” Unbending a little, he added, “Miss Oswald has been of great assistance. Mrs. Adler admires her.”
“Dashed clever girl, you know. Got a better head for business than most men.” He sighed. “Meant what I said earlier, but it’s been hell, having her mixed up in all this.” He held out his hand. “Thank you for keeping her safe, Hartley. Eased my mind greatly.”
Jack gave the younger man a very assessing glance before taking the offered hand and shaking it. “Well, now you are in the thick of it, you can help me keep an eye on both of them. Full-time occupation, I assure you.”
Sir Edward laughed. “Mrs. Adler would keep any man on his toes. Think she’s counting the minutes before we return to make sure we time it well?”
Jack shook his head, unable to keep himself from smiling in the face of the other man’s good humor. “Quite possibly.”
“Well, in that case.” Sir Edward pulled a key out of his waistcoat and crossed to the tantalus. “No harm in taking our time. What will you drink, Hartley?”
Jack chuckled. “I’m going to like you, Carroway.”
Sir Edward smiled easily. “Most people do.” He pulled out two glasses. “Brandy?”
* * *
“I cannot tell you how glad I am that you finally know everything.” Ofelia seemed giddy with relief as they left the library. “Keeping our engagement a secret was exciting at first, of course, but after Augustus was killed, it was such a burden …”
Lily let her chatter, keeping her own conflicted feelings inside in order to be happy for her friend. But when they were nearly back at the ballroom, Ofelia added with breathless laughter, “And I knew you would not mind too much that I told Neddy what we were about.”
That was more than Lily could let pass. “I very much mind the situation you have put me in, Ofelia,” she said quietly.
“But …” The girl frowned. “But … Mrs. Adler, surely you don’t mean to tell anyone about our engagement!”
“I do not. But you lied to us. To Captain Hartley. To me. You kept Sir Edward a secret from us, and perhaps you had that right. But you left us knowing that you were sneaking around, knowing that you were hiding something, with everything else that was going on.”
“I promise, I did not mean to deceive you.”
“Of course you meant to, or you would have told us about Sir Edward. And now you’ve shared heaven knows how much with a man we have no reason to trust.”
Ofelia looked horrified. “But I assure you, you can trust Neddy! He thinks the whole thing a brilliant lark.”
“In the first place, I very much doubt that,” Lily said dryly. “I cannot imagine Sir Edward enjoys the idea of you chasing after a murderer. And in the second …” Her gaze became sharper. “I see no compelling reason to trust Sir Edward so completely when you clearly do not trust him yourself.”
“Not trust—!” Ofelia was stunned into momentary silence. “Mrs. Adler, whatever do you mean? Of course I trust Neddy!”
“With my secrets, perhaps. But not with your own.”
“With my own?” The girl laughed. “Mrs. Adler, how many engagements do you think I am hiding?”
Lily raised a brow. “Two.”
Ofelia grew very still. “What do you mean?”
Lily glanced around. It wouldn’t do to risk someone overhearing their conversation, so she ushered the girl through the nearest door, which opened into an empty sitting room. “Two engagements,” she repeated, once the door was closed behind them. “The one with Sir Edward being the second.”
“Mrs. Adler …”
“I imagine your engagement to Mr. Finch was not of long duration, of course. A month or two, perhaps?”
“A month.” Ofelia’s voice had grown hoarse. “How did … how did you know?”
Lily smiled a little sadly. “You weren’t always successful at hiding your feelings about him. You were most insistent that you were not close, but you’ve been far more distressed over his death than a distant connection would warrant.”
“He was my father’s godson …”
“And the two of you would have been much thrown together as a result.” Lily’s voice softened. “I imagine it ended because of a quarrel?”
Ofelia nodded. “We didn’t speak for several weeks, which was enough time for me to realize that I was not so in love as I had thought. We should never have suited. And I thought Augustus agreed, until …”
“Until he followed you to London?”
“He thought he could simply wait … You must promise to keep it a secret, Mrs. Adler.” A look of sudden horror crossed Ofelia’s
face, and she demanded, “You’ve not told the captain?”
“Of course not.” Lily shook her head. “Not that it has been easy. He was most insistent that you were hiding something about Mr. Finch, and I have had a devil of a time convincing him you weren’t. Hopefully this business with Sir Edward will satisfy him at last.”
“Thank God.” Ofelia let out a heavy breath. “If anyone but you found out, my reputation would be ruined. I would be ruined. I cannot risk anyone knowing.”
“So I gathered when it became clear that Sir Edward believes Mr. Finch was simply a distant connection.”
“You don’t understand.” The girl’s voice rose before she recalled where they were and dropped it again. “It was more than just the engagement—”
“I do understand,” Lily said gently. “It is not surprising that in the moment, in the romance of a secret engagement, you would grow … intimate.”
Ofelia’s lips quivered. “I was seventeen,” she whispered. “I thought I was in love.”
“Of course you did.” Lily nodded. “That is what happens when one is seventeen, and occasionally it is true.”
“If you know all that, how can you suggest that I tell Ned the truth about Augustus?” Ofelia demanded. “It has been two years, you know; he would never know. Only if I told him. And what man would want to marry a woman who … I couldn’t risk losing him, Mrs. Adler.” Her voice shook, and she had to blink back tears before she could add, “I love him.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that you tell him everything. It is certainly your choice if you want to keep such things a secret, and I can understand why you would.” Lily’s voice grew sharper. “But we were speaking of trust, you may recall. And if you cannot trust Sir Edward with your own secrets, then you cannot expect me to trust him with mine.”
“Neddy would never betray my confidence or yours, Mrs. Adler,” the girl said stiffly, turning toward the door as if she would storm off.
“I hope you are right,” Lily said quietly. “For my sake and yours.”
For several moments the girl said nothing, her back rigid, her hand on the doorknob. “Do you think I should tell him?”
“I think you should do what is best for you,” Lily said. “But I hope that the man you have chosen is worthy of your full confidence.”
“I couldn’t risk losing him,” Ofelia repeated, her voice quivering. For a moment it seemed like she would say something more, but she yanked open the door and hurried away.
Lily, sighing, followed her back to the ballroom.
* * *
Jack escorted Lily home that night, as he had promised, but though she had wanted to talk things out with him, he held up a hand to forestall her as soon as she began.
“Please,” he said quietly as the carriage rocked along through the Mayfair streets. “I would rather we put it behind us. You will do things your way, and I shall do my best to keep you out of danger, and from time to time we shall butt heads over it.”
“I don’t like to leave it that way,” she protested.
“And I don’t like to leave you chasing around London after a war hero who has turned to murder. But that is what you keep asking me to do. We shall both have to make the best of it.” He waited for her nod, then, with a deliberate smile, changed the subject. “What did you think of young Carroway?” They settled into a more comfortable talk, but Lily’s mind was elsewhere, and after a few minutes Jack asked quietly, “What are you thinking of, Lily?”
“Our murderer,” she said quietly. The immensity of what they were doing had suddenly struck her. “Nothing else fits, but … I went to school with his niece. I went to tea at his home once! To imagine him a murderer seems impossible.”
“Lily …” Jack paused, selecting his words carefully. “The general was a soldier, of course, and soldiers must kill. But to kill a man in battle is very different from murdering in cold blood. Do you think he could have done it?”
An uncomfortable memory rose up in Lily’s mind. It had been her last day at Miss Tattersy’s seminary, and all the boarders were being fetched by parents and servants to take them home. Lily, her trunks already packed, had escaped from Serena’s frantic preparations and gone to replace several borrowed books in the school’s library. It was not a place where Miss Tattersy encouraged her pupils to spend much time, and Lily hoped to savor a few last hours of solitude before returning home.
She was wholly unprepared for the scene she walked in on. Isobel Harper, her face red with fury and streaked with tears, was shouting at her uncle, her words incomprehensible to Lily’s stunned senses, as she shook a fistful of papers at him. Behind her, a terrified-looking maid cowered, her mistress’s wraps over one arm, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape route.
For Lily, who had spent her whole life dreading any such confrontation with her own father, that would have been awful enough. But what followed was worse. General Harper snatched the papers from his niece and ripped them violently in half. Isobel shrieked in fury, and her uncle raised his hand as if he would strike her. She didn’t flinch, and at the last minute he turned and struck the maid across the face, hard enough to knock her down. Then, turning to Isobel, he said, very calmly, “Control yourself. And fetch your bonnet before we go. All the money spent on this place will be wasted if you end up with freckles.” Isobel raised her own hand as though she would strike him herself, but lowered it abruptly, though she continued to glare at him, her face bright with rage. Both of them ignored the maid using the edge of the table to pull herself back to her feet.
No one had seen Lily. Shaking as if she were the one who had been struck, she retreated upstairs to help Serena finish packing. She had never mentioned the scene to anyone.
The whole memory came back at Jack’s question and left her trembling once again. “I never knew him well. But from what I do know, yes, I would believe him capable of murder. And for Mr. Finch’s sake, and Ofelia’s, and now my own, we must find a way to prove it.”
Even in her preoccupation, she saw Jack’s eyes narrow. “What are you planning to do?”
“To get that ledger.” A slow smile spread across Lily’s face. “I think I know exactly how to go about it.”
CHAPTER 21
“Lady Walter and Mrs. Adler to see you.”
As she and Serena were shown into Miss Harper’s sunny parlor, Lily was grateful for the rituals of London life. Despite her nervousness, it was easy to exchange greetings, to ask about one another’s health and fall into chatter on innocuous subjects, to sip tea and accept the offer of a slice of cake. It was second nature to her, and no one watching would have guessed that her mind was not wholly occupied with Serena’s discussion of the new mantua-maker on Bond Street who, it was rumored, produced the most lavishly naughty nightclothes in addition to stylish gowns.
“I saw Mrs. Crandoll emerging from there just the other day.” Serena leaned forward. “When I asked what sort of dress she had bought, it took the dear lady positively a whole minute to come up with an answer!”
Lily laughed along, but she did not relax. It had taken no effort to persuade Serena that a visit to Isobel Harper would be a pleasant way to spend an hour or so. And the viscountess could be counted on to keep the conversation rolling, to make all feel natural with the latest gossip and cozy chatter. But Lily was searching for an opportunity, and she knew she would not have a second chance to take advantage of it.
“I know I shouldn’t be speaking of such things.” Serena looked as if she didn’t mean a word, which, Lily knew, was exactly the case. “But we have all known each other for years now. And I am sure, Miss Harper, that you will wish to know where to buy your own wedding clothes … and other things, of course.”
“Lady Walter!” Miss Harper’s protest was barely more than a croak; she cleared her throat quickly before continuing. “You know perfectly well that I am not engaged.”
“Oh come now, Isobel,” Serena said. “You’ve been seen at more balls and parties this seas
on than in the last six years.”
“One grows tired of staying at home.” Miss Harper spoke defensively, flushing from her collarbone to her hairline.
“One does indeed,” Serena agreed. “Especially if one has a certain Mr. Kettering whom one wishes to meet without anyone remarking on it. Though in that case, perhaps one should not dance with him twice in a single evening.” Miss Harper’s blush deepened, and Lily began to feel sorry for her. There were few things more intimidating than Serena when she was bent on winkling out some bit of gossip.
“It is only that …” Miss Harper hesitated, her hands twisting in the skirts of her morning dress, one lip caught between her teeth. Lily understood. The three of them had never been close, but clearly the poor woman was in desperate need of a confidante. And …
“Your uncle does not know of your understanding?” Lily guessed.
Miss Harper shook her head, looking guilty and excited at the same time. “Mr. Kettering has told his family, but—” She broke off.
“Oh my dear, you need someone to talk to!” Serena stood, lowering her voice. “Tell us absolutely everything that has been weighing on you. You can rely on our discretion.”
“But perhaps not the discretion of all your servants,” Lily put in, seizing the moment. “Shall we sit in the garden? We shan’t be overheard by anyone there.”
The sudden look of gratitude on Miss Harper’s face made Lily want to squirm with guilt. But Miss Harper did need someone to confide in, and Serena, for all her gossipy ways, could be utterly discreet when the situation called for it. So Lily went along as their hostess led the way toward the small patch of garden behind the house.
Just as they came to the door, Lily hung back and cleared her throat apologetically. “I do beg your pardon, Miss Harper, but perhaps you could point me in the direction of a washroom?” She touched her hair delicately. “I think I have a few pins loose.”
“Of course, Mrs. Adler.” Isobel Harper seemed to hesitate for a moment, then gestured down the hall they had just walked along. “Under the stairs, next to my uncle’s study. He had it put in last year so he would not be forever tromping up and down to his dressing room. I am sure he’ll not mind you using it.”
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