“It didn’t seem to bother you,” Lily pointed out, taking his hand as she mounted the carriage step.
For a moment she thought his fingers would linger on hers, but he stepped back so abruptly that Lily was sure she was imagining things. “I have the advantage of being authorized to make an arrest. So you did need my help in the end, didn’t you?” Mr. Page asked, his expression suddenly unreadable as Anna mounted the steps. When the maid was settled, he bowed politely. “Good day, Mrs. Adler.”
If Jack was still upset with her, Lily was relieved to discover Serena was not. The viscountess, as she had promised, had written as soon as she was settled in Surrey. Her letter, once she was through describing the very shocking marriage of a neighbor’s only daughter and her own delight at Reggie Harper’s disgrace, reflected the thoughtful mind that was so often hidden beneath her frivolous facade.
I cannot pretend to be easy with what you have done—both for the danger in which you placed yourself and for the manner in which you went about it. To be frank, knowing that my life & my family were under such scrutiny—I do not imagine that we were spared your examination, given the circumstances surrounding the unfortunate man’s death—is repellent to me. I understand that your motives were honourable, and I cannot argue with your wish to see justice prevail, nor your success in doing so (Isobel Harper a murderess! never have I been more shocked & appalled)—tho I know myself well enough to say I would feel differently had any whisper of scandal touched my family as a result.
Still, I cannot help but reflect on what you said to me in our final interview. I maintain that if a privilege is available which may protect my family—in which body I include, of course, my husband & by extension his reputation & career—it is both logical and reasonable that I shall make use of it. Protecting what I love is not a crime. And yet, what you said was also true—it is not always right that we do, simply because we can. (Any woman, faced as we so often are with the power of men, who may do much at our expense, whether it is right or not, must admit the truth of your belief.) You leave me (as you always do when we quarrel, my dear friend) in a state of agitated mind and confused conscience—& I hope, in this case at least, that you will ask for no more concession on my part. If I am leaving you alone to wrestle with the moral good of the world, it is at least a task to which you are eminently more suited than I, and I have no doubt that you will succeed in making this world the better for your presence and you demands—howsoever they may inconvenience me!
With best love, &c., and always your affect. friend,
S.W.
By the bye, have you bewitched my footman? L.W. writes that he has overheard Jeremy talking about “Anna’s Mrs. Adler” no less than five times last week. I hope you are not planning to steal him from me. I should never find another young man with such splendid calves …
True spring finally came to London, and Lily spent as much time as she could out of doors. She had just returned from a walk in Hyde Park with Margaret Harlowe—who insisted on knowing the truth behind the rumors—when Carstairs, meeting her in the front hall, cleared his throat and announced that Miss Oswald was waiting to see her, along with “a most distinguished visitor.”
“That will be a nice distraction. Who is it?” Lily asked as she laid off her hat and gloves.
Her eyes widened in surprise as she read the card Carstairs held out to her. Sir Edward Carroway, the crisp white pasteboard declared in elegant engraving.
“I’ve taken the liberty of showing them into the parlor,” the butler added.
A suspicion bloomed in Lily’s mind. If Ofelia and Sir Edward were publicly paying visits together, that could mean only one of two things about their secret betrothal. Sweeping into the parlor, she found them waiting for her by the fireplace, heads close together and wide smiles on their faces. “And what are the two of you whispering about so secretly?”
They started apart, looking momentarily guilty, before breaking once more into matching smiles. “Mrs. Adler!” Ofelia’s dark curls bounced around her face as she laughed a little nervously. “Ten to one you have already guessed what we came to tell you. The announcement will appear in the Times tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you in person.” She held out an envelope.
It was a formal invitation, Lily discovered when she had opened it, to the wedding of Miss Ofelia Oswald and Sir Edward Carroway, to be held on the fifth of June.
Lily laughed in relief. “Thank heavens. It was either this or you had come to tell me Sir Edward persuaded you into a Scottish elopement, and you were already married.”
“Thought about it.” Sir Edward grinned. “Too scandalous, though.”
Ofelia laughed again. “Well, this will perhaps be equally scandalous, considering who you are marrying.”
“But what about your father?” Lily asked. “You are only nineteen, after all. Surely he needs to approve the match before you begin planning a wedding. Besides which, even someone so in love as your Ned would never marry without the marriage settlements being signed, would you, Sir Edward?”
“Oh, Papa’s man of business has taken care of all of that,” Ofelia said carelessly. “I wrote my father as soon as Ned offered for me, and I had a response at the beginning of the week, giving his permission and instructing Mr. Clancy how to draw up the settlements. As soon as that was taken care of, Ned went to Lady Carroway and put the notice in the Times.”
“Your father gave his permission by post?” Lily shook her head disbelievingly. “Without having met the young man? And with no word from your aunt?”
Ofelia smiled. “Do not look so shocked, Mrs. Adler. Papa always trusts my judgment. It is one of the benefits of being very nearly his business partner for the last four years.”
Lily thought of her own cold, distant father a little sadly. “Then you are very fortunate, in both your parent and your choice of husband. I wish you joy, Ofelia, and you Sir Edward, with all my heart.”
“Should call me Ned, you know.” The young baronet had not stopped smiling through the entire conversation. “Caught a murderer with my wife, after all. Makes you as good as a sister. Or a cousin.” He frowned in thought. “Second cousin, perhaps?”
“What he means to say,” Ofelia put in with loving exasperation, “is thank you. From both of us.”
“And I am glad to know that you are doing things properly at last,” Lily added. “No more of this sneaking around and hiding.” Her voice was teasing, but she caught Ofelia’s eye as she spoke, and the girl smiled, understanding.
“I very nearly asked Neddy to get us a special license so we could marry, just the two of us. But I want a big wedding.” Ofelia smiled slyly. “If the Carroways want my money, then Sir Edward must wed me publicly, with five hundred people in attendance, a cake at the wedding breakfast, and my aunt Haverweight a guest of honor just to spite her.”
Ned gazed back at her adoringly. “My mother wants your money,” he said, voice gruff as he pulled her into his arms. “All I want is you.”
Averting her eyes—they seemed to have forgotten for the moment that they were not in their own home, but some allowances had to be made—Lily expected to feel the familiar tightness in her chest as she thought of Freddy. But to her surprise, it had eased.
For a moment she was angry with herself. Shouldn’t she miss him still? Shouldn’t she miss him always?
But she did. It was still there, but quieter, a sad memory instead of a broken heart. Her glance slid to her friends, then back out the window. She had begun to create a life for herself here in London, a life that was all her own. A life that mattered. Freddy would have admired her for that, she knew. He would have been happy for her.
The young couple was recalled to their surroundings—and Lily was saved having to remind them that she was still in the room—by Carstairs’ well-timed appearance, a calling card in his hand. “Captain Hartley wishes to see you, Mrs. Adler.”
“Oh dear.” The words escaped before Lily could stop herself.
“Have yo
u spoken to him since …?” Ofelia trailed off as Lily shook her head. “Oh dear, indeed.” Collecting her wraps briskly, she herded Sir Edward efficiently toward the door. “Come along, Ned. We do not want to make things worse.”
Lily scowled at her friend. “Coward.”
“Practical,” Ofelia countered, but she hesitated on the threshold. “You go on, Ned. I am sure the captain will be happy to hear our news, and I need a moment alone with Mrs. Adler.”
The young baronet looked at them curiously, but to his credit, he merely bowed. “Shall wait in the hall.”
“What is it?” Lily frowned in concern.
“I thought about what you said,” Ofelia said quietly. “About trusting Neddy. And …” She let her breath out in a rush. “I told him.”
Lily was shocked. “About Augustus?”
The girl nodded. “Yes. I told him before we announced our engagement to his family so he could cry off if he wanted.” She took a deep breath. “I remembered what you said. And I did not want to be married to someone who needed me to pretend to be someone I am not.”
“And here you are.”
Ofelia’s smile was like a sunrise. “Here I am. I knew that Neddy loved me, but this is …”
“To be fully known and fully loved is a wonderful thing,” Lily said quietly. “I am glad you have that chance.”
Impulsively, Ofelia threw her arms around her friend. “I would not have, had it not been for you, Mrs. Adler. Thank you. For everything.”
“Well,” said Lily wryly. “Perhaps not for involving you in the investigation of a murder.”
“Even for that. Though I think Ned would rather I not make a habit of it.” Ofelia’s expression grew curious. “May I ask you one question?”
“By all means.”
“I thought about it, and you had every right to distrust Ned. I had told him everything, after all. And you did not know him at all, and he had been at the Walters’ that night … How did you know he was not involved? That he had not …” Ofelia shuddered. “Oh, say, found out about Augustus somehow and shot him in a jealous rage?”
“I suppose he could have,” Lily said. “But as you said, you had told him everything. Given that, he would have had no reason to harm the general, who was his perfect scapegoat.”
“True.” Ofelia smiled. “And he and the captain certainly timed their arrival well that last night.” Her expression grew sober, and she glanced at the door. “Speaking of …”
“Speaking of,” Lily agreed. “I suppose I have to deal with him eventually.”
“I wish you luck with that.” Ofelia shook her head. “Whatever happens, you’ve a right to be proud of yourself. Don’t forget that.”
“I shan’t,” Lily murmured as Ofelia took her leave, but she was already focused on the coming confrontation. By the time Carstairs showed Jack into the parlor, she was perfectly composed—at least on the outside.
“Captain Hartley, madam.” The butler bowed. “I’ll take your boy to the kitchen, sir.”
Lily and Jack eyed each other as the butler discreetly withdrew.
“Your boy?” Lily asked, stalling.
Jack nodded stiffly. “Jem needed a new job, since his last employer got himself shot.”
“That was good of you.” She meant it—the gesture was exactly the sort of kindness she would have expected of Jack.
“Least I could do.”
There was a long, awkward lull. Lily lifted her chin. Jack cleared his throat. Neither wanted to break the silence. But Lily decided, with an inward sigh, that there were some duties a hostess could not escape. And it was probably better to get it over with.
“You are angry with me.”
For a moment, Jack looked as though he would explode, but his voice remained quiet. “You are damn right, I am angry.”
“I hope you will tell me why.”
“Why!” This time he didn’t bother keeping his voice down. “Why the devil do you think? You asked that slip of a girl to help you, but not me. You sent me off on a wild-goose chase, knowing full well it meant leaving you in danger!”
“I sent you off on a wild-goose chase so I could catch a murderer.” Lily took a shaky breath, trying to gather herself into some semblance of calm. She did owe him an explanation. “It had to be Ofelia staying behind, not you. I knew Miss Harper would not show herself unless she saw you—Jem also, but especially you—tearing off after someone who, as far as she knew, we thought was the one trying to harm me.”
“You could have told me.” His voice was tight with anger. “I’d have circled back without her seeing and been there to protect you. You should have told me!”
“You’d not have gone if I had, and then I would not have been able to catch her!”
“I know!”
The outburst surprised both of them into silence. For a moment they stared at each other, each breathing heavily, before Lily asked, “You what?”
“I said, I know.” Jack raked a hand through his hair. “You were right then, and you are right now. That was what I wanted to tell you.”
“It was?” Lily had amassed a mental list of counterarguments for whatever he might throw at her. But his admission caught her completely off guard.
“I had planned to come here and tell you that I understood and you were right.” Jack laughed shortly. “But apparently I was still more angry than I realized. So there you are, Lily. I do not like it, but you were right. I’d not have gone. And do you know why?”
“Because you think you owe it to Freddy to look out for me.”
“No. Because I owe it to you.”
“What?” The conversation was not going at all how she had expected.
“You may be a brilliant woman, Mrs. Adler, but you are not invulnerable. So while you are bashing about, being more clever than everyone else, you need someone—you need a friend—to keep an eye out. After all, what would have happened if I’d not turned up with Mr. Page? Could you have shot Miss Harper?”
“No,” Lily admitted. “And there is a very good chance Ofelia would have, however I might have tried to prevent it.”
“And you would have had another murder on your hands, only this time you would have been trying to take the blame for it to save your friend.”
“Captain—”
“Are we friends, Lily?”
To her annoyance, she blushed. “I have thought that we are.”
“Then let us agree to act as friends do. I will listen when you tell me what you need and give you my help when you ask for it. And in return, you will allow me to be at least a little protective, when I think you may need it.”
“And when else will I need it, Jack?”
“Oh, from time to time.” He looked pleased as he pulled a parcel from his pocket and held it out to her. “After all, if I know you, you have already decided that you want to do it.”
“Do what?” Lily took the package, frowning in confusion. “What is this?”
“A peace offering, of sorts. Open it.”
Lily unwrapped the parcel to find a stack of crisp, white cards. She was about to protest that she already had her own when she read the engraving. Her lips parted in surprise. “Jack …”
“What do you think, Lily?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I had thought … but it really … that is … do you think I can?” The note in her voice could almost have been called shyness.
“Of course I think so,” he said. “You will take London by storm, I’ve no doubt.”
Lily laughed a little breathlessly. “I rather hope not.” She tapped the top card. “I would prefer to be more discreet. I could not advertise, of course, but the secret would get around. They always do, in London.”
“You like them, then.” It was not really a question, but he still looked uncertain.
“I love them. Shall I be called an adventuress, do you think?”
“Would that be so terrible?”
Lily considered the idea. “Perhaps not. Curiosity
alone would certainly secure me any number of invitations in the next season.”
“Freddy would be proud of you.”
“Yes,” Lily agreed, turning the cards over in her hand. “I rather think he would be.” She looked up at her friend and smiled, a broad, genuine smile so different from her usual guarded expression that it completely transformed her face. “But more importantly, Jack, I will be proud of me. And I have begun to suspect that matters even more.”
She looked down at the cards in her hand, a neat, crisp stack of white pasteboard, and she could not help smiling in satisfaction as she read them once more.
A Lady of Quality
Enquire by Letter
General Post Office, Old Cavendish-street, London
Discreet Inquiries, Confidential Investigations
& Mysteries Solved
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Writing historical fiction is a tricky combination of searching out the facts and creating the world that serves the story you’re telling, no matter what the historical record says. I’ve done my best to balance both sides of that equation. Critical readers, however, may appreciate knowing a few places where I have and have not tweaked the details.
The Bow Street Runners were a real police force in Georgian England and one of the first professional police forces of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. They were founded in 1749 by Henry Fielding, a London magistrate, and attached to the magistrate’s office at Nos. 3 and 4, Bow Street. Before this, law enforcement was primarily in the hands of individuals, including local magistrates, who were usually wealthy or prominent local citizens. Anyone who had been the victim of a crime could make an arrest, which would then be handed over to a constable or night watchman. Members of the upper class were likely to handle “justice” on their own, accusing or convicting members of the lower classes without proof and protecting members of their family who had committed crimes in order to avoid scandal. It was also possible for anyone with money to hire private thief-takers to seek out criminals. Thief-takers were often criminals themselves, and whose interests they served usually depended on who paid them the most.
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