“You think he has more than one such person at his disposal?” I asked, my suspicions growing again.

“Why wouldn’t he?” she asked, waving her hands dismissively. “Particularly if he’s an actor. He’d have any number of unsavory acquaintances at his disposal.”

“Surely you don’t think ill of stage people?” Ivy asked.

“Not at all,” Lady Glover said. “But there are hangers-on to be considered. People in unfortunate circumstances who seek to advance themselves on the stage, when in fact they have no talent, no beauty, and no chance at success.”

“But surely even a person like that wouldn’t be so scruffy as the man you followed?” I asked.

“He may have been in costume, Lady Emily,” she said. “You must consider every possibility.”

*   *   *

“She’s not at all what I expected,” Ivy said as I walked her home. “Which is not to say she’s the sort of woman with whom we should be cavorting. But I do like her—much more than I ought.”

“I had no idea you were so interested in the stage,” I said, checking my reticule to make sure the note was still in it. I’d asked Lady Glover for it so I might show it to Colin. She acquiesced to my request, but only on the condition that he return it to her himself.

“I’ve always quite fancied it,” Ivy said. “I would love to play Juliet.”

“Would you?” I asked. “How is it that you’ve never shared this with me before?”

“I think I was afraid to admit it out loud.”

“Perhaps we should stage an entertainment.”

“Don’t even think of it,” she said. “Robert would be horrified.”

“No, he wouldn’t, not if we did it at home and only for our friends. It would be perfectly acceptable.”

“But what if I really liked it, Emily? And wanted to do it again?”

“Afraid of being consumed by the urge to act, are you?”

“Yes,” she said, almost in a whisper, looking around furiously as if she were afraid someone might have heard.

“I shan’t harass you about it now, but I think we should consider it for Christmas.”

“I’m not listening,” she said. “I noticed there was yellow sealing wax on Lady Glover’s note.”

“Well done for changing the subject,” I said. “You’re right.”

“It’s identical to that which Winifred has,” she said. “I wonder if in the end, Lady Glover will prove the more acceptable acquaintance?”

“That, Ivy, would be an irony I’d love to see.”


2 July 1893

Belgrave Square, London


I’m desperately excited for the ball at Devonshire House tonight. We all need a break from the hideous tension—the Lloyds, the latest to be marked with paint, have refused to show themselves in public since their steps were splashed red and are showing signs of distress. One of their parlor maids has left without giving notice, saying that she couldn’t bear to be in the house. Apparently her mistress is on edge to the point of madness. No one has the slightest clue what the family is so desperate to keep hidden, but speculating about it are topics number one through ten at every social gathering these days.

I wonder how I would react if I received a warning in crimson? Would I become a recluse? Or would I have the courage to admit what I’ve done? I’m already excessively fond of Lady Glover, despite the many misgivings I have regarding her character, and hope I would use her as a model. She wouldn’t apologize for her sins. She’d be proud of them.

I don’t think I have it in me to be like her, wish though I might for the strength.

Tonight I’m going to do my best to avoid all unpleasant thoughts. A certain young lady will be at the ball tonight, and she’s already promised Mr. Barnes her first dance. I’m hoping it will be the first of many. It would be an excellent match for them both.

18

Devonshire House was buzzing with energy. The duchess always had the finest musicians in London, and I’d danced and danced, particularly enjoying the waltzes I shared with Colin, his eyes locked on mine as he spun me around the floor. I’d decided to wear my favorite gown—a frothy creation of the palest blue silk damask. Garlands of pearls and crystals hung from the skirt and the bodice in elegant cascades, and flounces of filmy lace fell from my tightly laced waist into a modest train. Meg had spent nearly an hour on my hair, weaving pearls into the curls she’d formed into a coil on the top of my head. I’d refused to wear the sapphires she suggested, choosing instead a dainty diamond necklace set in platinum, fashioned in an intricate pattern that looked more like flowery lace than jewelry.

I turned the matching wide antique cuff bracelet on my wrist and looked around the crowded room, smiling when I saw Mr. Barnes dancing with the daughter of a minor noble whose family had run through its fortune. As the youngest of six girls, all hope had been abandoned that she might marry. Her dowry was nothing, and rumors had been swirling since Christmas that her mother was searching for an elderly lady in need of a companion. She couldn’t stay in her parents’ house forever. She was smiling at Mr. Barnes, who also seemed to be enjoying himself. Perhaps this would come to a happy end.

Colin, tired of dancing in the heat, had disappeared with Jeremy to play billiards. The thought of the two of them becoming friends was somewhat alarming. I was about to set off in search of them both when Mrs. Dalton appeared from out of nowhere and grabbed me by the arm.

“Please, Lady Emily, please come with me at once.”

Seeing the desperate pain in her eyes, I did what she requested with no delay, and sent a footman to fetch Colin before following her to her waiting carriage.

“It’s my husband,” she said, as soon as the door was closed behind us. “He went off to try to find Cordelia this morning and still hasn’t returned.”

“Have you any idea where he planned to go?” I asked.

She shook her head. “None. He wouldn’t tell me anything. But he did assure me he was going to keep Mr. Hargreaves abreast of the situation.”

Colin joined us, his face full of worry as he listened to Mrs. Dalton’s story. “I’m afraid I’ve heard nothing from him. Not at home, anyway. Tell your driver to take us to the Reform Club at once. We had an agreement. If he needed to contact me confidentially, he was to do so through my club, knowing it would be unlikely someone watching him would suspect anything.”

He poked his head out the window and called to the driver. “Quickly, man. You’ve never driven for so urgent a cause.”

*   *   *

We reached Pall Mall in record time, the Daltons’ driver proving himself an excellent man to have on hand in an emergency. He dodged omnibuses, hansom cabs, and carts with a skill that took my breath away, partly because I was impressed by him, and partly because I was terrified out of my mind that we would crash. When we reached the club, Colin leapt from the carriage and darted inside. He returned in fewer than five minutes, the grave expression on his face having carved itself deeper into his handsome features.

“To Park Lane,” he said to the driver, then closed the door with a loud thud and produced for us a letter. “He’s gone to the warehouse where Dillman died. Said he’d received another communication from the wretch who took Cordelia and planned to meet him at noon. The club was supposed to forward any messages from him to me at home, but something went awry.”

“What time did he leave the house?” I asked.

“It was much earlier than noon,” Mrs. Dalton said. “Nine-thirty at the latest, I’d say.”

“I want the two of you to return to our house and stay there,” Colin said. “I will do everything I can to locate your husband, Mrs. Dalton.”

“Thank you.” She was clasping her hands together, gripping them so hard her knuckles were all white.

“Is there anything I can do in the meantime?” I asked.

“Take care of her,” he said. “And make sure Davis has someone stationed at every door into the house.”

“Of course,” I said.

“Keep him with you. In the room,” Colin said. “I don’t want her alone, even for a minute.”

The carriage stopped to let us out, then flew away again as soon as we’d cleared its step. Davis opened the door and took our wraps. I relayed to him Colin’s request, and he moved at once with master efficiency. Taking his orders as seriously as always, he brought us to the library and rang the bell. A footman appeared moments later, confused when he found it was the butler, not me, summoning him.

“A man on every entrance to the house,” Davis said, his voice low and measured. “And one on the door to whatever room Lady Emily is in. You know who to send?”

“Yes, sir, of course.” The man bowed to me and left the room.

“You were ready for this, weren’t you, Davis?” I asked.

“Yes, madam. Mr. Hargreaves took me aside before you were married and explained to me the nature of some of those in his employ. Most useful chaps, I’d say.”

“I’m glad to have them,” I said, resisting the urge to add that I wished I, too, had known about them before my marriage. “I’ll need you to stay in the room with us.”

“It will be my pleasure, madam,” he said. “Do you and Mrs. Dalton require anything?”

“Port,” I said, then changed my mind. “No. Tea. Strong tea.” I wanted my senses to be as strong and focused as possible. Davis cracked open the door and murmured something to the man who was already stationed outside. Forty-two minutes later (I had been watching the clock like a prisoner waiting for execution) I heard a carriage clatter and then stop in front of the house. I rose to my feet at once. Davis motioned for me to stay where I was. I could see in his eyes he was horrified at having to direct me, but disobeying an order from my husband would have horrified him even more. In another moment, I heard Colin’s voice in the corridor, and I stepped towards the door. Davis stopped me.