And then, everything had changed. A messenger had arrived at breakneck speed, barely able to breathe from the exertion. He had known before reading the missive that his plans for the evening were changed. Sadly, he would have to wait to exact his punishment on another Blackmoor, but the messenger had brought news of an unacceptable turn of events—one that must be rectified with all deliberate speed. He could not contain the hint of excitement that he felt in his new task—even though it increased a hundredfold his risk of being discovered. No matter. Here was his chance to prove his allegiance.
As always, he threw the note into the fire, watching the edges of the paper char and curl in the heat. He watched the lines of ink turn from black to brown and eventually become consumed by the flames. Long after the paper disintegrated, he remembered the message.
There was a girl in the orangery.
Find her.
He was going to enjoy this.
The next morning, Alex awoke to bright sunlight and the sound of fervent whispering. For a few seconds, she lingered in that moment between sleeping and waking when everything seems hazy and comfortable—until the memory of the previous evening’s events came crashing down on her and she had an intense desire to throw the covers over her head and never leave her bed.
Instead, she rolled over and spied the source of the whispering. Vivi and Ella were sitting cross-legged on the chaise, facing each other, the tea tray next to them laden with a steaming pot, pastries, and jams. Vivi nibbled on a scone, nodding as Ella waved her hands in the air wildly to emphasize her hushed point.
“What are you two up to?” Alex said sleepily, sitting up.
They both turned to her with broad smiles. “Oh, excellent! You are awake!” Ella exclaimed.
“How are you feeling?” Vivi asked, pouring a cup of tea for her friend.
Alex stretched broadly, reaching out to accept the tea and biscuit Vivi brought to her. “What are you two plotting?”
“To be fair,” Vivi said with a pointed look at Ella, “only one of us is plotting.”
“Mmm. I see that. And what mischief have you devised for us, Lady Eleanor?”
“Not mischief so much as detective work,” replied Ella.
“Ah. Of course.”
“My theory is this: If we cannot prove Lucian’s role in the plot to kill the earl, we can at least uncover the information that led to his death. Perhaps that in turn will lead us to the entire plot against the Crown! At the very least, it will prove to Blackmoor that he was wrong not to believe you.”
“There’s only one problem with that,” Alex said.
“Only one?” Vivi interjected, earning a black look from Ella.
“Well, only one big one. If the War Office, Bow Street, and Blackmoor himself have not been able to find this information, why on earth would we be able to?”
“Ah…the voice of reason awakes,” Vivi said with a smile.
“I’ll tell you why. Because we have”—Ella ticked off the qualities on her fingers as she spoke them—“cleverness, a fresh eye for the problem, curiosity, superior instinct—as proven by my hunch that Montgrave was involved from the beginning—and—” She paused dramatically. “—the most important thing of all.”
“Which is?” Alex asked.
“Desire to prove that we can,” she added, with a measure of fantasy in her voice. “And think of the coup when they realize that three young women did something that a battalion of men could not.”
At that moment, a knock came at the door and the duchess entered with all the poise befitting her position. She was wearing a day dress of rich purple satin and looked as though she had been up and fresh for hours, despite the fact that she’d hosted one of the greatest balls in London history the evening before. Stopping a few paces into the room, she looked suspiciously from one girl to the next, leveling each with a cool, blue gaze before finally speaking to her daughter. “Alexandra, I trust you are feeling better?”
“Yes, Mother. Thank you.”
“What was it that befell you last evening?”
“I—uh—” For the life of her, Alex couldn’t remember what Vivi and Freddie’s excuse was. “I had a turned ankle after the dance with Freddie, and Vivi and Ella were nice enough to escort me here and keep me company.”
A single brow of her mother’s rose as Vivi coughed into her hand. “By that thoroughly unsubtle cough, I rather imagine that Vivian is attempting to tell you that it was not your ankle that bothered you last evening, but a touch of the ague.” Alex blushed under her mother’s scrutiny. “Mothers always find out, Alexandra.”
“I didn’t—”
The duchess silenced her with a single raised hand. “I would prefer not to hear whatever excuse you have devised to explain your behavior last evening. Instead, I am here to tell you that, although you may have escaped the ball, you cannot escape me. As punishment for missing my ball, I am requiring your attendance at a country house party.”
Despite her relief that her mother seemed to think they had schemed only to escape the ball last night and not for any more serious reason, Alex groaned, “Mother! You cannot!”
“On the contrary, daughter, I can. More so, I shall. You and your brothers are hereby required to be in attendance. They, I’m sure, will have a bone to pick with you when they hear.” She turned to Vivi and Ella, adding, “I’ve invited both of your parents—so I expect you will be there as well.”
Her statement elicited a wan smile from Ella and a slightly brighter one from Vivi. Alex piped in, “Well, at least you two will be forced to be there as well. That might help a bit.” Turning back to her mother, she said grumpily, “Who else has been invited?”
“I have dispatched invitations to a number of influentials—including Blackmoor and Stanhope, the Salisburys, Lady Twizzleton, the Warings—I know your feelings on the young lord, but he is indeed a marquess—and a number of additional young, eligible men. The season is almost half over; it’s time you girls turn your thoughts to finding a proper match.”
She was so wrapped up in making her point, the duchess failed to notice the slight catch in Alex’s breath when she referenced Gavin. He wouldn’t attend, would he? Or maybe he would, simply to ignore her. She didn’t know what was worse. Perhaps she could convince her mother to postpone this silly party? Alex opened her mouth to say something, when Ella beat her to the task with a bright smile and an “Oh, Your Grace! What a wonderful group of people! I, for one, am quite excited to attend. Aren’t you, Vivi?”
Vivi gave Ella a strange look and answered warily, “Indeed.”
Pleasantly surprised, the duchess smiled at Ella. “Thank you, Eleanor, I share your excitement and shall look forward to having you with us.” Turning back to Alex, she continued, “You would do well to take a leaf from your friend’s book, Alexandra. I shall expect to see you in a better humor when we leave tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning!” Alex cried. “But that’s impossible!” Her stomach dropped as she was flooded with reasons to dread the house party. Between Blackmoor’s clear frustration with her, which could easily lead him to decline the invitation and stay in town, leaving Lucian and Montgrave with a much easier time finding and dispatching the young earl the way they’d done to his father, and the real possibility that he might join them in the country and plague her with his obvious dislike, her heart was racing and she was beginning to feel panicked.
“Well, I’m on rather an impressive streak of hosting excellent parties,” Her Grace explained, “a fact you would be aware of if you had bothered to attend last evening’s festivities. I see no reason to wait. The guests will join us on Saturday. I shall need your help to prepare the manor.” Turning to the girls, she suggested, “Why don’t you both join us? I’m happy to extend the request to your parents if you’d like. You would be welcome company for both Alexandra and myself.”
Ella and Vivi nodded assent as Alex sighed heavily, drawing a smile from her mother. “There’s no reason to be so dramatic, Alexandra. You like the country. Remember?”
“I know,” she replied with reservation, “I just hate the season.”
“Well, that’s all the more reason to get yourself married—and avoid having to have another,” her mother said with a broad grin that reminded Alex of her brothers on their most infuriating of days. She returned the smile with a black look as her mother kissed her on the forehead and turned on her heel to leave the room, saying, “Things will look better once you’ve dressed, my love. Girls, there’s a beautiful breakfast spread in the dining room—Cook really has outdone herself. May I suggest you join us?”
And, with that, she departed.
As the door closed behind her mother, Alex worried her lip, wishing that she’d never escaped to the orangery the night before and swearing silently that she would never eavesdrop on another conversation again. Now she’d made a mess of everything. She had no idea to whom Lucian had been talking and no proof to share with anyone that she’d heard what she’d heard. On top of that, Blackmoor had all but pushed her out of his study last night. This was horrible.
“This is excellent!” Ella burst out after the door to the bedchamber closed behind the duchess.
Vivi and Alex turned shocked gazes on their friend. Vivi found her voice first. “I beg your pardon? This sounds the very opposite of excellent.”
“You’re not thinking about it in the right way! A house party in Essex will give us a chance to search for clues and information in Essex, where the crime was committed! If we don’t return from the country with the whole mystery solved, I shall be quite surprised!”
“Ella, at the rate we’re going, if we return from the country with all of our loved ones intact, I shall be quite surprised,” Alex said, her words laced with frustration as she threw back her coverlet and got out of bed, ringing for Eliza to help her dress. “That’s it. I’m going to tell my father everything. We can’t do this alone.”
“But, Alex!” Ella exclaimed.
“No, Ella. This is not a game. A man died. We’re not in any position to solve this mystery ourselves. Blackmoor’s life is at stake. And ours as well if we don’t tell what we know.”
Vivi nodded in agreement. “I think Alex is right, Ella. We cannot traipse off to Essex to save the day—we wouldn’t even know how to begin to do that.”
Ella pouted briefly until she recognized the truth behind her friends’ words. Although she did allow herself a heavy sigh and a disappointed “Fine.”
The rich, savory aromas of a traditional English breakfast were detectable even as they descended the massive central staircase of Worthington House. Alex’s mouth was watering before the girls joined the Staffords in the dining room for breakfast.
The entire family was present for the meal, with the exception of the duke, who had clearly already been and gone; the seat always reserved for him at the head of the long mahogany table was empty save for an already-read newspaper. Alex tempered her disappointment—she had been hoping to catch her father before he left for the business of the day—and focused on the rest of the room. The duchess was seated in her traditional position at the foot of the table, listening to the chatter of Alex’s brothers, who were dispersed amongst the eight places that had been prepared along either side of the long table. As was to be expected, the boys had filled their plates with mountains of food and were eating with gusto while they talked.
Noticing the entrance of the girls, all three stood to greet Ella and Vivi, as was expected of them as gentlemen, and the two, in turn, dropped quick curtsies in response. As the boys returned to their food, the girls made their way to the sideboard, where Cook had created a feast. There were eggs, English bacon and sausages, sautéed mushrooms, freshly baked bread and churned butter from Stafford Manor, and a dozen other choices in all manners sweet and savory. Alex’s stomach rumbled and she smiled wryly to herself, thinking, Anxious or no, it seems my appetite is very much intact.
As she filled her plate, she listened to the conversation around her. “Mother, you cannot be serious. Four days in the country in a house teeming with as-yet-unspoken-for women and their cloying mothers?” Nick said. “Are you attempting to estrange your sons?”
“I cannot do it,” Will said flatly. “Last night was enough—if I was introduced once as the ‘Next Duke of Worthington,’ I was introduced that way a thousand times. It’s horrid. Those women want nothing more of me than my title…which I don’t even hold as yet!”
“Nonsense,” said Her Grace. “You are an attractive, charming, entertaining young man. Your title has little to do with your eligibility. They would be after you even if you were a farmer, or a butcher, or any other sort of untitled person.” There was a moment of silence during which the young Staffords looked at each other in shock before bursting into laughter. “It’s true!” defended the duchess, indignantly.
“Mother, you cannot honestly believe that,” Kit said. “Those mamas want money and land for their little angels. Ask yourself how you would feel if Alex came home wanting to marry a butcher. How would the Earl and Countess of Marlborough feel about that for Ella? Or the Marquess of Langford for Vivi?”
All three girls looked up from their plates, surprised to have been dragged into the discussion, and the duchess was saved from speaking by Alex, who had made her way to a seat next to Will. “Oh, no, don’t bring our prospects for marriage into this. We have nothing to do with it.”