A Marquess, A Miss And A Mystery. ANNIE BURROWS
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‘He had been to a gaming hell, you mean,’ said Horatia. Which was, possibly, true. But he hadn’t been killed during the course of a robbery. She just knew it. ‘And, yes, he was in one of the poorer parts of London. But it wasn’t—’ she stopped short of saying that it had been no accident. Herbert had been so insistent that nobody knew about her involvement in his work. That it might put her in danger. So...if she told Lady Elizabeth, might it put her in danger, too? ‘That doesn’t mean he deserved to die,’ she finished, lamely, ‘does it?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well, then,’ she continued, focusing on one of her views which was perfectly safe to air, ‘don’t you think that somebody should be trying to find out who killed him? But nobody is! They came and stood in my aunt’s sitting room and droned on about the deplorable dangers of the streets of London at night and said there was nothing anyone could do, that if gentlemen frequented such areas these things happened, that—’ She broke off, as the resentment at the way those men had spoken to her, as though she was an idiot, swelled up all over again.
‘And you thought that Lord Devizes might be able to...what, exactly? It isn’t as if a man like him,’ Lady Elizabeth said with a hint of derision, ‘would stir himself to go looking for criminals, is it?’
Oh, if only she knew! From what Herbert had told her, Lord Devizes had already unmasked a couple of plots against the government and brought several criminals to justice. Because of his rank, and his well-known propensity for pursuing unsavoury pastimes, he could move with ease anywhere from the highest ton parties to the lowest gaming hells without anyone raising an eyebrow. What was more, in society, people regarded him as, well, the way Lady Elizabeth did. As an idle, wealthy, wastrel. They didn’t see the more serious side of his nature, because he kept it so well hidden behind a sort of mask. To look at the amused, indolent expression he generally adopted, nobody could possibly guess what he was really thinking. Or even suspect he was thinking very much at all.
Which was the way he wanted it.
She glanced across the triangular section of lawn to the path which all the other members of the congregation were strolling along. Where he was strolling, with a lady on each arm. And smiling, as though he had not a care in the world. Even though the traitors he and Herbert had been trying to find, the ones responsible for Herbert’s murder, could well be close by.
His assailant definitely came from the ton. Or had connections to someone who had access to state secrets, such as the Duke of Theakstone.
So...perhaps that was why he was playing at not having a thought in his head beyond the formation of the next witty remark. He had to make sure nobody suspected him of being capable of doing anything as strenuous as tackling a traitor and murderer.
Which, therefore, meant she must not do anything likely to expose the serious nature of his secret work either. Including confiding in Lady Elizabeth.
‘He was Herbert’s closest friend,’ she said, dragging her gaze away from Lord Devizes and fixing it on her feet. ‘I thought he might at least have been prepared to listen.’
‘Some people,’ said Lady Elizabeth tartly, after they’d walked in sombre silence for a few paces, ‘prefer not to hear anything unpleasant, though, don’t they? They would rather avoid somebody who is in difficulty altogether than have to talk about things that might make them uncomfortable.’
Horatia flinched at the reminder she was not the only person to have gone through a very difficult time of late and saw that this girl’s own troubles were probably what had made her capable of showing such sympathy when Horatia lost her brother. ‘Yes, you know how...unkind people can be, don’t you? People you thought were your friends?’
‘Yes. But you never really know who your true friends are until trouble comes, do you? Before Papa died, I was the toast of the ton. I was invited everywhere. And then...poof! They all vanished like...like...well...’ she gave a bitter laugh ‘like our fortune. Only a very few people treated me no differently after his...disgrace. Which is why I...’ She tucked her arm through Horatia’s and gave it a brief squeeze. ‘Well, I don’t suppose I need to remind you that I consider you one of my closest friends. No matter what Mama says.’
‘As I consider you to be mine,’ said Horatia, swallowing down a lump of guilt. For although she was swearing friendship, she was holding back all sorts of things from her. And not only about the nature of Herbert’s work and the circumstances surrounding his death. And it was all very well saying she didn’t want to put Lady Elizabeth in danger, but it was more than that. She didn’t really know if she could trust her.
‘I was so angry with Lord Devizes and with Mama,’ Lady Elizabeth said ruefully, ‘for the way they talked about you just now that I rather lost my temper with them both after you’d gone.’
‘I do wish I was not adding to the bad feeling which already exists between you and your parent,’ said Horatia, feeling guiltier than ever. ‘Particularly since so much of what she says about me is nothing but the truth. I am not well born. So I am not really a fit person to be your friend, not if you wish to maintain a fashionable appearance.’
‘But I don’t! Wish to maintain a fashionable appearance, that is. You above all people should know that.’
‘Yes, I must admit that is the one aspect of having to go into mourning I can embrace. It is such a relief not to have to try to work out what colours match with which others. Having to have everything black removes most of the difficulty out of choosing what to wear in the mornings. And during the rest of the day, too.’
‘No.’ Lady Elizabeth clapped one hand to her mouth. ‘I didn’t mean to imply you are unfashionable, in that sense...’
‘Nevertheless, it is true. I have never been able to comprehend how it is that in nature there can be brown trees,’ she said, pointing with her free arm in the direction of the woodland on a nearby hill, ‘and green grass dotted with lots of different coloured flowers—’ she indicated the vibrant blooms tumbling from containers standing on the steps leading up to the terrace spanning the length of the house ‘—capped by a brilliant blue sky and it all looks charming. But put the same combination of colours and patterns next to my little body and...’ She shrugged and grimaced.
‘When you are out of mourning, I shall take you shopping. I am sure—’
‘No, please do not bother. Herbert did try to supervise my wardrobe when I first made my come-out. For he always looked so elegant, you know, that he was sure he could bring me into style.’ That was probably one of the reasons he and the Marquess had hit it off to start with. Both of them were beautiful, fashionable young men with a taste for mischief.
‘What happened, then?’
‘Well, do you know, he made the offer while we were at the theatre, just after one of his fashionable friends had turned his arrogant nose up at me for...well, I suppose I had been a touch rude, but then he was such an idiot. Anyway, there happened to be one of those acrobats upon the stage who could wrap her legs around the back of her head. And I felt as if he was urging me to become like her. You know, tying myself into a knot in order to fit in with society’s expectations.’
‘Now that,’ said Lady Elizabeth vehemently, ‘is something I completely understand. The way people expect