Page 85 of A Murder in Trinity Lane
“You are aware, Grandmother, that St. Agnes is managed by nuns. They make excellent guardians of virtue.”
Her eyes snapped. “Don’t get smart with me.”
I sighed. She was right. She didn’t deserve such disrespect. “We’re trying to solve a murder.”
“And how will you manage that? You’re no detective.”
“Maybe not, but someone has to care. What happened to Elsie Leonard was monstrous.”
She set her teacup down with an audible clink. “Listen to me. If you persist in gallivanting around London with a notorious duke, you will ruin not only your own name—but Chrissie’s as well. And the twins’. And poor Laurel.”
“I don’t gallivant. I investigate.”
“You disregard propriety.” Her voice sharpened. “Society is ruthless to women who defy its rules. You may believe yourself above it, but your sisters are not.”
Her words struck deeper than I cared to admit. I looked down, twisting my hands in my lap.
After a long moment, her tone softened. “You are clever, Rosalynd. But cleverness is no substitute for caution. Do not confuse the two.”
“I won’t,” I said quietly.
She rose and smoothed her skirts. “I have another engagement to attend to, so I must take my leave. I hope you’ll consider my advice—for your sisters’ sake, if not your own.” And then she firmly stamped down her cane and strode out of the room.
Emotionally exhausted by the events of the day, I climbed the stairs to my bedchamber and shut the door behind me. Welcoming the silence, I settled into the chair near the hearth where the fire burned low and the quiet gave me space to think.
Grandmother was right. My actions reflected on my sisters. No matter how unfair that might be. Chrissie might be one of the most popular debutantes of the Season, but that could change in a heartbeat. If my behavior was deemed scandalous by society,it might jeopardize her chances of making a good match. Unlike me, she wished to marry.
And then there was Steele.
I hated to admit it, but he was right. I had been reckless. Not in my visit to Kew Gardens, but my excursion to Saffron Hill.
Following that man from St. Agnes without an escort had been extremely foolhardy, even though I’d done it for the best of reasons. I’d hoped Elsie’s murderer, eager to take possession of Elsie’s things, would appear. But he hadn’t, even though I’d stood in that disgusting alley for hours. If I’d thought about it for even one second, I would have realized her assassin wouldn’t be stupid enough to come in person. He’d have the box brought to him. But, intent as I was to find justice for Elsie, I hadn’t thought that far.
I had to face the fact. I’d allowed my emotions to override my common sense. And that meant I owed Steele an apology.
Just as I reached that humbling conclusion, a knock sounded at the door.
I opened it to find a footman holding a silver salver. “A note was just delivered, my lady. Mr. Honeycutt thought it best to bring it up at once.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking it from him. “That will be all.” He made a quick retreat.
The handwriting on the envelope was neat, precise, but unfamiliar. Curious, I broke the seal.
My dear Lady Rosalynd,
It was a pleasure to see you earlier at Kew Gardens. You seemed so taken with our discussion of family that I thought you might wish to meet another member of mine—my aunt, Lady Harriet Vale. She has long served as the matriarchal heart of our household.
We would be delighted to host you, and Rosehaven as well, for dinner tomorrow evening at eight. It would be just the four of us, as Henry has a previous commitment.
Do say yes.
Yours most sincerely,
Nathaniel Vale
I read it twice.
So. He believed I’d been charmed by his family. And him. And now he wanted to draw me in further.
