Page 38 of Murder in Matrimony
“You need a tailor.” She stood and went to her desk. “I have the best.”
“I do not doubt it.”
Amelia scratched out an introduction. “Reticules are a nuisance when riding. Hussain will ensure she has pockets in her skirt.” She walked the paper over to him.
“She wishes to ride in Hyde Park, at the fashionable hour.”A question lurked behind Isaac Jakeman’s pewter-colored eyes, and she went about answering it immediately.
“And why wouldn’t she? If I see her, I will greet her warmly.”
“I do not like her to go. On the East Side, we are respected. We are known. Here?” He shrugged. “I cannot protect her.”
“I understand.” She held out the paper. “You do not want her feelings hurt.” After he took it, she crossed her arms. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret. Women get their feelings hurt all the time. I do. She will. Anyone who feels deeply, which is most women I know, opens themselves up to discomfort. It might make us sad in the moment, but it also makes us strong.” She caught his eye. “Stronger than you think.”
He held her gaze for a moment, and at that moment, she saw so much more than a fence. She saw a man who was caught between two worlds, a man who did not belong to either, a man who would throw over both for the love of his wife.
He folded the paper into his pocket. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” She dug into the folds of her dress, retrieving the square of fabric left behind after her run-in at Hyde Park Corner. “I have one more question, if I may. Have you ever seen a handkerchief like this before?”
She handed him the handkerchief, and he turned it over, examining all four corners carefully. “This comes from your end of town, not mine. We do not have time for busywork.” He gestured to the intricate stitching. “If they have the patience or skill, our women make matchsticks or lace.” He gave it back to her. “This is from your Mayfair ballrooms, as if someone dropped it on purpose so that you might follow.”
If a woman wanted to be introduced to a man and had no recourse to do so, she might accidentally drop her handkerchief so that he would pick it up, thus ensuring a meeting. Someone could have, in fact, dropped the handkerchief with the intention of her picking it up. But why? That question was harder to answer. Perhaps they wanted to prove they knew she was Lady Agony, or maybe they wanted her to return it, forcing an introduction. If it did belong to someone in Mayfair, it supported her supposition that the blackmailer was indeed one of the victims of the Mayfair Marauder.
“I see the wheels are turning, so I will let them turn and take my leave.” He stood, returning his bowler hat to his head. “Good luck with your priest.”
“Thank you, and good luck with your riding habit—I mean your wife’s riding habit.”
He was still chuckling as he disappeared behind the curtain.
After he left, Amelia revisited her brandy, laying the problem aside for the time being. Instead, she considered her family’s upcoming visit. Despite the complications—and Aunt Tabitha’s complaints—she was looking forward to seeing her relatives. The West End might know how to host a soiree, but the Scotts knew how to have a good time. She found it was always the case with people who cared for one another. They didn’t need expensive food or clothes to enjoy themselves. Being with each other was always enough.
Her sister was expected to return to London next week. Their parents planned to join her and Captain Fitz. Then the excitement would begin. Her extended family would arrive and, with them, a general energy and chaos that wouldn’t subside until they left. Tabitha would despise it. Winifred would love it. And Amelia was determined to cherish every second of it, for it wasn’t every day that one’s baby sister got married—even if it was by Mr. Penroy. She wrinkled her nose.No matter. She promised to enjoy herself. A priest, a murderer, or a blackmailer had little power against the force that was the Scott family.
SEVENTEEN
Dear Lady Agony,
Is it ever acceptable to eavesdrop? My friend believes it is never appropriate, while I say a situation might warrant it. What do you say?
Devotedly,
Dallying in Doorways
Dear Dallying in Doorways,
Eavesdropping is acceptable if the motive is pure and the situation dire. Both conditions must be met, however, for the behavior to be excused. Otherwise, it is in bad taste and should be avoided at all costs—even information—and you, dear readers, know how well I enjoy staying informed.
Yours in Secret,
Lady Agony
The next evening, Kitty arrived on Amelia’s doorstep in a plain gray dress, ready to make the trek to St. George-in-the-East. When Amelia inquired on her fashion choice, she explained she made it on purpose. It was a dress that showed she was serious about volunteer work. Amelia said she didn’t believe it mattered what they wore if they were there to help.
“Oh, no.” Kitty shook her head, which was free of the curls that usually appeared at her cheeks and behind her ears. “It does matter. I’ve done volunteer work, and you must appear conscientious.”
Amelia frowned, confused.
“Let me put it this way. In a West End drawing room, the nicest dressed woman is liked the best, correct?”
