Page 18 of Lord of Fortune
Or found fakes.
The doubt Penn Bowen had planted in her mind drew her lips into a grimace. Damn him.
She turned and surveyed her grandfather’s small but cozy study. Everything in here was familiar and yet she felt as if she were looking at it all with new eyes. She drifted to the worktable in front of the window where he would lay out his books and antiquities. A handful of ancient iron tools cluttered one corner, while a large piece of chipped pottery sat in another.
How she wished she’d talked to him more about his interests. But she’d been too busy with her own life until coming to live with him five years ago. And then her father had died, which had prompted her grandfather’s decline. One thing shehadlearned—life was short, and the time with loved ones even more fleeting.
Which was why she was weary of being a spectator, first with her own matters and then in others. She went to the desk where she’d begun to work in recent weeks and found the last letter she’d received from Lady Spier in Bath. As chair of the Ladies’ Antiquities Society, she’d contacted Amelia after her grandfather’s death to extend her condolences. And to invite Amelia to their next meeting.
Amelia had sent a thank-you note but declined their invitation. Another invitation had arrived a month later and a third while she’d been in Burrington. It was the third—which she’d read just that morning—that she picked up. Their meeting was today. Amelia could go and find out how they’d known her grandfather and why they’d invited her. Perhaps they could also tell her about Penn Bowen or the mysterious Order. Or both.
Clutching the missive in her hand, she left the office and went in search of Mrs. Talmidge, her housekeeper. Amelia found her dusting in the small sitting room at the front of the cottage.
A motherly woman in her middle fifties with dark gray hair and bright blue eyes, the housekeeper looked up as Amelia entered. “Do you need something, Mrs. Forrest?”
“I should like to go into Bath this afternoon for an appointment. Has Horatio returned from accompanying Mr. Talmidge on his errands?”
“Just a bit ago. I’ll let him know to ready the carriage. When do you wish to leave?”
“Within the hour, thank you.”
“Dare I hope you’re attending a social engagement of some kind?” Mrs. Talmidge’s mouth curved into an expectant smile.
“Yes, in fact.” Amelia enjoyed a rather close relationship with the staff. They were like family, probably because most of them were. Mrs. Talmidge was married to the caretaker, Mr. Talmidge, and the groom who also served as coachman and footman was their son Horatio. Amelia’s maid, Culley, was Mrs. Talmidge’s niece. Only the cook, Mrs. Jermyn, wasn’t related to the Talmidges, but she and Mrs. Talmidge had worked together since they were fifteen, so they might as well have been sisters.
The housekeeper’s smile broadened. “How lovely. I am so glad you aren’t spending too much time in mourning. Your grandfather wouldn’t want that.”
Amelia glanced down at her dove-gray gown, one of only a few she owned that would satisfy mourning costume. She didn’t see the point in investing in any. “I’ll just get ready. Please let Horatio know I’ll be down shortly.”
Mrs. Talmidge gave a brief nod before disappearing from the sitting room. Amelia followed her out and went upstairs to prepare for her departure.
Less than an hour later, Horatio steered the coach into Sydney Place. It was a fashionable address, and Amelia had to assume Lady Spier came from wealth. Or had married wealth.
Horatio opened the door and helped her down. Amelia took a deep breath and formulated the questions she wanted to ask. She prided herself on organization and order, which made this mystery surrounding her grandfather and his findings so troubling. It was difficult not to be able to lay her hands on proof that what he’d found wasreal.
As she reached the top step in front of the door, the portal swung open, and a tall stately butler welcomed her inside. “Good afternoon,” he intoned, his deep voice carrying through the large marbled foyer.
“Good afternoon.” Amelia kept her voice soft, feeling a trifle intimidated by her formal surroundings. She’d been in elegant settings before, but she came from a simple background. “I’m Mrs. Forrest. I’m here to attend a meeting.”
“Of course. Please follow me.” He turned on his heel and led her toward the back of the foyer, where he took a sharp right. Pausing at the threshold of a well-appointed sitting room, he said, “Mrs. Forrest has arrived.”
Three women were seated, and one of them stood. “Thank you, Blessing.”
Blessing? Amelia slid a glance toward the butler as he turned and left.
The woman came forward, drawing Amelia’s attention once more. “We are so delighted you’ve come!” She paused in front of Amelia, her full lips spreading into a welcoming smile and her gray eyes twinkling. Blonde curls framed her face, and Amelia realized they had met before, at some social event within the last few years, though she couldn’t place exactly where.
Amelia bobbed a brief curtsey. “Thank you for the kind invitation, Lady Spier.”
“Oh, you must call me Andy, which is short for Andromeda, of course—all my friends do, and I’ve decided we shall be friends. Come and meet the other members of the Society. Well, the ones who are here. We’re missing one, I’m afraid, but she was recently wed, so she has an excuse for her absence.”
“An exceedingly poor one, if you ask me,” one of the other women said a bit sourly. She was clearly a relative of Andy’s, with the same strong chin and similar golden hair, though hers carried a bit of red that gave it a coppery tone. Gold-rimmed spectacles framed her hazel eyes as she looked Amelia over.
“You would say that, committed spinster that you are,” the third woman said softly, but with a warmth that said they regularly spoke to each other in this manner.
Andy laughed. “Forgive my sister, Mrs. Forrest. Selina is quite right about Cassie’s spinsterhood. Allow me to present Miss Cassiopeia—Cassie—Whitfield and Mrs. Selina Ashcombe.”
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Amelia said, inclining her head to them.
