Scandal Meets Its Match (The May Flowers #7) - Merry Farmer Page 0,76

be in company. A fortnight ago, that would have been precisely how they would have behaved. But too much water had flooded out the bridge. Pride wouldn’t let him give up his hurt entirely, although his heart longed for things to be smooth between him and Lenore again.

“Any idea why your brother insisted I host this ball?” Lenore whispered, putting on a smile and nodding at a few members of the May Flowers who acknowledged her, but didn’t try to engage her in conversation, as she and Phin passed them.

“He’s found a suitor for Lady Agnes, apparently,” Phin muttered in return.

“Yes, I saw them leaving just before we entered the room,” Lenore said. “Do you think that’s the only reason—”

“Well, well. Look who has arrived at last.” They were stopped in their tracks by none other than Lady Hamilton. She must not have noticed Phin loitering near her earlier. Then again, Phin hadn’t noticed that she had Det. Gleason with her, but there the man was.

“Mr. Mercer, Miss Garrett.” Det. Gleason nodded to them, then sent a look to Lady Hamilton that was hard for Phin to read. The man might have been trying to tell them something.

Before he could ask any questions to find out, Lady Hamilton drew herself up to her full height so that she could stare down her nose at both Phin and Lenore. “I know the truth,” she said as if on stage, about to reveal who the murderer was.

“I beg your pardon, Lady Hamilton?” Lenore asked, her face going bright red with what Phin recognized as a combination of anger and embarrassment.

Phin sent a covert glance around them, loathing how many people were listening in on the confrontation.

“You cannot keep your wicked secret from me anymore,” Lady Hamilton went on, playing to the crowd instead of avoiding them. “My faithful friend here has discovered you at last.” She gestured to Det. Gleason.

Gleason glanced warily at Lady Hamilton and heaved a small sigh.

Before he could say anything, Lenore hissed, “All of London is aware of my previous marriage, Lady Hamilton. You hardly need a detective to figure it out.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lady Hamilton said, flustered, likely because Lenore didn’t collapse into tears in front of her.

“Yes,” Lenore sighed, pressing the fingertips of her free hand to her temple, as though she had a headache. “I am legally married to a Mr. Bartholomew Swan. But the circumstances of that marriage are not at all what I’m sure everyone thinks they are.” She pivoted slightly and met the eyes of some of the eavesdroppers around them, showing that she knew everyone was listening.

Those who had an ounce of shame in them turned away and pretended they weren’t being nosy. That was only a small fraction of the people surrounding them, though.

“I wasn’t referring to your rather shocking marriage, Miss—er—Mrs. Swan,” Lady Hamilton said, losing even more of her bombastic certainty. “I wasn’t specifically talking to you.” She glanced to Phin. “I was referring to a certain wicked and shameful publication.”

Phin held his breath. His game was over. Lady Hamilton knew.

Except, rather than rake him over the coals, she turned her frown to Lenore again. “That is to say, I know it was one of the two of you.” Her eyes narrowed further, as though she were trying to work out which one. “Det. Gleason has been most effective in his investigations.”

Phin clenched his jaw and studied Gleason. The detective’s face had gone completely blank as Lady Hamilton made a show of trying to work things out, but he did shift his glance to meet Phin’s eyes. In a flash, Phin was certain the man knew. He’d likely uncovered everything. But it was also obvious that he hadn’t revealed what he knew to Lady Hamilton. Phin’s mouth twitched into a brief grin. Like everything else about the evening, that much had Lionel written all over it.

“I’m sure Det. Gleason is more than competent,” Phin said with as much respect as he could muster, “but in this case, he might just be mistaken.” He nodded to Gleason, smiled at Lady Hamilton, then turned to Lenore. “Would you care to dance?”

“I would love to,” Lenore said with as much relief in her voice as if he’d offered to whisk her away to the island of Tahiti as a respite from all her troubles.

“I’m not finished speaking with you,” Lady Hamilton protested as Phin led Lenore away to the dance floor, which was filling up with couples as the