“We promised not to,” Janet said miserably, coming back into the room. “But I suppose it doesn’t really matter now she’s dead. Except for her family. But you’ll know what to do for the best, my lady.” She lowered her voice. “Nancy was going to have a baby. She was pregnant.”
Chapter Five
Until she wandered from habit into the library just before the dinner hour, she had forgotten that she had yet to face her parents—and Horace. Annoyed for failing to have invited herself to dine at her friend Annabelle’s house, she almost turned back to request a tray in her room instead. However, since this was both craven and unlikely to diffuse the situation, she quickly gave up the idea and peered around the door.
Her heart lifted to find neither of her parents there, only her brothers Horace and Forsythe. And, she saw with happiness, a guest—Horace’s colleague Mr. Gabriel, whose presence, she hoped, would rein in Horace’s anger. Not that she was afraid of Horace, but it was tedious and distracting to endure one of his lectures.
“What are we celebrating?” Forsythe asked as Horace handed sherry glasses to him and Mr. Gabriel. “Have the police caught the swine who killed poor, little Nancy?”
“Oh, no, this is a much more important case,” Horace said, “concerning the whole country. Gabriel has proved to be something of a genius, following whispers to a very unlikely source, and the result is we’ve brought down a whole gang of treasonous dogs in the rookeries. Why—” He broke off as his gaze fell on Griz wandering into the room, and he frowned as though trying to remember why he was cross with her.
Luck appeared to be still on her side.
“Lady Grizelda,” Mr. Gabriel greeted her with a civil bow. A serious man of middle height and mild if gentlemanly appearance, he was a frequent and comfortable guest at Kelburn House.
“Good evening,” she replied cheerfully, nodding to the three men in careless fashion. “How do you do, Mr. Gabriel? I hear you are to be congratulated on your recent engagement!”
Gabriel, who had always appeared to her a rather cold fish, actually blushed, which was rather endearing. “Thank you, ma’am, it is a matter of great happiness to me.”
“As it should be,” she said warmly. “I look forward to meeting the lady.”
“I shall be honored to introduce her. Lady Trench has been kind enough to invite us both to her soiree next week.”
The invitation was, Griz thought, pleased, one of her eldest sister’s random acts of kindness to those beneath her on the social scale.
“Excellent,” she approved, smiling, and turned to her brothers. “Are Their Graces out for the evening?”
“Dining with the Russells,” Horace replied. “So, you get to play hostess, God help us. Griz, what the devil do you mean by going to Great Scotland Yard and bandying my name around?”
She should have known better. Of course, he had not forgotten, whatever major success had momentarily distracted him.
She shrugged. “Well, I thought they were more likely to listen to me if I said I was your sister. And I really did feel obliged to give my statement when I discovered they had arrested the wrong man for poor Nancy’s murder.” She dropped onto the nearest sofa and smiled vaguely. “I wanted to do the right thing.”
Horace stared at her. “Very laudable. But how the devil do you know he was the wrong man?”
“Didn’t you read my statement?” she asked innocently.
Horace narrowed his eyes. “Harris showed it to me. I had to agree you were a truthful person, but wild to a fault. It is not easy to explain to someone why one’s sister was gallivanting in dark alleys in the neighborhood of Covent Garden!”
“I was at the opera.”
“I have yet to discover they sing outside,” Horace said with heavy sarcasm.
“You know I was trying to speak to Nancy,” she said reproachfully.
“She meant it for the best, Horace, let her be,” Forsythe interjected. “She was pretty shaken, you know.”
“Exactly!” Horace exploded.
“Lady Grizelda,” Mr. Gabriel intervened, “must be unaware of the many dangers lying in wait for an unprotected lady in such areas. If you knew the world as we do, my lady, you would never venture into such places as Mudd Lane, alone or otherwise.”
“I understand,” Griz said meekly.
“You should have come to me,” Horace added, scowling. “Don’t go behind my back to policemen.”
“Very well.” She jumped to her feet with relief as Berry, the butler, announced dinner.