then Cassandra had either lost or elected not to fight.
She met his eyes and smiled, a smile that crept into the hollowness inside him. He crossed the room and jabbed at the fire with the poker.
“Lucy had a wonderful time with her grandmother again today,” Cassandra told nobody in particular.
“She let me try on one of her old court gowns,” Lucy said. “From when she was lady-in-waiting to the queen about two hundred years ago. It weighs more than a calf, and I had to walk sideways through doors. It turns out that I am extremely talented at walking sideways through doors.”
Isaac was over at the drinks. “Why would you want to walk sideways through doors?” he asked. “Why not go backward like the rest of us?”
Lucy laughed. “It’s the style of gown, silly. It has huge panniers out the side.”
“Ah.” Isaac, having run out of conversation about gowns, poured himself a drink. Joshua, who had never had any conversation about gowns, joined him at the sideboard and studied the bowls of sweets and nuts.
“The skirts are so big, a couple of children could hide under them,” Lucy went on. “Why, I suspect I could hide even a grown man under there.”
All saucy innocence, she waited for a reaction. Joshua looked to Cassandra for guidance. He noticed that Isaac, Newell, and Emily also looked to Cassandra for guidance. Cassandra breathed in, breathed out, and played a card.
“Your turn, Mr. Newell,” she said calmly.
Newell played his card. Cassandra considered her own hand. Isaac poured a drink. Joshua chewed on a piece of candied lemon. Emily hunched her shoulders and whispered, “Your turn, Lu.”
Lucy did not even look at her cards.
“I spent hours practicing my curtsy and waltz today,” Lucy said brightly. “My poor legs are so tired. A lotion would relieve them, if I could find someone to rub it in.”
Isaac coughed and tossed back his drink. Joshua poked through the nuts in search of one he liked. No one said a word.
Until Lucy started to talk again, and Cassandra cut her off.
“How was your visit to the boys’ home?” Cassandra asked. “Did you see Martin? Has he learned how to fly?”
Joshua did not turn around, because he still had not found a suitable nut, and he could not answer questions about dead boys if he did not have a suitable nut.
Isaac stepped in to fill the silence, talking as he poured another drink. “We have four alibis now, which Sir G. has verified. Tomorrow we’ll get a statement from the woman whom Joshua visits, and then it is all done.”
Oh hell. Oh bloody, bloody hell.
Isaac’s words ricocheted around the room like an echo in a tomb, and left a cold, still silence in their wake.
Moving so slowly that he almost creaked, Joshua turned around.
Cassandra was studying her cards intently, tapping a finger on her lips as though she faced a life-or-death decision. Newell wore a pained smile, and Emily, who was so sensitive to atmosphere the Navy could hire her as a barometer, looked ready to shatter.
Only Lucy seemed happy.
“The woman whom Joshua visits?” she repeated. “What woman?”
“Did I say ‘woman’?” Isaac said hurriedly. “I meant ‘wombat’, which is an odd badger-like animal found in the colony of New South Wales. There’s a specimen at the Royal Society, did you know? Dead, of course, but most things at the Royal Society are. So, wombat. Only a wombat. Ignore what I say. I’m just a drunken sailor.” He gulped his brandy. “See? Drunken sailor.” He poured and gulped another.
“Do tell us about this woman,” Lucy said. “She sounds most intriguing. Joshua, is this woman—”
“Lucy! Enough!” Cassandra slapped the card table, which was not sturdy enough to withstand a battle between the Lightwell sisters, for it shook and shuddered and Lucy’s sherry tumbled over. Newell rushed to clean up the spill; Cassandra and Lucy, eyes locked on each other, did not even notice. “For one blessed moment in your life, can you have enough regard for others to quell your need to be the center of attention.”
The two sisters stared at each other like hissing cats. No one else moved, but for Newell mopping up the sherry.
Then Cassandra sat back in her chair, considered her cards, and said, “It’s your turn, Lucy.”
Lucy rolled her eyes and sat back too. “Marriage changed you, Mother Cassandra.” She tossed a card onto the pile. “You’re no fun any more.”
“I was never much fun. You and Miranda were always the fun ones, making trouble and taking