Though her father had not come out and said so, she must understand that she had a job to do while she was in Town. She was to get herself married to somebody suitable. It was her one chance, and another chance would not come again.
Lord Langley was not suitable. For one, he was the son of her sponsor and that dear lady had already chosen for him by way of Lady Annabelle. For another, she was certainhewas not equally flustered. It would be the most idiotic thing in the world to have any hopes in that direction. It would be pointless, and she would not allow herself to be pointless. She had deemed him attractive the moment she’d laid eyes on him, but that shallow sentiment was where it must stay. Nothing more.
Her father had not had the means to launch her properly. From out of the blue, a heaven-sent opportunity had come her way. She must not be stupid about it.
“You seem pensive, Miss Wilcox,” Lord Langley said as the dance ended.
“Do I?” Georgiana said. “I was only reminding myself not to be stupid.”
Lord Langley laughed. “Are you in the habit of it?”
“Not usually,” Georgiana said quietly.
“Well, you must gather your wits for the next bit of this evening, as you will need them.”
It was an enigmatic thing to say, and Georgiana had no idea what he meant by it.
He held out his arm and led her toward the dining room.
Georgiana had expected the supper,funnyas Lady Redfield had claimed it would be, to be much like other suppers at other dances she had attended. That was not the case.
First, Lord Ryland’s dining room was of such dimensions as to make Georgiana certain that he’d knocked down some walls that would have originally been other rooms. It was cavernous and just as big as the ballroom. Then, rather than a long table, there were smaller, square tables to seat just four people scattered about the room. It was rather like an enormous and opulent common room at an inn.
It seemed they had also been assigned where they were to be seated, as dozens of footmen were on hand to take a name and lead one to their proper place. It was the oddest set-up imaginable, at least to Georgiana’s eyes.
As soon as Lord Langley said his name, a bright-faced young footman led them to a table on the far side of the room. A table that also contained Lord Bertridge and…Lady Annabelle.
Neither Georgiana nor Lady Annabelle seemed particularly enthusiastic about the arrangement, though if anybody noticed it, it was not Lord Bertridge.
“Lady Annabelle,” he said, “Miss Wilcox is sponsored by Lady Mendleton. You will have heard of The Society of Sponsoring Ladies? My aunt, Lady Easton is also a member. Very worthy cause.”
Georgiana knew her rosy cheeks must be flaming to hear herself spoken of as a cause. Especially in front of Lady Annabelle.
“Indeed?” Lady Annabelle said. “I had not heard of the society.”
“Oh yes,” Lord Bertridge said, “disadvantaged girls and all that.”
“Miss Wilcox’s father, Baron Manley, is a cousin to my mother,” Lord Langley said. “I am certain Miss Wilcox would have come to us regardless of any society the ladies have thrown together to amuse themselves.”
Georgiana was grateful beyond measure at this rescue, and well aware that it hinted at a standing with the family that she certainly did not have. Her father was so distant a cousin to Lady Mendleton that he was not even sure of the connection—two grandmothers had been cousins, perhaps? She was further grateful that the conversation would not continue, as Lord Ryland stood at the top of the room and dinged his glass.
“Welcome, my esteemed guests,” he said. “As my regulars are well aware, there is no getting out of this house without a mystery to solve. You will also know, there is always a unique prize given to the person who discovers the solution first. You will hear of it when and if you have won and I must say this year’s reward is rather spectacular. Look under your plates and enjoy.”
Georgiana had some trouble making sense of what Lord Ryland was attempting to get across, as she had been so sure the funny dinner that had discomposed Lady Redfield had involved food and not a mystery. As everybody else in the room was lifting their plates and removing a folded piece of paper, she did too. As she did so, she also noticed sticks of Barrowdale graphite, sharpened and wrapped with thin ribbon, laid by, she assumed for notetaking.
She was rather delighted with the scheme. Mrs. Arrowford of her own neighborhood had put on any number of mystery evenings. The lady spent months coming up with the clues and the solution always came together wonderfully at the end. So far, Georgiana had only been the first to solve a mystery once, but she had become accustomed to the way the thing was set up. Every statement had a meaning—either toward the solution or deliberately away from it.
Of course, Mrs. Arrowford did not attempt to do the thing at a dining table, so that certainly was an unusual aspect.
“Goodness,” Lady Annabelle said, “I hope I am not overcome by this new report of a grisly circumstance. Last year, poor Lord Langley had to fetch a vinaigrette.”
“You may depend upon me,” Lord Bertridge said. “If it is needed, I will retrieve it at once. I believe Ryland keeps hartshorn handy by the doors for just such a circumstance.”
Georgiana turned her attention to the paper, as she did not find Lady Annabelle’s threatening to faint at all interesting.
The case of John Herbert
At 3 o’clock on the Sunday afternoon of August 12th1810 in the neighborhood of St. Giles, John Herbert, 22, was found murdered by way of a stab wound to his back in his garret on the top floor of a rooming house. Other than the victim, nobody was discovered in the room and the door and only window were securely locked from the inside. Those were the only two ways into the room.
