“Well, I did have a bright idea at the time. You know those caricatures you see for sale at print shops and sometimes printed in the newspapers? The ones that poke at the prince and parliament and the like? I know a fella who draws such things and works at a press. I was gonna ask him to sketch Letty Grange as a fishwife shouting at somebody looking very like Mr. Leister and pepper the neighborhood with them. You see, to give a clue to Mr. Leister as to what he was getting himself into. I didn’t do it, though.”
“The point is, you could have done it. Would it have cost a lot?”
“No, not too much. My friend would’ve sketched it for free, so then it was just the printing to pay for. I was only to do it on Berwick Street, not paper all of London with it.”
Well, that was something to think about, was it not? Lilith very much doubted that Lord Wembly would continue to be interested in a lady if she’d made herself notorious for being a liar. Perhaps Lilith could even assign a nickname. “Lady Fiction” sounded just about right.
“Clara,” she said, “might you arrange a meeting with this young man who sketches?”
*
Though Valor andWinsome were beyond put out that they did not win the scavenger hunt and therefore did not win the bejeweled mirror, Verity could not give a toss about it. As far as she was concerned, the thing had come off perfectly. Somehow, she’d solved two clues! She’d been so afraid that she’d be found out as stupid, but she’d solved two clues. It almost felt like a miracle.
It occurred to her that since she was effectively locked out of all the knowledge in books, she’d paid careful attention to any piece of information she’d heard. Winsome might have remembered the vicar’s sermon about Moses and the bronze snake, but she hadn’t. Her head was too filled up with information she’d read in books to recall a passing word from the vicar. Verity’s own head was not so filled up.
Thomas had brought in the tea tray, replete with the miniature apple cakes.
Winsome said, “The apple cakes are special, only our cook makes them exactly like this. But don’t try to find out how. Ouraunt, Lady Marchfield, tried to get the recipe for her own cook but ours said no.”
“Papa calls our aunt Lady Misery,” Valor said, laughing, “and she was pretty miserable that day! Also, Papa says she’s a polecat sticking her nose into hen houses that are not her own. It’s so funny because she gets so mad about it.”
Lord Wembly’s eyes had gone rather wide at those descriptions. Verity said, “My father and my aunt often…cross swords.”
Sir Galahad made his appearance in the drawing room, no doubt having been napping in Valor’s room.
“There he is,” Lord Wembly said, as Sir Galahad trotted in. “It cannot be denied—he really is tremendous.”
“I know,” Valor said. “And just think, he could have been drowned in the Thames if I hadn’t got my father’s gun and put a stop to it. If anybody ever tries to hurt him again, I’ll shoot them full of holes. Or I’ll have Thomas do it. Then who will be sorry?”
Not surprisingly, Lord Wembly appeared even more startled to hear this information.
“Perhaps no actual guns were involved,” Verity said softly.
“They practically were, though,” Valor said. “Because I would have got one if I had to. It’s the same.”
“If not precisely the same,” Lord Wembly said, “then at least very like. After all, it is the thought and intent behind the thing that really matters.”
“That’s what I think,” Valor said. “If Iwouldhave got a gun, then I practicallydidget a gun.”
“Quite right,” Lord Wembly said.
Valor nodded. Then she paused. “Oh no,” she whispered. She pointed at Lord Wembly. “I know what you’re doing! You’re trying to get me to like you.”
Lord Wembly laughed. “Would that be a crime?”
Valor hopped from the sofa and swept Sir Galahad into her arms. “We’re going!” she said, marching out of the drawing room.
“Good effort, though,” the duke said as his youngest daughter flounced out. The duke had so far been enjoying his second apple cake. He gestured to Winsome. “Why don’t you show me that book on the back bookshelf you’ve been talking about for days. The one with the innocent girl trapped in a damp castle full of ghosts.”
Winsome agreed, though Verity knew perfectly well that the last thing her father would be interested in was a book about an innocent girl trapped in a damp castle full of ghosts. She hoped she was not blushing over this obvious gambit to give her a moment alone with Lord Wembly.
Her father and sister went to the back of the drawing room. Verity said, “It was very kind to indulge Valor. And you ought not feel singled out for her disapproval. She’s done it to everybody.”
“Who is everybody?” Lord Wembly asked, looking amused.
“Oh, well, you know how it is. Any gentleman coming into the house.”
“Ah. Suitors, then.”
