Page 25 of A Murder at Kew Gardens

"What look?"

"The one that means you've had an idea and I am about to suffer for it."

"I hardly think suffer is the word."

"It usually is."

I seated myself opposite her. "Lady Pembury is holding a musicale two evenings hence."

"No."

"You haven't heard the rest."

"There needn't be a rest. You said musicale."

"Most people wait until they know what they're refusing."

"Not when experience has rendered further evidence unnecessary."

I smiled despite myself. "Chrissie⁠—"

"No, Rosie. I refuse. Musicales are dreadful. One spends an hour listening to an opera singer murder Italian, another listening to a gentleman attack a pianoforte as though it had insulted his mother, and, if Providence has abandoned us entirely, there is a violin."

I bit the inside of my cheek. Experience had taught me that encouraging Chrissie once she had begun cataloguing the deficiencies of musicales only prolonged the recital.

"And afterward everyone congratulates one another on what a splendid evening it has been, though every soul in the room was praying for it to end.”

"Then consider this an opportunity to suffer in good company."

"Rosie…"

"This is for Cosmos."

The complaint vanished from her face. "How is our attendance at this musicale going to help?" she asked quietly.

“Sir Basil was often found at musicales and small soirées, according to Claire. If we attend this one, I may learn who welcomed his acquaintance—and who profited by it."

"Will it help Cosmos?"

"It might."

She lowered her gaze to the journal resting in her lap. "Then I shall attend.”

"You needn't sound as though I have sentenced you to transportation."

She released a theatrical sigh. "I am trying to be brave."

Petunia's dramatic tendencies had not sprung from nowhere. She had learned them from Chrissie.

“Will there be a violin?" Chrissie asked.

"I have no idea."

"If there is, I hope it plays briefly."

"Your sacrifice shall not be in vain."

She fixed me with a solemn look. "I expect chocolate afterward."