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“But why so many? I do not understand.”

“Neither do we.” The two sisters exchanged glances. “When he visited he would spend a great deal of time walking about the house, just looking, and once he brought a man with him who took measurements and hammered on the walls.”

“How odd.”

“It was, rather. We have also had Lord Lawson here once, shortly after we moved in, but that was to welcome us. In Anthony’s stead, was what he said.”

The two sisters watched her expectantly.

“Lord Lawson?”

Miss Susan was eager to enlighten her. “He is a member of Sir Robert Peel’s Tory party, and some say he will be the next prime minister. He may have been so now if Lord Melbourne had not inveigled his way back into government because the queen is so fond of him.”

The Beatty sisters did not appear to be impressed with Lord Melbourne, and Vivianna did not blame them. The prime minister was deeply conservative and seemed not to believe in reform of any kind. He had lost office in 1839 to Sir Robert Peel, but due to Queen Victoria’s refusal to dismiss her current ladies-in-waiting and allow Sir Robert to install new ladies of his own party’s persuasion—as was the custom—and Sir Robert’s subsequent stubborn stance on the matter, Lord Melbourne had been asked to return as prime minister. But it was, Vivianna felt sure, only a matter of time before Lord Melbourne was once more ousted—he was very unpopular with all but the queen, and now that she was enraptured by her new husband, Prince Albert, he had lost even her wholehearted support.

“Why would Lord Lawson welcome you in Anthony’s stead?” Vivianna asked, puzzled.

“Lord Lawson was Anthony’s very good friend.”

“Lord Lawson has written to us since his visit,” Miss Susan added. “He sent a note in response to our news that Candlewood was to be demolished, saying he would do all in his power to prevent it, but that as the property now belonged to Lord Montegomery, it may be a difficult matter.”

“Still, it cannot harm us to have a champion of his standing,” her sister added. “Lord Lawson is very well thought of. A great man.”

Vivianna agreed it would do them no harm to have a possible future PM on their side. “But I still don’t see why Lord Montegomery would visit Candlewood when he has said he wants nothing more than to see it turned to dust. It is odd.”

“Very odd.”

Vivianna sipped her tea. “It may be helpful,” she said carefully, “if I knew the strange and unfortunate circumstances of Anthony’s death.”

“It is mostly gossip,” Miss Susan replied with a grimace, “but if it will help…”

“Anthony had been to a dinner at his club in the city,” Miss Greta took up the story. “Afterwards, he walked to Candlewood—he often did that, he said it cleared his head. He was planning to sleep here overnight before traveling on to his home in Derbyshire in the morning. His brother was to collect him by coach and they would travel together. You see, Miss Greentree, at that time there were no permanent staff at Candlewood—only those who came once a week to do some cleaning.”

“So Anthony Montegomery was here on his own?”

“Yes, all on his own. When his brother arrived in the morning, he found him lying in the hall, quite dead. He had been shot in the head. It was put about that someone had broken into the house, a thief perhaps, and finding Anthony here alone, had shot him to escape. The odd thing is, the pistol that did the deed was Anthony’s own, and it was found beside his body. Gossip would have it that he took his own life, but the full facts of the matter have never come out because no one ever came forward, and of course the family rejected suicide. Oliver took his brother’s death very hard. I have heard he was quite changed by it.”

The story was a tragic one, Vivianna thought. To lose one’s brother in such circumstances made her heart ache for him. But did Oliver’s loss excuse his selfishness in removing the orphans from their home? No, it did not.

“After Anthony’s death, Oliver inherited the Montegomery estate, the house in London, and Candlewood.” Miss Greta’s eyes flashed. “You know the rest.”

“Why do the gossips believe Anthony killed himself? Was he an unhappy man?”

Miss Susan leaned closer. “There was a reason he may have killed himself, Miss Greentree. Evidently he was about to become engaged to a girl, a girl he loved very much, but the night he died he had come upon his brother and the girl…embracing. I suppose, if he thought his heart was broken and all his happiness destroyed, he might contemplate suicide.”

“I see that he might,” Vivianna murmured. Anger seared through her, turning any lingering pity to steam. “How terrible. And why am I not surprised?”

“The Montegomeries were once a great family,” Miss Greta added fuel to the fire. “They had wealth and position. But now they are on the wane. If Anthony had lived, perhaps they may have risen again. Everyone says he had promise, and with a friend like Lord Lawson…But his brother…” She shook her head. “He is handsome and charming, I grant you, at least superficially so, but I believe he spends all his time in the pursuit of his own pleasure.”

“And he is so lacking in any sort of honor and proper feeling that he stole his brother’s fiancée. And his brother discovered it!” Miss Susan declared.

There was a silence while Vivianna picked over the ruin they had made of Oliver’s character. Could this unsavory fellow really be Oliver, with his dark lock of hair falling over his brow, his intense eyes, and his charming smile? No doubt Oliver had also fascinated his brother’s lady-love—Vivianna did not hesitate to put the entire blame on him. What chance did the lady have against such odds? He was her Uncle Toby all over again; a wicked and hard-hearted rascal who would stop at nothing to indulge his own appetite.

This morning he had kissed her as if he could not help himself. If Lil had not interrupted, how far would matters have gone? She hadn’t felt under threat when he kissed her and held her—just strangely excited and curious—but she admitted now that she was an innocent when it came to men like Oliver Montegomery. He could not have become such a famous rake if he were not very good at what he did.

“Is there hope, do you think, Miss Greentree?”

Vivianna began to pull on her gloves with brisk, determined tugs, her eyes alight in anticipation of the battle ahead. “I believe so, ladies. I will let you know as soon as I have any news. Goodbye for now, and do not worry!”

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