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“I’ll admit that I’ve led a sheltered life and I haven’t fully broken out of my shell yet. I’m like a sketch done in charcoal right now, and I want to fill in the rich hues.”
“The scarlet gowns. The amber brandies.”
A smile lifted her lips. “I filled in a few colors last night along the dark walks of Vauxhall. I learned quite a bit about... fireworks.”
No more fireworks. “I brought you more books to try,” he said abruptly, setting the stack of books he held on the table near her. “These all had markers placed in their pages, or writing in the margins. Are you having any luck with the diary?”
“Not really. We must find the key—the text Lord Rafe used to create the cipher. I can’t remember if there were any books inthat room? I was too distracted by other things to notice.”
“There weren’t any books there,” he said hastily. Erotic play-chambers were definitely off-limits from here on out. “I’ll help you when I come back this afternoon. Where is Beatrice?” Now that he’d delivered the money to the extortionist and received no other threats, he wasn’t as concerned for her safety, but caution was still advisable.
“Reading in bed, where else? I promised that I would go with her to this meeting of lady knitters at the Duchess of Ravenwood’s private house. I wish the duchess were going to be there but she’s on an archaeological expedition—I’ve always wanted to meet her.”
“I think you and she would be fast friends.”
“You’ve met her?”
“I attended one of her antiquities exhibitions once, many years ago. Take my manservant, Corbyn, with you when you go out. And when you meet Beatrice’s new friends, see if any of them strike you as the sinister type.”
“The lady knitters?”
“One never knows the nefarious machinations of a knitter’s mind.”
She smiled. “Perhaps after the lady’s society meeting I could join you. Or we could sneak out of the house at night together? I could finally have an occasion to wear my red silk dress.” At his silent—and truth-be-told terrified—look, she shrugged. “I didn’t think so. Well, promise me that you’ll observe MissLachance carefully.”
“I will.”
“Do you want to borrow my pistol?”
“I have my own. A matched pair of engraved and gilded flintlock dueling pistols by Manton,” he said.
“Manton’s craftsmanship is superlative. I’ve always wanted to visit his workshop.”
“Why do you know so much about weaponry?”
“Oh, it’s just a hobby of mine. We’ll reconvene later today then.”
He had his marching orders: Find Rafe’s fiancée, help Mina crack the coded diary, locate Rafe, and ensure Beatrice was safe.
As he left he added another item to the list: do not, on any account, abandon all control and fall madly in love with Miss Wilhelmina Penny.
“This is the Duchess of Ravenwood’s former home, which she’s currently letting for a song to her good friend MissViola Beaton,” explained Beatrice as she and Mina exited the carriage.
Drew’s manservant, Corbyn, an unsmiling, towering older man with gray-streaked black hair and wary brown eyes, watched them until they entered the building.
Mina and Beatrice were ushered into a cozy sitting room by a fresh-faced young maid.
“The duchess is still in Egypt, isn’t she?” asked Mina.
“She won’t be back for at least six months,” Beatrice confirmed.
There were knitting baskets, one beside each of the gathered ladies, piled high with colorful balls of yarn and gleaming knitting needles, and several half-finished blankets, hats, and sweaters were draped over chair backs.
Something was odd about all of this.
Mina knew a lot about the Duchess of Ravenwood, enough to know that she wasn’t known for knitting. She was an infamous archaeologist known for dressing in male clothing and for convincing the Duke of Ravenwood to abandon his rakish ways and settle into matrimony.
She also knew the inside story—that the duchess had also convinced him to give up his career as Uncle Malcolm’s best and most brutal secret agent. Apparently, these days Ravenwood accompanied his wife on her archaeological expeditions.
