Lavinia smiled. “May I take that comment to mean that you have decided that your new connection to Lord Vale does not dishonor your old love for your husband?”

“You may.” Joan cut another slice of ham with a resolute motion of her hand. “I gave your comments on the subject a great deal of close thought and I am certain of my heart. I have told Maryanne as much. It may take her some time to accept the situation, but I hope that eventually she will come to understand that I cannot live shrouded in the past. Nor would Fielding have wanted me to do so.”

“She will come around in time. She is still very young.”

“Yes, I know.” Joan chewed delicately and swallowed. “Do you think that we were ever so young and innocent? I cannot remember She stopped, eyes narrowing faintly. “Ah, here they come at last. I was beginning to fear that they had changed their plans for the evening.”

“Lady Huxford and Lady Ferring?”

“Yes. This is perfect. They are being shown to the table directly behind you, just as I requested.”

The request had been honored, Lavinia thought, because Joan had tipped handsomely to ensure that outcome. She resisted the urge to turn around in her seat.

“Lady Huxford has noticed me,” Joan murmured. She smiled coolly at a point just past Lavinia’s right shoulder and raised her voice slightly. “Lady Huxford, Lady Ferring. How lovely to see you here this evening.”

“Mrs. Dove.” The first voice was brittle and sharp.

“Mrs. Dove.” The second voice was raspy and rather hoarse.

“Allow me to introduce my very good friend, Mrs. Lake,” Joan said.

Lavinia forced herself to take her time. She turned slowly in her seat and, following Joan’s lead, inclined her head ever so slightly.

Her first thought was that she had made a terrible mistake.

Remorse swept through her. Surely neither of these two women teetering on canes was capable of commissioning a cold-blooded murder.

Lady Huxford was frail and nearly as thin as the slice of ham on Joan’s plate. Lady Ferring appeared sturdier, but it was clear that in her younger days she had probably been several inches taller. Her shoulders were now bent and rounded.

Lavinia’s pang of guilt faded when she found herself meeting two pairs of eyes that glinted with the undimmed fires of strong, forceful personalities. The chilly arrogance in those gazes spoke of long lives spent manipulating events and people to obtain their own ends. Their bodies might have succumbed to the weight of the years, but there was nothing wrong with either Lady Huxford’s or Lady Ferring’s mental faculties, Lavinia thought.

Or with their sense of style either, she noticed. Lady Huxford’s bronze gown was trimmed with yellow ribbons. Lady Ferring was garbed in an expensively cut dress of heavy rose silk. Both wore high, stiffly pleated lace ruffs, no doubt designed to conceal wrinkles and loose skin at the throat.

“Each wore a fetching little hat too. The charming confections were perched jauntily atop great quantities of silver-gray hair piled and curled into elaborate coiffeurs. Wigs, Lavinia thought. The false hair was fashionably arranged with a great deal of frizzing on top to add height. She could not see the back of the ladies’ heads from this angle, but she had a hunch the chignons were equally elaborate.

“Lady Huxford,” Lavinia said very casually, “please allow me to extend my condolences on your recent loss.”

Lady Huxford raised her lorgnette and squinted at Lavinia.

“What loss? I haven’t lost anyone of note since his lordship died fourteen years ago.”

“I refer to the untimely death of your granddaughter’s fiance, Lord Fullerton,” Lavinia said. “I’m certain her parents must be devastated. Such an excellent match.”

“They will soon make another one that is far more advantageous.”

Lady Huxford lowered the eyeglass.

Lavinia turned to Lady Huxford’s companion. “Speaking of canceled engagements, I collect that your grandson no longer intends to make an offer for the hand of Lady Rowland’s eldest granddaughter. What a pity. It seemed like such a fine alliance.

“Everyone thought that your grandson’s title went quite nicely with the girl’s inheritance.”

Lady Ferring’s expression closed like a heavy door swinging shut.

“But I suppose the financial aspects of the situation changed when Lady Rowland died so unexpectedly,” Lavinia continued smoothly. The timing of her death was most unfortunate, was it not?

“The on dit is that she succumbed before she got around to changing her will to endow the eldest girl. Her papa controls the money now, and they say he intends to divide the inheritance among all seven of his daughters.”

“Fate works in mysterious ways,” Lady Ferring observed.

“Indeed, it does,” Lavinia said. She turned back to Lady Huxford.

“Why, as fate would have it, I was at Beaumont Castle the night Lord Fullerton fell to his death.”

She could have sworn that Lady Huxford flinched a little at that news. But the woman recovered quickly.

“Any number of people were there that night, according to what I heard,” she said in her shards-of-glass voice. “Beaumont’s country house parties are always absolute crushes.”

“Yes, there certainly were a great many people present,” Lavinia agreed. “But I was evidently one of the last to see Lord Fullerton alive. Can you believe it? He passed me in the hall shortly before his fall.”

Lady Huxford regarded her in stony silence.

“I’ve no doubt but that he was in his cups,” Lady Ferring rasped.

“The man drank like a fish.”

“He did, indeed, appear intoxicated.” Lavinia made a tut-tutting sound. “I regret to say that when I saw him, he was in the company of a young maid.”

“Men will be men.” Lady Huxford’s eyes glittered with disdain. “It is hardly a matter to be discussed in polite company.”

“Well, in this case, it is an important observation,” Lavinia said just as coldly. You see, my associate, Mr. March, and I have been asked to look into the matter of Lord Fullerton’s death. It is our opinion that he was murdered and that the maid was actually the killer in disguise.”

Lady Huxford’s jaw dropped quite visibly. “Murder. What are you talking about? There has been no hint of murder.”

“On the contrary,” Lavinia murmured. “There has been more than a hint of foul play. In fact, it is safe to say that the villain made some mistakes this time.”

“This time?” Lady Ferring bridled. “Are you implying that there have been other murders?”

“Oh, yes, indeed. We are quite suspicious about Lady Rowland’s demise, as a matter of fact.”

“Heard it was an overdose of sleeping tonic,” Lady Ferring gritted.

“No one said anything about murder.”

Lady Huxford’s face tightened with outrage. “I cannot understand why anyone would ask you to look into the matter.”

“Don’t you know?” Joan said with an air of surprise. “Mrs. Lake and her associate, Mr. March, are in the private-inquiry profession. They take commissions from persons who wish them to discover the true facts of certain suspicious matters such as these recent deaths.”

“Private inquiries?” Lady Ferring glowered at Lavinia. “What an absurd notion. Hardly a fitting career for a lady.”

Lady Huxford’s eyes glittered with near-feverish intensity. “Who gave you this ridiculous commission to investigate Fullerton’s death? Never heard that anyone in the family was concerned.”

“Oh, I could not possibly divulge the name of our client,” Lavinia said. I’m sure you can understand. Mr. March and I work only for the most exclusive sort of clientele, and persons of quality demand great discretion. But I can assure you that my associate and I are making excellent progress in our investigations. When we identify the killer, I’m sure we will also discover who employed him.”

“Outrageous,” Lady Huxford muttered. “Absolutely outrageous.