Page 14

Entering the house, Madeline located the news sheets and headed to the library for a read. Soon, tea was brought in, and she perused the articles. It was too soon for word of Simon’s betrothal, but she found herself committed to skimming all the headlines despite herself.

She was just finishing her cup when Henri entered.

“Good evening.”

“Oh, excellent! I am in need of a cup.” Her sister walked over to flop onto the settee beside her, then poured out her tea and added milk and sugar.

After testing the temperature, she set her cup down to cool, settling back with a blissful sigh. “Did you hear the frightful news?”

Madeline’s brow puckered. She could hardly claim she did not want to hear the latest on-dits while holding news sheets. Gossip made her weary, and she rarely read them except for the stock and business news. She could not admit to the embarrassing truth that she was scouring the small print for an announcement about Simon Scott and Olivia Boyle.

“Has something of import happened?”

“A baron was found murdered. This morning! He had not visited London in more than twenty years, but he was here for the coronation. All of Westminster is talking about it.”

Madeline squashed a surge of irritation. In her opinion, Henri was far too enamored with the celebrity of Parliament and high society. She supposed it was appropriate. Her sister acted as a social hostess for their great-uncle Reginald, who had been widowed nigh fifteen years ago and displayed no inclination to remarry. It was just that Madeline found it dull. Perhaps exposure to the Scotts next door had made her weary of class distinctions. However, a significant portion of their clients fell into the categories of people her sister and Uncle Reggie dealt with, which had led to orders for Bigsby’s, so she could hardly dissent.

Nevertheless, she needed to consider her idea about the walled garden. She found her peace there, away from the family business and social gossip.

“Which baron?”

“Lord Filminster. They say the coroner suspects that his estranged son did it to hasten his inheritance. They have not spoken in years, but the son resides in their London townhouse.”

Madeline considered this surprising turn of events. A nobleman murdered? Such a heinous act was unheard of.

“Well, then … I hope the heir is guilty or his reputation is being destroyed without cause.”

“I did not think of that. It would be terrible for him if he is innocent.”

Nodding in agreement, Madeline hoped that her sister would reconsider her propensity to gossip. Henri spent far too much of her time with people who were willing to ruin the credibility of their acquaintances for their own entertainment and, perhaps, from hidden envy of the people in question.