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Heywood shook his head. “I don’t know. She had me take her to Bruton Street, gave me directions on what she wanted done with the girl, and went into the modistes. I didn’t stand around to watch.”

“Do you think she’s still on Bruton Street?” Kalina asked, though her question was directed at the others in the room, not at Heywood. The frown on her face was echoed in everyone else’s expressions.

“No.” Sebastian shook his head. “She said she was going to be gone for awhile. She had some end goal in mind.” He glanced at Drake, who rolled his shoulders back.

“Alright then, I think that’s it,” Drake said, nodding and beginning to move toward Heywood.

“No, wait.” Sebastian stepped forward, his hand flying up in front of him, gesturing for Drake to stop. He looked at Heywood. “Do you know what happened to Harleen, my mother’s lady’s maid, who went with her to the Grange?”

Heywood ducked his head, his gaze returning to the ground.

“I don’t know for sure, Your Grace, but Her Grace had me fetch her a tincture of oleander from a local apothecary the day before Harleen’s death.” Despite Heywood’s claim not to know for sure, it was clear what he thought the oleander had been used for.

Sebastian’s heart sank. His mother was a murderess several times over. He could only assume that Harleen had begun to suspect something and perhaps was unwise enough to say something or do something about her suspicions to his mother. Pain lanced through him all over again, and he looked at Tiffany, who appeared even more distraught at this news.

She looked back at him, eyes full of grief, and he felt a tear slide down his own cheek. Clenching his jaw, he reached up to swipe it away. Mei’s arm tightened around his waist again, and he returned the favor, holding her as closely to him as he could. As carefully as he could, that was, considering her injuries. Not that she was shy about burying her face into his shoulder.

“Alright.” Drake let out a long breath of air. He looked around the room, but no one stopped him. Sebastian shook his head. He was done. “Come on, Heywood.”

Nodding, Heywood’s head dropped again, and he followed Drake out the door, shuffling along due to the ropes around his legs. They might not have been necessary as the man appeared utterly defeated.

Sebastian felt very much the same way.

Mei

Sebastian rang for drinks and a bit of sustenance for all of them. They were all shaken. Though the housekeeper brought tea, which several of the ladies accepted, Mei saw Astrid tip some of the cognac into her teacup. She could not blame her.

They had not finished the first cup before the authorities showed up to take Aaron Heywood and Peter Breth. Her attackers. One which made her almost sympathetic, the other which was a blight on society. Breth had gone, spitting hate and bile the whole way. The ladies had heard him all the way in the drawing room, where they’d been waiting for the men to return, after agreeing not to be in the foyer when the prisoners were brought through. Astrid had huffed over it, but ultimately acquiesced when Mei quietly asked her to stay in.

One look at Mei’s swollen face, and Astrid could hardly say no.

At the beginning of supper, everyone kept to lighter topics as if by unspoken agreement. The success of the house party and what a good pairing Lord Owen and Miss Fenley made. Whether or not Northumberland would propose to Lady Isabella soon and what her answer might be. The difference in weather between London and the countryside.

It was Tiffany who finally broke the embargo on the topic after dessert had been served and the servants had cleared the dining room.

“I think she must be with her lover,” Tiffany said. “My mother, I mean,” she added when everyone turned to look at her.

“Who is…” Astrid’s voice trailed off, leaving the question open.

“I do not know.” Tiffany shook her head and looked at Sebastian, who tensed beside Mei. “Do you?”

“Certainly not.” Sebastian shuddered. “I do suspect she has one, though.”

Tiffany stared at him for a long moment. “She has had one for a long time. Since before father’s death. At least, I believe it is the same one.”

“Should there not be some gossip about it, then?” Johanna asked, frowning. “I know I am newer to Society, but there seems to be gossip about everyone and everything.”

“Not that I ever heard,” Astrid said slowly, which was quite a feat, since Astrid usually knew everything about everyone. And what she did not know, Mei did. Astrid looked over at Mei, and Mei shook her head.

She had not heard anything about the Duchess of Bolton having a lover, either. Their level of discretion must be unheard of.

“Are you sure she has one, then?” Zachary asked, frowning as he leaned forward, reaching up to hand Monkey Sinclair a grape. The monkey took it in his paws and began to nibble on one end, big eyes watching the conversation almost as if he understood.

“I am sure. I have heard him,” Tiffany replied, her voice only a little clipped at being questioned. “Though I have never seen him. He would come, sometimes, after I was supposed to be in bed.”

“Do you think he knows?” Matthew frowned, rubbing his hand over the front pocket of his waistcoat. “What she’d done, I mean. Do you think he knows?”

“That’s impossible to tell at this juncture.” Nathanial raised his eyebrows at Matthew. “All we could do is speculate.”