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He, Zachary, and Sebastian had all had good relationships with their fathers, unlike the others. In fact, Drake and his father had been particularly close, even more so than Zachary or Sebastian, constantly working side by side and often with their fingers in one project or another.

“Do you ever worry that someone in your employ is working for the… the conspiracy?” They had not really given a name to those responsible for the murders, so calling them the conspiracy was the best description at the moment.

“Of course.” Drake blinked, then glanced at Sebastian with a frown. “You did not?”

“Not until today,” he admitted. “I think I did not want to think such a thing.”

“Understandable if naïve.”

“I cannot think of a reason why someone would want to kill my father.” Sebastian shook his head. “With the old Clarence, the old St. Albans, it makes sense. Hereford, too.” Nathanial’s father had been a reprobate. A profligate gambler with debts that were sky high and no means of paying them back, which was why it was so very lucky that Nathanial had ended up married to the richest heiress in the ton. “Christian’s father was also a hard man. But my father? Zachary’s? Yours? What reason could anyone have to kill them?”

Drake shrugged, though his face remained troubled. After a long moment, he sighed.

“St. Albans, Hereford, Clarence… they did terrible things because they took their wealth and power for granted. Because they could. You are assuming that doing something wrong is the only motivation for murder… but what if our fathers were murdered for doing something right?” Drake raised his eyebrow, the suggestion leaving Sebastian flummoxed.

What if his father had been murdered, not because he’d done something terrible, but because he’d crossed someone who was?

Mei

A day to get her head on straight was exactly what Mei had needed.

With the household empty but for a few of the older guests, herself, and Rose, Mei had plenty of time to think. Either being alone or the willow bark tea had done the job of clearing her headache, which helped as well. She’d even fallen back asleep for a bit after eating and drinking the tea, which might have had the biggest effect.

Once she was up and dressed, she spent the day wandering through the house. It was very rare that she was afforded such opportunities to explore on her own and take as much time as she wanted. There were a number of pieces of artwork that were well worth stopping and taking the time to examine.

The family portrait gallery made her smile, mostly because it was so clear which relative each aspect of Gregory’s looks had come from. His ears from his great-grandfather, his nose from his grandmother, his jawline from his great-great-great-grandfather… all the way down to his father, who he looked very little like at all, other than the coloring. Mei tilted her head, examining the old Duke of Clarence, about who she’d heard very little that was good.

Still. The way he’d died had been an awful way to go. Had he deserved it?

That was not for her to say.

The portrait of his wife looked nothing at all like the Dowager Duchess as Mei knew her. It was drab and dark, the woman pictured as pale and serious.

“I loathe that portrait.”

The voice from behind Mei made her jump, and she turned to see the woman herself. Older than when she’d been painted, and the features were the same, but the dowager was smiling, and her bright clothing was the opposite of what was portrayed in the painting. Today, she was wearing a heavily ruffled dress of bright pinks and yellows that did not suit her petite frame at all, yet she was beaming so brightly that she might as well have been made of sunshine.

Mei smiled back at her and dipped into a deep curtsy.

“Your Grace.”

The dowager tilted her head back to examine the painting Mei had been looking at.

“Gregory says I may sit for a new one and hang it here, which I fully intend to do. I think I shall commission a new dress for it, too. Something eye-wateringly bright.” She beamed at Mei’s laughter.

“I think that would be entirely appropriate,” Mei agreed warmly. “I suppose Tiffany and Gregory are planning for their portraits to be done soon.”

“Oh, yes. Likely wearing blue.” The dowager smiled.

“Tiffany looks very pretty in blue.”

“She does indeed. As you look very pretty in green.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Are you enjoying the house party?” the dowager asked.

“I am, very much. It is unfortunate I was not feeling well enough to join the others this morning, but I have enjoyed the opportunity to explore the house.”