Page 59 of A Conspiracy in Belgravia

Love,

Livia

P.S. Mr. Finch has taken rooms at Mrs. Woods’s residential hotel for gentlemen, on Fountain Lane.

P.P.S. Mrs. Montrose’s ball is tonight. After that, only Lord and Lady Ingram’s ball to go before we leave London. I have had more than enough of the Season, but I do not know how I shall bear eight months without you.

Livia sat at the edge of a group of other wallflowers, hating everything about the evening.

Everything about her life.

She had somehow managed to pen the letter she owed to Charlotte. But what purgatory, having to set down the events of that calamitous day, her skin scalding with mortification, her stomach contorting in nausea and disgust.

Her own brother! She had fallen in love withher own brother. And the worst thing was, whenever she thought of him, before the tsunami of dismay crested, she still felt that same sense of hope and excitement.

Which only made everything twice as repugnant.

“Miss Holmes? Miss Olivia Holmes?”

A young woman with a pretty, amiable face stood before Livia.

“Y-yes?” said Livia uncertainly.

“Of course it is you. How good to see you again! Do let us find somewhere quieter to talk—so unspeakably loud in here, isn’t it?”

Without waiting for Livia to respond, the young woman took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Livia, disoriented but not wanting to make a scene, let the young woman link their arms together and lead her away from the other wallflowers.

The young woman leaned in close. “I’m a messenger from Miss Charlotte. She needs to see you. Will you come outside with me?”

Alarm trilled through Livia. “Is she all right?”

“Yes, she’s fine. But she has questions for you after receiving your letter,” answered the young woman. “And I’m Penelope Redmayne, by the way, Mrs. Watson’s niece.”

“R-right. Enchanted.”

Livia could only hope that her unrequited and—Dear God!—incestuous love for Mr. Finch didn’t somehow announce itself loud and clear in the letter. It was terrifying, at times, to have a sister like Charlotte.

The streets outside Mrs. Montrose’s house were crowded with carriages. They walked some distance before reaching the one that contained Charlotte.

“I’ll be quick—we must get you back before Mamma notices that you are missing,” said Charlotte, once Livia had taken a seat.

Lady Holmes was an inconsistent chaperone. Sometimes she was far too concerned with her own amusement to keep an eye on her daughters. Other times, perhaps to expiate her guilt, she watched them like a hawk. Tonight she seemed awake enough, so there was no telling which kind of chaperone she would turn out to be.

“You said you were near the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens when you met Lady Avery and Lady Somersby. Where exactly were you with regard to the Round Pond?”

What did that have to do with anything? “On the east side.”

“Where the pond meets that grassy avenue?”

“Yes.” The grassy avenue extended all the way to the Long Water, the man-made lake that was half in Kensington Gardens and half in Hyde Park.

“Which way did you stand?”

“Facing the water, of course.”

“And where did Lady Ingram come from?”

“South of us. The children’s governess was carrying a toy boat, so probably they had been playing with it in the pond earlier.”