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She had imagined London as a place where a lady could do what she liked—but Drake was right.

Beatrice was still bound by her old nemesis decorum; she had to wear a ridiculous disguise to even leave the house today.

Why, though, would he not work within her restrictions?

Or help her bypass them? Did Drake not value her partnership enough to make such efforts?

Trying to push away these particular concerns, she snatched the newspaper Drake was holding.

“Careful!” he yelped.

It was a very old edition of The London Babbler, its pages soft from age. Drake had turned to the society section, and Beatrice skimmed the article he had been perusing.

New Club Courts Success

Mrs. DV cut a fashionable figure last night when she introduced her debutantes.

“This is about Diana Vane,” Beatrice surmised. She read on, intrigued to learn more about the past of the mysterious silver-haired patroness.

This marks DV’s first Season as patroness at the Rose, an assembly hall quickly becoming notable for its exclusivity and mystery.

Few know what goes on behind the Rose’s imposing iron gates, but everyone wants the chance to find out. Mr. and Mrs. V met during a Season there, and their marriage is a model of success which other young ladies and gentlemen might emulate.

Though Mrs. V is young for a patroness, her appointment makes sense: She and Mr. V purchased the Rose early in their marriage and have been instrumental in guiding its rise.

Without the fashionable Mrs. V, or the wealthy Mr. V, the Rose would be just another wildflower along the path.

Yet under their guidance, it has bloomed into the rarest blossom in the garden.

With Mr. V’s fortune and good name—as well as his ties to Mr. CN and Mr. WS, two other well-bred gentlemen—this reporter is certain that the Rose will continue to flourish.

Yet what of Mrs. V? She had her own fortune before marrying Mr. V, that is true, but those who keep up to date on the society papers may recall that she made quite a splash when she first entered the social scene. Salons, cigars, and a rumored dalliance with a poet…ohmy!

One must admit, Mrs. V has an eye for fashion and design, as evidenced by the interior of the Rose. Those who are lucky enough to glimpse it will note its Grecian design, a stylish tribute to ancient mythology. And her clothes never disappoint; Mrs. V is always the best-dressed at any ball.

If this were not enough to recommend her, everyone has only to look to Mr. V.

He wholeheartedly supports his wife, though she has a past reputation as a bluestocking.

Readers can rest assured that her hose have been bleached by an advantageous marriage—even if she is still seen sneaking a cigar now and again.

“What is a bluestocking?” Beatrice asked, once she had finished reading.

“It is a nickname for learned ladies,” Drake explained. “Women who support the arts, education, and the like. They sometimes host salons to discuss their interests.”

“I wish I could go to one of those instead of all these balls!” Beatrice exclaimed.

“As you can imagine, some gentlemen do not approve of such gatherings,” Drake informed her.

“Hm.” She considered. “So Mrs. Vane has always been involved with the artistic community. And she had a suitor before marrying Mr. Vane…. A poet, no less…”

This would surely have been a scandal—if it were true. Society pages often printed rumors, Beatrice knew.

But still. The idea was intriguing.

“There is something else that is interesting,” Drake told her. He turned the paper over, where an advertisement had been printed.

“?‘Mrs. V’s Selection,’?” Beatrice read aloud. “?‘Recommended by Mrs. V herself, this sculpture—by sisters Lady Budrovich and Lady Budrovich—elevates any sitting room, lounge, or parlor.’?”

Below the description was a drawing of a statue featuring a squirrel. Its base was octagonal—just like the shape left behind in the dust at the Rose.

“The murder weapon!” Beatrice gasped.

“Not necessarily,” Drake said, “but yes, this could be the sculpture which was used to smash Walter Shrewsbury’s face.”

“Death by squirrel. How tragic,” Beatrice said sadly.

“Yes, but more important, how expensive,” Drake told her. “I have seen these types of sculptures before. They are worth a great deal.”

“You think that the killer decided to steal the statue and sell it,” Beatrice surmised.

“It is a theory, but we have little to go off at the moment, so it is worth investigating,” Drake said, nodding. “I know of a nearby pawnshop. If my theory is correct, we may find the murder weapon there. We could go now.”

“I am honored to have received an invitation,” Beatrice told him curtly.

He rolled his eye but gave no further remarks.

Before they left the bookstore, Beatrice stopped at the cashier. She had Drake use office funds to purchase the old edition of the Babbler (and a few books from the disturbing display—for research purposes, of course).

There was something about the story of Mr. and Mrs. Vane that made her feel uneasy. She did not know what, yet—but she was determined to find out.