Page 13 of Lady Liar (A Series of Senseless Complications #5)

“We would be much happier all together and it’s just too bad some of my sisters didn’t think of that in time.” Valor allowed her condemning gaze to touch on Mr. Stratton, Lord Stanford, and Lord Thorpe.

“We are all very happy, though, Val,” Felicity said, laughing.

“You have to say that,” Valor said, leveling her gaze at Mr. Stratton. “He’s sitting right there. I only leave you with my hints for happiness, with our Papa, forever.”

Valor curtsied.

“Well! Rousing speech, as always,” the duke said.

“It must be hard to be the youngest of the sisters, losing them one by one,” Lord Wembly said.

“It is,” Valor answered. “Maybe you want to help me out!”

Lord Wembly did not answer and Verity felt as if she would like to sink through the floor. Valor had all but hinted that Lord Wembly had an interest in her, though Lord Wembly had not hinted it yet.

He would, though, would he not? They could not stop staring at one another in the drawing room. Certainly that meant something.

“Lord Wembly,” Winsome said, “we could hardly drag Verity out of the library today. She gets so engrossed with her learning. About the slow-moving animals.”

Lady Pegatha’s head snapped up from her soup. “Really?” she said, looking very surprised to hear it.

Lord Wembly had turned to Verity. This was the moment to prove she actually knew something about the lord’s research, and then gracefully exit it, never to be spoken of again. “Indeed,” she said, “I found Mr. Carlisle’s observations regarding the circulatory system particularly illuminating.”

“Oh, I see,” Lord Wembly said. “Well, yes, of course, the dissection of the monkey did provide some valuable foundational information.”

A loud clatter interrupted him. Serenity had dropped her spoon. “Dissection?” she cried. “Of a monkey?”

Lord Wembly looked entirely startled. “Uh…no, no, it was, hmm, what is it called? Ah, predictive research. Meaning, what would be the result if he had. Done anything. Which he did not.”

Verity and Winsome stared at one another, as they both knew the truth of it. She must admit, Lord Wembly was very astute to so quickly recover what might have been a festival of tears. He was very kind to do it, too.

Serenity wiped a tear from her cheek. “Goodness, you frightened me.”

Lord Thorpe stared grimly at Lord Wembly, no doubt displeased that his wife had been frightened.

“You see?” Valor said, apropos of nothing.

“So you are researching the matter, Lady Verity?” Lady Pegatha asked with a raised brow.

Here was her moment to back herself out of this ridiculous situation. Verity said, “I was, but I’ve decided to leave it behind. For now, at least.”

“Ah, I see,” Lady Pegatha said, “no doubt some other subject has captured your attention.”

Verity nodded gratefully. “Indeed.”

“What is it, pray?” Lady Pegatha asked.

What is it? It was nothing. Why was Lady Pegatha asking what it was?

Why had she not thought she’d have to come up with some new interest?

She’d briefly considered that she might say she was netting purses instead, but that was ridiculous.

One did not replace scientific research with netting purses!

Verity felt her thoughts begin to spin. The prickly feeling she sometimes felt on her arms and face rushed over her.

“She won’t say,” Winsome said, attempting to throw her drowning sister a life ring, “but we’re sure it’s very…scientific.”

“Oh, come now,” Lady Pegatha said, “we must know.”

Verity’s thinking had gone blind, it was doing nothing at all. What interest, what interest, what interest?

“I hope it’s more interesting than whatever that other thing was,” Valor said.

Her other sisters were staring at her in alarm.

Particularly Patience and Serenity, who knew very well that she’d invented the first interest and now she was to have a second.

Even Felicity looked wide-eyed, as she had perhaps heard some of Verity’s ideas in the past that were not quite right. Or true.

“Lady Verity?” Lord Wembly said, looking curiously at her.

Thomas had come round with a platter of whole broiled cod. She stared down at their dead glassy eyes and felt her own eyes go glassy.

“Well, as one might imagine, I’m looking into the ability of fish to see when out of water. Rather, if they can,” she said.

What had she said? What had she done?

Again.

“Well now,” the duke said, “that explains all that hanging around the lake in the Dales. My advice, keep it all to yourself for now, in these early stages. Wouldn’t want to come to any wrong conclusions by rushing the thing.”

Dear Papa. Of course he would come to the rescue. She would keep it to herself. Forever, if she could manage it.

*

Henry was entirely confounded. What was he meant to think? Lady Verity was looking into the parameters of a fish’s eyesight out of water? What on earth was he to make of it?

On the one hand, when Lady Verity had entered the drawing room, he’d had to steady himself a bit. She was so striking looking, and he was so attracted to her. She was perfection. He’d really been a little bit breathless.

He had expected that the duke’s household would land on the eccentric side of things.

After all, His Grace had been in Town for four prior seasons and word did get around.

He was not even that surprised to encounter a youngest sister practically knocking him out of the way to show off her dog to his aunt.

He was rather surprised at the tacked-up wallcovering of some sort of Indian scene and the very odd American butler who’d seemed to be at the bottom of it.

All of that, though, would have been nothing. He knew very well that his Aunt Pegatha had been teasing when she’d inquired into Lady Verity’s studies. His aunt could not resist it when Lady Winsome had claimed her sister had been in the library all day, deep in study.

The strange part was, she must have looked into it at least a little bit.

She’d mentioned that letter between Carlisle and Symmons from years ago.

It was what had piqued his interest in the subject of circulatory systems in the first place.

Had she been investigating the matter? Or had she lied about it and then scrambled to find something on the subject?

And then she claimed she’d given it up to investigate if fish could see out of water. How would a lady go about doing those experiments?

Perhaps it was just an idea, and she would soon enough encounter the impracticalities of it.

Was she a lady interested in scientific pursuits, or was she a complete fibber, as his aunt believed?

The conversation had gone on to more usual topics, led by Lady Felicity and Mr. Stratton. Those two seemed determined to steer far away from any conversation around science.

Mr. Stratton said, “Wembly, I don’t know how familiar you are with Dales ponies, but the duke’s daughters all ride them—they are something to see.”

He’d turned to Lady Verity. “Are you fond of riding?”

“Yes, goodness, we all are,” Lady Verity said. “Except Valor.”

“I’m fond of going slowly, that’s all,” Valor said.

“Perhaps we might meet in the park for a ride,” he said, “assuming the duke’s permission.”

“I’ll tell you what, Wembly,” the duke said, “Verity and Winsome can ride with the grooms and I’ll bring Valor and Mrs. Right in the carriage. How is Monday at four?”

“Excellent, yes,” Henry said. Though, he had not the first idea of who Mrs. Right was.

“And Sir Galahad,” Valor said.

“Why not?” the duke said. “Now, what say you, sons-in-laws of mine? Were you planning to warn Wembly about what he could expect in the drawing room? A game with tickets, perhaps?”

Henry did not know what game the duke referred to, but he was not encouraged by the three gentlemen’s expressions.

“Fact or Fib!” Lady Valor shouted.

“Fact or Fib?” Henry asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Lord Stanford said. “We’ll bring the brandy and port in to make it easier.”

Make it easier? Make what easier? He’d never heard of the game. Was it something peculiar to the Dales?

“Sorry,” Mr. Stratton muttered.

Lord Thorpe shrugged. “It can’t be helped.”

Henry did not at all understand what they meant by it. The gentlemen were all looking very down about it, but then their wives seemed to think it terrific.

“You’ll love it,” Lady Winsome said.

“A very hopeful prediction,” the duke said, laughing. “Well, let’s get on with it. Klondoom, Klondike, whatever your name is, take the bottles and glasses into the drawing room. And Lady Pegatha, might I interest you in a sherry?”

“You find me very interested, indeed,” Lady Pegatha said. “What a delightful idea.”

“Lady Pegatha,” Lady Valor said, “you can sit next to me and pet Sir Galahad. I always get along with old women. Ask anybody.”

Henry’s brows raised the slightest bit, not entirely certain how gratified his aunt would be to be named an old woman.

Thankfully, she laughed.

As the duke rose, his butler said, “A quick word to the party, Your Grace.”

The butler was going to have a quick word with them? How extraordinary.

“I could not help earlier overhearing talk of a scientific nature,” the butler said, soldiering on despite the duke’s frown, “and, as an American, I thought I might weigh in. Our deceased and revered American citizen, Mr. Benjamin Franklin, invented electricity—”

The duke held his hand up. “He did not invent it, he noticed it, as anybody who’s ever looked up in a thunderstorm has done since time began. What I notice is that you do not yet have those bottles and glasses in hand.”

The butler looked entirely startled to be interrupted.

“And after those duties are accomplished,” the duke said, “get that absurd wallcovering down.”

“The maharajahs?” the butler asked, looking entirely perplexed over why anybody would wish to have them removed.

The duke did not bother to answer, and Henry supposed that was a duke’s prerogative. He’d given an order and did not expect a debate about it.

As the duke led the party across the great hall, Lady Winsome hooked her thumb back at the butler. To Henry, she said quietly, “Another one of Lady Marchfield’s butlers. He won’t be here long. Mrs. Right will get rid of him.”