Page 17 of Murder in Matrimony (A Lady of Letters Mystery #4)

TWELVE

Dear Lady Agony,

A new bonnet with false gemstones is gaining popularity. At first, I thought it surprising and a bit garish, but now I’m not so sure. It might be pretty. What is your opinion on the hat?

Devotedly,

Shiny and New

Dear Shiny and New,

Personally, I have no use for a hat with false gemstones. I agree with the adage “Beauty unadorned is adorned the most.” Simplicity can do no wrong; false gemstones, however, can do a good deal. My advice is to keep your distance from the new bonnet.

Yours in Secret,

Lady Agony

The next day, Amelia jotted off a note to Isaac Jakeman, inquiring about Milly Hines.

Then she dove into readers’ letters. She sorted them into piles: relationship advice, household advice, health advice, and social advice.

Some days she wore many hats—and wrote about many hats—but topics of regularity were getting easier to respond to.

For instance, the more times she told women to forget obsessing about men, the easier it became.

Other topics, like household chores, remained a mystery to her.

She understood their necessity, yes. She, like most people, did not enjoy living in disarray.

But the extent of questions on how and how often baffled her.

As long as the house looked reasonably presentable, what did it matter?

More important to her were the people inside the household.

If they were as well taken care of as the chores, lives would be happier indeed—but perhaps letters to her less frequent.

When Jones told her Lord Drake was waiting in the drawing room, she was surprised to find it was already late morning.

She had been answering letters for hours.

She stretched as she stood from her desk, noticing her hands were dotted with ink.

She wiped them off the best she could and then went up the flight of stairs, where Lord Drake stood at the window of her drawing room with some sort of magazine tucked under his arm.

Lord Drake turned around, and she noted he was dressed impeccably, as always. He wore a bright yellow waistcoat that showed off the cut of his well-tailored frock coat and cream-colored cravat. But his brown eyes were lined with concern, and his infamous dimple was nowhere to be seen. “Lord Drake.”

“I apologize for the odd hour, Lady Amesbury. Thank you for agreeing to see me.” His tone was tense, and he swallowed nervously. “I need to talk to you.”

“Of course. Please, sit down.”

Lord Drake sat on the chintz chair across from her, looking very unlike the notorious rake he was known to be.

Amelia knew his reputation primarily kept the hungry mamas at bay, for his real interest was for a man in Cornwall.

Lord Drake’s father was ill, and Lord Drake was the sole heir to a prestigious dukedom that was centuries old, not to mention a residence in Cornwall that was famed for its size and history.

However, Amelia knew how costly the entailment was and the lengths to which Lord Drake had gone to keep his dying father comfortable in their home.

He had resorted to stealing jewelry from the wealthy in Mayfair with the idea of dismantling and selling it.

She had found out his identity mere weeks ago when he had taken—and returned—the famed Amesbury diamond. Since then, they’d become fast friends.

“My crime has been discovered.” Lord Drake spread the magazine onto his lap, pointing to a column in the left-hand corner.

“This person says my identity is known with some certainty by a Lady Agony, and she must reveal my name immediately.” He shook his head.

“Do you know this Lady Agony? I must admit I’m out of touch with London gossip. ”

This was the difficult part of her job, lying to people she cared about.

Not lying, she rationalized. Just not telling the entire truth.

Of course Lord Drake was out of touch with London gossip.

He’d spent most of his time in Cornwall with his ill father.

It wouldn’t take him long, however, to make the connection if he stayed in Mayfair.

She knew his identity; Lady Agony knew his identity.

With consideration, he might surmise they were one in the same person.

“I do know of Lady Agony, yes. I follow her letters.”

“And does she know who I am?” asked Lord Drake.

“She purports to.” Amelia pointed to the paper on his lap. “May I?”

“Certainly.”

She scanned the column, then flipped to the freshly printed front cover of an admired woman’s domestic magazine.

It was wildly popular for its editor, who was the gold standard of advice on domestic details, which is why Amelia was stunned to see a response to A Concerned Citizen in the column.

Amelia would think the author was too busy with household hints to respond to crime.

However, the authoress seemed quite invested and even agreed with A Concerned Citizen.

Certainly, if a thief’s name is known, it should be given to the Metropolitan Police.

Any law-abiding citizen would agree, which suggested Lady Agony herself was not law abiding.

Insulting! The authoress demanded Lady Agony reveal the name immediately.

Anything else was an obstruction of the law.

Lord Drake wagged a finger at the paper. “It seems to me they are trying to force her hand, even going so far as to suggest her interference with justice. I do not want any ill will to come to this woman. If she indeed knows my secret, she deserves my thanks for keeping it.”

Amelia smiled. The longer she knew Lord Drake, the more she liked him. His first thought wasn’t for his crime or subsequent punishment but for a stranger. “If this person knew your or Lady Agony’s identity, would they not take their complaints to the Metropolitan Police themselves?”

His brow puckered. “I take your point.”

“Certainly, you do.” She shut the magazine. “All columns of this nature are known for their sensationalism. They need subscribers, and one way to lure them is with grandiose statements such as this.”

“Still, A Concerned Citizen seeks revenge. In my experience, revenge is a dangerous motivator.”

It was Amelia’s experience as well. People didn’t think or act rationally when their feelings had been hurt or their security had been threatened.

The latter had been the case with A Concerned Citizen.

In Amelia’s opinion, the person was upset at Mayfair homes being entered without permission.

Little did they know that Lord Drake, as one of the most eligible bachelors this season, had been extended an invitation to every home he’d thieved.

“Which is why I must turn myself in to the Metropolitan Police.” Lord Drake took a deep breath, and the next words came out in a quick, steady stream of air. “It is the right thing to do, so do not try to dissuade me. I stole the items. I must pay for my crimes. It is the only solution.”

“What of your ill father? He cannot manage alone.” Amelia tossed the magazine aside. “Turning yourself in is not the solution.”

“There is no other. I thought on it all morning, and this is the only answer that causes harm to no one but myself.”

“It causes harm to your father, and you cannot allow that, and neither can I. I have a different plan. What if we find out who A Concerned Citizen is?” Lord Drake opened his mouth, as if to interrupt, and she continued more quickly.

“As you stated, the person wants revenge, and it does no one in town any good to have a spiteful person such as that making threats. I could reach out to the person. Make certain whoever it is feels less anxious. It might prevent future violence.”

“You would do that?” he asked.

“Of course I would.” Amelia felt his surprise.

Very few people in the upper echelons did something without gaining something in return.

“As a victim of the thefts myself, I have an advantage that you don’t.

I can allow the person to voice their frustrations and empathize with them.

” Saying the words aloud revealed an idea.

A Concerned Citizen might be concerned because they themselves had been a victim of the thefts.

If so, their motive for revenge was clear.

Amelia expressed the idea to Lord Drake.

“It’s a reasonable idea, and one with limited possibilities.

I committed five thefts this season. If what you propose is true, the letter writer has to be someone from those five families.

Oh!” Lord Drake’s brown eyes grew as round as two cups of coffee.

“What of Lady Tabitha?” He put his hand to his mouth, half covering a gasp.

“She’s known for her unwillingness to compromise. ”

That was a nice way of putting it. Tabitha had a strong sense of justice that imbued all aspects of her life.

She would not abide wrongness; it simply would not do.

But spitefulness wasn’t in her nature. Amelia couldn’t reconcile the vengeful spirit of the letter writer with the aunt she knew and loved.

Furthermore, Tabitha would never threaten the Amesbury reputation by naming Amelia as Lady Agony, which, she supposed, could point to why the threats had come to nil.

The threat itself may be enough for Amelia to stop writing under the pseudonym.

Still, the idea was unfathomable. “I do not believe it is her, but living in the same house, I can easily confirm the fact. I’ll check her name off the list first and foremost. Then we can move on to the other possibilities, which include … ”

Lord Drake ticked off the thefts on one hand. “Lord and Lady Applegate, Lord and Lady Hamsted, Mr. Timmons, and his neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Heigh.”