Page 2 of Murder in Matrimony (A Lady of Letters Mystery #4)

TWO

Dear Lady Agony,

After reading your recent opinion on the marriage season, I would like your opinion on the words honor and obey.

As you must know, our great lady Queen Victoria emphasized the words at her own wedding, illustrating that, although she is our esteemed monarch, she is also a modest matron.

You have never been afraid to voice your concern for unwise words.

I wonder if you consider these two of them.

Devotedly,

A Wondering Wordsmith

Dear A Wondering Wordsmith,

Your account of Queen Victoria’s wedding vows is correct.

She indeed repeated the aforementioned words with emphasis.

Then again, she is the Queen of England and can emphasize whatever she likes.

It does not diminish her authority in any way.

We will continue to obey her regardless of her devotion to her husband, which is perhaps the only sense of the word that truly matters.

Yours in Secret,

Lady Agony

“I am not hosting a wedding breakfast for your sister, and that is final.” Tabitha emphasized both syllables in final with the stomp of her cane on the parquet floor of the breakfast room the next day.

“That’s correct, Aunt—you’re not.” Amelia tipped her chin in challenge. “I am.”

Madge had left for Mells only an hour before, and already Tabitha was making demands.

Let her make demands. Her breath would be better saved to cool her tea, which had just been poured.

Even without her younger sister’s brazen admission of informing their family of her plans, Amelia would be hosting her wedding party.

She had the space, the resources, and the time.

Their parents had none of those, and while Captain Fitz’s family might have been fully capable, the reception was the obligation of the bride’s parents.

Hosting the breakfast would relieve their parents of a good deal of pressure.

Bailey, the footman, pulled out a chair, waiting for Tabitha to be seated, but Tabitha didn’t budge from the doorway.

Garbed in a blue-green morning dress, she stood tall and proud like a peacock.

However, peacocks were not only pretty; they were fierce.

They could be aggressive when their territory was invaded, and now might be one of those times.

For if the Scott family was known for anything, it was invasions.

When traveling, descending upon a function like a gaggle of geese, they were often met with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

Some found it hard to believe—and a little odd—that a family could be as close as they were.

But their livelihood had not only made them close; it had made them partners of sorts.

They might spar like gladiators during the day, but they always closed the night as a family.

Bailey coughed, and Tabitha’s eyelids lowered in his direction. He edged closer to the wall, his fingertips dropping from the back of the chair.

Tabitha returned to Amelia. “You will disobey me then.”

“We are mutual friends, Aunt.” Amelia reached for her teacup, hoping the action would encourage Tabitha to sit down. “We do not obey or disobey but listen to and respect one another.”

“You are not respecting my decision.”

“Considering the decision involves my younger sister, perhaps it is not your decision to make?” In the spirit of reconciliation, Amelia allowed the statement to lift in question. It was enough for Tabitha to move to her chair and sit down. Immediately, Bailey served her customary dry toast.

“Your sister is trouble. You know it. I know it. And the ton knows it. Can you imagine what sort of mischief she could make at a wedding?” She paused. “Or wedding breakfast?” Which was perhaps worse since the Amesburys were organizing it.

Amelia set down her teacup. “It is her own wedding, Aunt. Why would she make mischief on her special day?”

“Mischief follows her wherever she goes, Amelia.” She leaned over her plate. “Look what happened at our recent ball. A man was murdered.” Pointing her long fingers, she tapped out both syllables of the word on the table.

“That was not her fault. In fact, she herself underwent a great deal of suffering. For that alone she deserves to have a wedding breakfast here.” Amelia made the last statement with much emotion, wondering why it was that she possessed the greatest empathy when a family member was absent.

Truly, Madge should be present to witness her passionate defense.

Tabitha ate her toast in silence, and the seconds stretched together in blessed solitude. Eventually she said, “I suppose your entire family will attend.”

“You may be sure of it.” Amelia knew her immediate family would not miss Madge’s wedding nor would her extended family, including aunts and uncles.

It was the bride’s prerogative, however, to invite intimate relatives and favored friends since the wedding was intended to be a sending from her paternal home.

Amelia would not deny her that. “We will need to make certain accommodations for family members who travel into town. Rooms, of course. Food. Entertainment.” She cleared her throat, not wanting to broach a certain subject but knowing she must for arrangements to run smoothly.

“There is my uncle Henry, who’s always been overly fond of sherry.

It might behoove us to remove it from the library during his stay. ”

“Uncle Henry?” Tabitha sputtered the name like a curse word.

“Aunt Gert—Gertrude—only partakes of wine, however, and that can easily be managed during the dinner hour.” Amelia looked to Bailey, who dipped his chin, cataloging the problem for later. “Trust me. You do not want to see her blootered. She has a very loud voice that grows louder still with drink.”

Tabitha took her last bite of toast with such force that brittle crumbs scattered to her plate.

“Do not concern yourself, Aunt.” Amelia used what she hoped was a reassuring tone. “I can make the necessary arrangements.”

Tabitha slowly dabbed her mouth and replaced her napkin before responding. “You can take the sherry out of the library, but more must be done for a wedding party than to hide the liquor. Someone must plan the wedding breakfast, and that someone must be me.”

Point taken. Tabitha studied menus as some captains studied maps. If Amelia wanted a first-rate wedding breakfast for her sister, which she did, Tabitha should be the one to plan it. But how to encourage her … that was the question. “I would not be averse to you making arrangements.”

A familiar smile, the one that brokered deals, flicked across Tabitha’s lips. If Tabitha hadn’t been born into the aristocracy, she might have made a fine banker. “And I would not be averse to you curbing your guest list.”

The statement was akin to checkmate. “Understood. I will stop at cousins, but aunts and uncles must be invited.”

“I will tell Jones to lock the liquor cabinet before their arrival.”

“A prudent plan.” Amelia pushed out her chair.

“I will see the vicar this afternoon. Madge will be back in two weeks, and I have much to do before then. Miss Hernandez took her measurements last evening for her dress, and alterations will be completed when she returns. We have not one moment to lose.”

“Mr. Cross,” Tabitha tutted.

Tabitha accused the Reverend Mr. Cross, whom they met before he became vicar of All Saints on Margaret Street, of popery, but Amelia liked the vicar a good deal. In fact, she liked him so much that she’d told him about her secret occupation as Lady Agony.

It was after church one Sunday when Mr. Cross was telling her about his involvement with the rookies in Wapping.

Although he was the vicar at All Saints on Margaret Street, he also conducted services at St. George-in-the-East. Like many men of the cloth, his services were lent out to the poorer parishes of town.

But unlike many, he was truly devoted to them.

He had since created a society of clergymen committed to helping the needy: the Society for the Greater Good.

One man, or even many, could only do so much, however, and when he told her about a troublesome candlemaker in the borough, she told him her secret occupation and promised to reveal the deplorable working conditions of the candlemaker in her column, which she promptly did the following week.

The candlemaker had been sanctioned shortly thereafter, and Mr. Cross was pleased with the outcome.

Since then, he and Amelia had become friends of sorts.

She knew if she could trust him with her identity, she could trust him with anything.

He was only one of four people who knew her secret.

“While you are exchanging niceties with your favorite vicar, I will see to the breakfast.” Tabitha sniffed.

“To accomplish it by the end of the month would be impossible for anyone who did not have my good connections. As it is, it will take much cajoling on my part, and you know how much I hate cajoling. I’ll have to make allowances that I’d rather not. ”

Amelia had a feeling the word cajole meant two different things to them. She’d never seen Tabitha plead for anything a day in her life. Tell, yes. Ask, maybe. Cajole, hardly. “I know you will meet the challenge, Aunt.” She gave Tabitha’s shoulder a pat as she walked by.

Tabitha shrank from her touch. “Of course I will meet the challenge, Amelia. The point is not if but why.”

“Goodbye.” Amelia hurried out of the breakfast room before debating that question.

Outside, the day was hotter than she liked it.

The overcast sky had cleared, and early morning raindrops made the city shine.

The air was heavy with a hint of hazelnuts from a nearby costermonger cart in Hyde Park.

As she made her way to Margaret Street, a kaleidoscope of scents including bread, ale, and smoke assailed her, and she took in the good and the bad with equal pleasure.