Page 27 of Murder in Matrimony (A Lady of Letters Mystery #4)

“What? Kitty, no.” Amelia couldn’t comprehend why Kitty would think such an idea was viable or helpful.

In fact, it would only compound the problem.

If Oliver knew she was Lady Agony, he would never allow them to spend time together.

As it was, he was suspicious when Kitty was injured in her company.

Once, he’d asked her outright if she was two people: one a countess and one a harbinger of hazard.

She had laughed off the accusation, but he hadn’t realized then how close he had been to the truth.

Now Kitty wanted to tell him. Gracious no!

“We must. It is the only way. If he knows of the problem, he will be able to speak of it to his mother. Imagine.” Kitty spread out her hands as if to calm the noise in Amelia’s head.

“There is no one in the world Lady Hamsted loves as much as her son. If he asked her to, she would forget the entire debacle.”

“Think of it, Kitty.” Amelia couldn’t keep the dismay out of her voice. “We would never be able to go out again for the sake of a letter. Oliver already thinks me reckless. Now he will have a reason.”

She held up a single finger. “Precisely. Oliver is not an unfeeling man. He is reasonable and just. If he sees the objective to our outings, he will be more agreeable, not less.”

“Love makes you blind.” Amelia shook her head. “He will put an end to them forever.”

“He won’t. I wouldn’t suggest it if he would.

” She touched Amelia’s chin, which had dipped low, and lifted it.

“Trust me. He believes women’s voices are valuable and has done much in terms of his own research to interject them.

He is not one of these tyrants who believes women should stay in their place.

He might even be pleased with the news.”

Amelia agreed he was amiable as far as women’s independence was concerned, but where that independence involved Kitty, she wasn’t as certain.

He could imagine no harm coming to her, and harm was possible, albeit unlikely, when they set off to find the truth of a letter.

But would he ban their friendship if he knew her true identity?

It was a question they would soon find the answer to when they joined him in the drawing room.

There he sat staring at The Times, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, hardly noting their arrival, except to say, “Can you believe this, darling? A prospectus has appeared for The United Kingdom Telegraph Company. Its object is to convey messages at a low and uniform rate no matter the distance. Remarkable.” When Kitty didn’t answer, he looked up from the paper and started.

“Lady Amesbury. I didn’t expect you for a visit. ” He folded his paper. “I apologize.”

“Good afternoon,” replied Amelia. “No apology necessary.”

Looking from Amelia to Kitty, Oliver took off his spectacles, placing them on top of the newspaper. He was observant to a fault, the consummate scholar, and suspected trouble at once. “I trust nothing is the matter?”

“To come to the point, we need to speak with you on a topic of grave importance.” Kitty sat on the settee. “If now is a good time.”

“Why, of course it is. Any time. You know that, dearest.” He joined her on the settee, searching her face for clues.

“It has to do with Lady Amesbury.” Kitty indicated her direction.

Amelia nodded solemnly from the striped, high-backed chair.

“Most things of grave concern involve Lady Amesbury.” He smiled but dropped the smile immediately when he saw Kitty’s reaction. “Is it that bad?”

“The thing itself isn’t bad at all.” Kitty swallowed as if trying to find a way to make the information sound palatable. “The problem arises as it relates to your mother.”

“My mother?” Oliver was truly perplexed, his eyebrows forming peaks at the fringe of his shaggy brown hair.

“Perhaps I had better explain it,” started Amelia. “There is no easy way to say it, Kitty.”

“Say what?” he begged. “Please, come out with it.”

“I write under the pseudonym of Lady Agony. I have authored the column for two years.”

“You’re Lady Agony?” Oliver blinked.

“Yes.”

He sat silently for a moment, then looked to Kitty for confirmation.

She nodded, and he contemplated the information.

A smile began to reach across his face until it changed his entire visage from perplexed scholar to amused friend.

“I don’t mind telling you that I admire Lady Agony’s letters.

They’re smart, and I appreciate nothing better than good writing. ”

Amelia felt herself smiling, too. “Thank you, Oliver. That means a good deal coming from you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” he asked.

“The fewer people who know my identity, the better,” Amelia explained. “It’s the nature of the column, I’m afraid. I thought to tell you eventually.”

“Your mother, however, has found out the truth.” Kitty frowned.

“Really? I cannot imagine how.”

“It is a long story,” Kitty warned.

“I am good with long stories,” said Oliver, settling in next to her.

Kitty proceeded to relay the information.

She told him a clue was first dropped when the ruby necklace was stolen, and bent on revenge, Lady Hamsted had followed Lady Agony’s column anxiously for the reveal.

When none came, and Lady Agony told readers she would be keeping the Mayfair Marauder’s identity a secret, she determined to find out Lady Agony’s identity.

It was easy enough to do when she began with those who knew the people involved in finding the stolen ruby.

Only six people knew of its removal from the house, seven including Detective Collings.

If Lady Agony knew the identity of the thief, she certainly knew about the theft of the ruby.

It had to be Amelia. She was the only woman who fit the description.

“There is one other,” said Oliver.

“Who?” Kitty and Amelia asked in unison.

“First.” He tossed his shaggy hair, which perpetually dipped below his eyebrows. “You know who stole the jewels in Mayfair?”

“Yes,” said Amelia.

He nodded, but did not ask for a name. “And you know for certain it is my mother’s handkerchief, Kitty?”

“Quite certain,” Kitty answered.

He considered the problem.

At least, Amelia thought that’s what he was doing. His brown eyes bounced from her to Kitty to the newspaper to the bookshelf.

“Oliver?” Kitty pressed.

Oliver stood abruptly. “I have figured it out, although as the rightful authoress, Lady Amesbury, you may not be satisfied with the solution. I assure you, however, only one way to solve the problem exists, and I have it.”

“Do not keep us in suspense, Oliver,” Kitty chastised. “Tell us!”

“I must inform my mother I am Lady Agony.” Oliver stuck out his chest a little as he pronounced the pseudonym.

Amelia looked at Kitty, and Kitty looked at Amelia. Amelia placed her hand over her mouth to cover a laugh.

“Of all the worst times to tell a joke, Oliver.” Kitty was incensed. “Humor doesn’t become you.”

Oliver drew back as if physically hurt by her words. “It is not a jest. I am serious.”

Amelia cleared her throat. “Perhaps if you could elaborate on how you could be … Lady Agony, it might help us understand.” She was having a hard time saying the words, let alone believing the idea, and Kitty crossed her arms, completely unconvinced.

“I’m surprised you haven’t come to it already.

” Baffled by their reactions, Oliver proceeded to explain his reasoning like a teacher to a pupil.

“I read. I research. I write. I’ve learned under the best historians.

It would be the most natural activity in the world for me to conduct research under the guise of Lady Agony.

I might need to form an opinion about a topic, for instance, the upper crust’s response to crime in London. ”

Amelia warmed to the idea.

Kitty loosened her arms across her chest.

“What is unbelievable is that Lady Agony is purported to be a woman, and I am a man.” He dismissed the idea with the wave of his hand. “Any person conducting research on social issues might proclaim the very same. Everyone knows women are more trusted than men in this area.”

Kitty lifted a blonde eyebrow. “It’s true. I do not know of an author in a domestic magazine who isn’t a woman.”

“My mother finds me singular in most ways. She will not find the idea unusual in the least, and I am the only one in the party of six whom she loves with the heart of a mother.” Here he turned to Amelia with earnestness.

“I am truly sorry for the way she has behaved toward you. The ruby means much to her, but it is no excuse. She has the jewel in her possession. For her to accost you in such a way is deplorable, and I make no justification for it.” He tilted his head. “Please forgive her on my behalf.”

“Absolutely.” Amelia’s voice was thick with emotion.

“For you to do this …” She swallowed. “To assume an identity you do not own and perhaps do not wish to is a grand gesture, heroic even.” She stood and took his hand.

“I can only thank you, yet how insufficient those words are at expressing my gratitude.”

“I am not heroic.” He shook her hand. “I am happy to do it, as a friend and scholar. I want your work to continue.”

“Truly?” she asked.

“Why, yes.” He smiled a lopsided smile. “Diverse ideas are required in any field. I do not see why domestic papers should be any different.”

“You are my hero, Oliver!” Kitty stood and flung her arms around him. Oliver’s cheeks pinkened at her overt affection.

Amelia didn’t try to hide her smile. The longer she looked upon the adoring couple, the wider it became. Perhaps Kitty had been right all along. Perhaps Oliver was too good for words.