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

THREE

Dear Lady Agony,

The Mayfair Marauder terrorized families in Mayfair, breaking into their homes and stealing their most prized heirlooms. Supposedly, the identity of this bandit is known by you, yet you allow the person to go unreprimanded.

That decision does not belong to a penny paper authoress but to the Metropolitan Police.

If you do not name the bandit at once, I will name you.

I have determined your true identity and will unveil it to one and all without warning.

Do not doubt it, and do not cross me. If you do, your family will pay the price.

Devotedly,

A Concerned Citizen

Dear Readers,

The above letter was sent to me by a fellow reader, and after fretting over it for nearly a week, I decided the best response was to print it in its entirety.

This is not the first time I have been threatened, even by this reader, but I do hope it will be the last. I took up the pen in earnest, doing what I can with the ability and passion I possess.

I endeavor to do right with each response, and while you might not always agree with me, I hope you will respect my decisions.

When it comes to the one concerning the Mayfair Marauder, I made it with the purest intentions. I will not reverse course.

Yours in Secret,

Lady Agony

The next day, when the paper arrived, Amelia scanned it and tossed it on the stack of afternoon mail.

Knowing the letter was forthcoming didn’t make it any easier to see in print.

She had cringed reading her own words. How could she have been so dense?

The response would help no one. In fact, other readers might rally around the author, A Concerned Citizen.

They might take the writer’s side, agreeing that indeed Amelia should identify the jewel thief in her column.

She wouldn’t do it in a hundred years, or even a thousand.

Lord Drake was a kind person. Yes, he’d stolen Tabitha’s famed diamond brooch, but he’d also returned it.

In the meantime, he and Amelia had become very good friends, and she’d no more turn him over to the police than Kitty Hamsted, who was expected at her house any moment.

The only person who knew his identity was Simon, and that was because they’d been partners in the investigation.

He’d understood why she’d kept his identity secret.

Lord Drake’s reputation would be ruined if she revealed his thievery in her column.

Whether or not the Metropolitan Police would be able to charge him with a crime didn’t matter.

He would never be welcomed into polite society again.

When the library door opened, she looked up, anticipating a much-needed conversation with Kitty over a cup of tea.

What she saw, however, was Simon storming the room with the paper tucked under his armpit.

She closed her eyes briefly. Knowing his penchant for overreacting, she hadn’t told him about the blackmailer.

He had no idea she was being harassed. She opened her eyes and met the fury in his.

He did now.

“Lord Bainbridge to see you, my lady,” the butler announced in a winded voice.

“What in God’s name were you thinking?” Simon asked.

“That’ll be all, Jones,” Amelia said. “Thank you.”

Jones shut the door.

“Well?” Simon prodded.

“Please calm yourself.” Amelia motioned to the chair across from her desk. “I do not need the neighbors overhearing your outburst.”

He folded himself into it like a petulant child who had just been told he couldn’t have a second dessert. “I am not calm, Amelia. Imagine opening the papers to find your closest confidante is being blackmailed, and you yourself were unaware of the situation.”

Despite his grave tone, her lips turned up in pleasure. “I am your closest confidante?”

He didn’t return her smile.

“I would be upset, naturally.” Undone would have more accurately described it, but she kept that to herself. “I wouldn’t be unmanageable, however. I’d realize that my confidant was capable of making his own decisions.”

“Even when those decisions involve other loved ones, including dear family friends?” He ran a hand through his black hair. The result was a distracting loose wave covering his forehead. Amelia imagined it looked this way at sea after a strong burst of wind did its work.

She refocused on the topic. “You’re right. I should have told you. You’ve been friends with the Amesburys for years and deserved to know our reputation may be in peril.”

“I don’t give a damn about anyone’s reputation!” He grasped the arms of the chair as if to keep himself from becoming unmoored. “I care about family. I care about you.”

She knew he did, but it was still nice to be told. There was a time in their relationship when he wouldn’t have expressed the notion as vocally—or passionately. Although the circumstances could be better, she saw it as positive progress. “I apologize.”

He opened his mouth in surprise, as if ready to contradict her, then closed it. “How many letters have you received from the blackmailer?”

“Three.” She pointed at the letter to Lady Agony. “That was the third, and before you ask, it was the most threatening.”

He inhaled a sharp breath. “Three letters. The person is determined.”

“It would appear so. But I am determined, too. I refuse to have my decision undermined.”

“And I refuse to have your safety jeopardized.” His words were no louder than a whisper, but their intention was clear.

He planned to be her protector, her savior.

The problem was she didn’t need saving. Mr. Cross had made her question the reason behind her action, but that didn’t mean she didn’t stand by the action itself.

In fact, it might even work. If it didn’t, she had other avenues of recourse, none of which included Simon Bainbridge brandishing a shield or sword.

“All we can do is wait and see how the blackmailer reacts.” She wondered if a new letter was being written as they spoke, if A Concerned Citizen was busily penning a response to her bold action.

To see his own words in print must have been a great shock.

“With any luck, this will be the end of the blackmail. Sometimes all it takes is someone knowing about another’s bad actions to make them cease. Let us hope that is the case here.”

“And if it’s not?” he asked.

“I will not keep it from you. I promise.”

The word seemed to appease him, and his shoulders relaxed.

Mr. Jones returned to the door. “I apologize for the interruption, but Mrs. Hamsted says she is expected. Shall I put her in the drawing room?”

“No, no. Please bring her in.”

Kitty Hamsted entered in a whirl of lavender frills.

Her parasol was lavender as well with a straw-colored handle that matched her hat.

The purple flowers on the brim of her bonnet made her blue eyes look violet, and Amelia welcomed the happy sight.

The tension in the room was released by her entrance, and Amelia stood and motioned to her enthusiastically.

Kitty walked to the middle of the room and poised the parasol at her side in a dashing manner. “You, my friend, are the talk of the ton.” She paused. “Lord Bainbridge, excuse me. Jones did not tell me Lady Amesbury had company.”

“Mrs. Hamsted, it’s always a pleasure.”

Simon and Amelia came away from her desk, joining Kitty in the seating area.

“Pray tell, why am I the talk of the ton?” Amelia asked, unable to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

“Not you.” Kitty adjusted her skirt to avoid a crease before sitting down. “Lady Agony. Reprinting the letter was a brilliant idea.”

Amelia sneaked a peek at Simon, who had developed a light twitch in his jaw. “Not everyone thinks so.”

“Not everyone is as brilliant as you are, then.” Kitty leaned closer, lowering her voice in a way that made Amelia and Simon lean in, too. “Even Lady Hamsted is reading Lady Agony. Can you imagine it? My mother-in-law. I would have never dreamt it.” She clapped. “Bravo.”

“Yes, well, Lady Agony might have increased her readership, but Lady Amesbury has increased her chances of retaliation.” Simon cleared his throat. “I do not mean to be a killjoy, but Amelia’s safety is my utmost concern.”

“Of course it is.” Dropping her smile, Kitty rushed to agree. “It is mine as well.” She turned to Amelia, the skin around her eyes creased with new concern. “Do we believe the blackmailer knows your identity? I did not believe it was the case.”

“It is hard to say for certain,” said Amelia. “The letters are still coming through the magazine office, so we have no proof there. The blackmailer claims to possess the information but has provided no evidence to support it.”

“I worry it’s forthcoming.” Simon spoke the words into his lap, perhaps not wanting to put the idea into the atmosphere.

“Until we have proof, I see no cause for concern, and fretting will do us no good.” Amelia could do nothing about the blackmailer right now, perhaps not ever, but she could do something about her sister’s wedding.

She could make plans with Kitty, which is why she’d called in the first place.

“Let us turn to happier news: Captain Fitz and Madge’s wedding. ”

Kitty clasped her lavender-lace-gloved hands in her lap with excitement. “We have less than two weeks to plan it. What have you done so far?”

“Sent a note to you.” Amelia chuckled, and the remainder of the tension in the room seemed to float out of the window. Even Simon joined in the jest with a laugh.

“I confess I’ve never planned a wedding.” Kitty chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Knowing your sister, she will insist on a robust meal, and the captain, well, I imagine his family is of hearty stock. The Scott family … will they be coming?”

“Yes.” Amelia could practically see the designs forming in Kitty’s pretty head.

“Just imagine, all of them in the same room, celebrating the grand couple.” Kitty sighed. “I, for one, cannot wait.”

“It might not be as comfortable as you imagine, Kitty,” Amelia cautioned. “Lady Tabitha has voiced concerns about the wedding and does not relish the thought of hosting a breakfast.”

Kitty frowned. Not wanting a party was a foreign concept to her. “What could she possibly object to?”

“Considering Miss Scott’s recent obstacles with the law, her objections might be valid,” added Simon.

Despite her mild agreement, Amelia didn’t appreciate the criticism. “Madge had nothing to do with the trouble.”

“Her argument with Mr. Radcliffe had everything to do with it,” Simon continued. “It placed her on the top of the suspect list.”

“A suspect list of one,” retorted Amelia.

“I cannot imagine Madge arguing with anyone on her wedding day.” Except Aunt Cassandra, whom she despises with unparalleled fervor, and Cousin Matthew, her son, who will undoubtedly show up without an invitation.

Amelia pressed her fingers to her temples.

Which is why they must be stopped from attending. But that was a problem for another day.

“Nor I,” Kitty added amenably. The friends never missed an opportunity to lend each other support. “It will be a lovely day for a lovely person.”

The proclamation hung in the air, leaving little room for debate, and Amelia felt better, despite Simon’s thick dark eyebrows, which peaked too high in question for her taste. The butler’s surprise knock on the door came just in time to put any question to rest. “Yes, Jones?”

“The curate is here from the parish office. I wouldn’t have interrupted you, but he states it’s urgent. He would not be dissuaded.”

Kitty and Simon frowned in tandem. Amelia hoped her smile would put them at ease.

“I went to see Mr. Cross yesterday. He and I made plans for the ceremony.” She turned to Jones.

“Please bring Mr. Dougal in. Mrs. Hamsted will be assisting me with the wedding, and any news he has might be informative to all of us.”

Amelia welcomed the curate, who appeared distraught in the extreme. His face was splotched with pink patches, as if he’d had a good cry earlier in the day, and his blue eyes, rimmed in red, attested to the fact.

“Mr. Dougal.” Amelia stood. “Is something wrong?” She crossed the room without thinking.

“Something is very wrong, my lady.” Mr. Dougal shifted from one foot to the other.

“Please, sit down.This is Lord Bainbridge and Mrs. Hamsted.They are helping me with my sister’s wedding plans.

Anything you have to say might be said in front of them.

” Amelia motioned to the green leather couch across from Simon and Kitty, and after they exchanged greetings, the vicar’s assistant sat down. “Now what is it that has upset you?”

“I come with news.” Mr. Dougal paused. “There is no good way to tell you.”

Inside, Amelia faltered, but she attempted a brave face for the young curate. He was distressed, and worrying about her reaction would only make him more so. “I find the best way is outright and without delay.”

He took a deep breath, summoning his courage. “Mr. Cross has been murdered.”