Page 8 of The Perks of Loving a Wallflower

This appeared to be one of the bad days.

Usually, the siblings sat in an order that mirrored their family portrait. Today, Elizabeth arranged herself on a sofa, along with a plethora of pillows.

Tommy and Graham took their customary seats between two tall windows. Chloe preferred to pace the slate floor between the fireplace and the large walnut-and-burl table, taking care to step over chalk-drawn schedules and maps from prior planning sessions.

“Thank God for intrigue,” said Elizabeth. “I was growing bored. We haven’t had a case to solve in ages.”

Graham stared at her. “We finished a mission yesterday.”

“As I said.” She waved a hand. “Ages.”

Graham turned to Chloe. “Well? What is it? Rescue services? Blackmail? Kidnapping?”

“A man is taking credit for a woman’s idea,” Tommy said flatly.

Her brother blinked.

“I take it back,” Elizabeth said dryly. “This isn’t anewcase at all.”

“I have to agree,” Graham said. “That must happen ten times a day.”

“Ten times a second,” Chloe corrected.

“Huzzah,” said Elizabeth. “‘Contravene patriarchal coverture’ is exactly the sort of evening activity I was looking forward to. I’m going to need a bigger sword stick.”

“Let’s begin with something small and grow from there,” Tommy suggested. “We have a specific client who needs our help. You all remember meeting Damaris Urqhart last summer?”

“Of course.” Graham turned to select a fresh journal from the bookshelf next to his chair. “What does she need us to put a stop to?”

“The Prince Regent’s season-opening celebration,” Chloe replied.

“‘Something small,’” Elizabeth repeated. “I like it.”

Graham pulled another volume from his shelf. “This journal contains the notes I’ve made about each of Prinny’s previous galas and celebrations.” He paused with his finger on the spine. “Would this have anything to do with a certain Captain Northrup’s recent cryptographical achievements?”

“That’s right,” Tommy said. “Thanks to Damaris, Philippa collects illuminated manuscripts. Apparently, at some point prior to Chloe and I attending the Thursday afternoon reading circle—”

“Philippa,” Graham and Elizabeth cooed in tandem.

Tommy glared at them both.

Elizabeth batted her lashes innocently. “How did our dear Philippa look today, Tommy?”

“Like the most beautiful woman in London?” Graham asked with faux earnestness.

“In England,” Tommy muttered.

“I could introduce you as…you,” Chloe reminded her. “Then you wouldn’t have to keep pretending to be blustery old Great-Aunt Wynchester.”

“Ican’ttalk to her as me,” Tommy said. “When I get close enough to touch, all of my thoughts jumble and fall out of my head.”

“I guess everyone has a weakness,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “Mine is uncontrollable bloodlust.”

“Jacob’s weakness is baby hedgehogs,” Chloe added helpfully. “And romantic poetry.”

“Shall we concentrate on the case?” Graham sharpened his pencil. “I should like to read all the coded communications. What do you think Damaris’s cipher helped the army to do, precisely?”

“What it helpedNorthrupdo,” Tommy answered, “is accept honors for plagiarizing Damaris’s work.”