Page 68 of The Phantom Duke

“Theo!” Evelina snapped, “now is not the time for scientific curiosity. If our friend feels this house holds mysteries, then we accept that it does.”

“I like a mystery,” Theodora replied stubbornly.

“You like unravelling a mystery until it is no longer mysterious,” her sister replied. “If it were up to you, every knot would be unbound and our clothes would fall off!”

The banter between the two was perfectly timed. Maria laughed, feeling the sudden pressure that had been weighing on her, lifting.

“It is a bright, sunny day. Let us go out to the lawn, and I will tell you all I can of mysteries. There are no secrets between us,” Maria said, smiling.

Except perhaps, for that conversation she had shared with Evelina about her husband’s strange inclination and seeming unwillingness to give her pleasure.

Evelina looked relieved at her smile. Theodora looked interested in the proposed topic of conversation.

“Where should we hold it, do you think? A public space or at my house?” Anna said, still dwelling on the prospect of a ball.

“Somewhere scandalous,” Evelina said, her eyes sparkling. “Then, you may find your reputation as ruined as mine.”

“Is that your aim?” Anna asked, laughing. “To see us all as ruined as you?”

“Indeed,” Evelina said seriously. “If I ruin all your reputations, I will appear spotless in comparison to you all. First, I shall ensure that your reputation is sullied, followed by my poor sister?—”

“How dare you!” Theodora exclaimed. “You must at least wait until I am wed!”

Evelina sighed. “You are inconveniencing me.”

“Yes,” Maria said, her lips twitching into a fond smile. “How dare your sister wish to ensure that she is safely wed before you ruin her reputation?”

“Well, I suppose I could always ruinyoubefore her,” Evelina mused.

“Is that why you suggested I arrive at the ball unaccompanied?” Maria asked.

Evelina gasped and put a hand to her chest, as if scandalized by the very notion that she might be involved in some scheme. “How dare you, Maria?”

Maria laughed again, linking her arm through Anna’s and leading the way to the door.

“To the point,” Anna said. “Where shall we host it, do you think?”

“I have always loved your home, Anna,” Maria said. “Let it be there.”

Before they reached the door, there was a knock. For one brief, thrilling moment, Maria thought it might be Damien. Her reason intervened to quash hope, though Damien would not have knocked. Nor would he have any reason to come and meet her at the Corset Chronicles.

“Come in!” Maria called.

Philby entered bearing a tray on which there was a letter.

“Correspondence for you, Your Grace,” Philby intoned as though he were delivering an invitation to a funeral.

“Thank you, Philby. We shall take our tea outside on the lawn. Kindly have the tea things relocated,” Maria said, picking up the envelope.

Philby’s eyes roamed over the tea service as though contemplating a herculean effort.

“Of course, Your Grace. I pray it does not rain.”

The sky outside was spotless blue, but to Philby, probably gray and thunderous. As the butler departed to summon a maid to gather the tea service, Maria opened the letter.

“I wonder who would be writing to me here?”

“Anyone who read the banns and knows you are now the Duchess of Winterleigh, presumably,” Theodora reasoned.