Page 9 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

The next morning, Stella rolled over, felt the warm empty spot next to her, and opened her eyes. She lifted her head, surprised to find herself in bed. At some point, after their intense lovemaking, she hadn’t remembered Beckworth carrying her to bed.

She laughed. He’d put her in a temporary coma. Perhaps there was something to the rumors that abstinence made the sex hotter.

“It’s about time you woke.” Libby walked by holding a day dress the color of lilacs. “You have twenty minutes until breakfast. I don’t think Eleanor will mind if you’re a bit late, but no more than ten minutes.”

Stella stretched and took in a deep breath. Her head popped up. “Is that coffee I smell?”

Libby chortled. “And you’ll have to come get it. I won’t pamper you like Beckworth.”

“So much for a lady’s maid.”

“Yes. A lady’s maid, not a nanny.”

“Funny.” She swept the covers aside and rolled to a sitting position, her feet dangling off the side of the bed. She scratched her head. Her hair was its usual rat’s nest. It would take Libby the full twenty minutes to make her decent enough to be seen in public.

She grabbed her robe, didn’t bother tying it, and shuffled to the table where the coffee service sat.

After pouring a cup, she took a long sip, closed her eyes, and waited for the brew to shake the cobwebs loose.

It took three sips before they were gone and she could remember what the day held in store.

“Come sit. It will take me forever to get that bird’s nest under control.”

Stella grinned at Libby’s similar thoughts. She stared at herself in the mirror and braced for Libby’s brushing.

“You mentioned I might have some time to visit friends while we’re here.”

“And it’s still true.” Her eyes lit up. “You’re not thinking of a man by any chance.”

Libby held back a grin and pointed a brush at her reflection in the mirror. “There will be none of that.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Stella tilted her head until Libby’s brushing forced it back the other way. “In all seriousness, is there someone back at Waverly?”

Libby bit her lip as she twisted Stella’s hair before pinning it up. “There might be one or two gentlemen in Corsham that I see on occasion.”

“That’s my girl.” Stella took a long drink of the cooled coffee, her gaze watching Libby’s expression.

“You’re a bad influence.”

“That’s not the insult you might think it is.”

Libby stared at her, and they both burst out in laughter.

“There was someone here in London. It was casual, but we lived together.” She snorted. “Well, a few of the crew lived together to afford a decent place, but we shared a bed.”

“Why did you leave London for Waverly?”

“Would you give up an opportunity for better money and a grander place to live for a man who was unwilling to commit and had no promising future?”

“If I loved him, I might have encouraged him to come with me. Chances are, Beckworth would have given him a better life.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Johnny was a nice enough bloke, but he wasn’t very high up in the crew for a reason.”

“Then what interested you in the first place?”

“His broad shoulders.”

They laughed again until Libby got the hiccups. She was still hiccupping as she dressed Stella.

“Do you mind if I take some time today to go to the East End?” Libby asked as Stella fussed with her shoes.

“Not at all. I think I’ll be at Mary’s most of the day. They want to go over their stack of recent invitations.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Several invitations arrived yesterday. Barrington has them. You should take them with you and see if they’re for the same parties.”

Stella gave Libby a curious look as she strode to the door. “Where is Beckworth anyway?”

“He said Hensley wanted to take his new stallion out for a ride. Barrington will take you to Mary’s after breakfast.”

Stella arrived five minutes late and received a disappointed stare from Eleanor. Bart and Lincoln didn’t seem to care, and the food was still warm. She did a double-take when she noticed their tailored waistcoats and jackets.

“What’s up with the fancy dress?”

Bart growled, and Lincoln grinned.

“Bart’s taking me to the Royal College of Surgeons to introduce me to some old colleagues. And I wouldn’t mind getting familiar with the place.”

“I thought it would be easier to make several short trips since we’ll be in London for a while.” Bart pushed his food around before cutting into a sausage. “I need to see who’s still around who might know me. Flush out friends from enemies. That sort of thing.”

Stella held her grin. “Surveillance gathering.”

Bart pointed a fork at her. “Exactly.”

“Is Barrington going with you?”

“After he drops you off at Hensley’s. We’ll be fine.”

Stella glanced at Eleanor, who focused on her meal, seemingly uninterested in the conversation.

She’d selected a sage-green day dress that was much nicer than the plain dresses she typically wore.

To be fair, she spent most of her time cleaning or following the staff around, and she preferred to fit in.

Besides, part of Eleanor’s charm was not caring what anyone else thought.

“Are you coming to Mary’s with me?” She pushed her eggs around and nibbled the herb-roasted turnips.

Eleanor took a moment before realizing Stella was speaking to her. “Sorry. I was lost in my own thoughts. Mary asked me, and she’s a difficult woman to say no to.”

“It would be rather boring to stay here all day alone.”

“Perhaps, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be around all those ladies.”

Stella blanched. “How many ladies did Mary invite?”

“I don’t know exactly, but her housekeeper mentioned setting up six tables in the garden.”

Stella did the math. The table sat four to six people, depending on how they arranged the settings. She gulped, not sure she was any more ready than Eleanor to meet that many in a private setting.

Eleanor seemed to notice her discomfort.

“It will be a long day, but it’s better to meet these women in a more intimate setting before running into them at a ball.

Beckworth will guide you away from the nosy ones who are more interested in meeting an American for entertainment value.

As Mary said, it will help with the smaller garden and tea parties.

You don’t seem to have a problem joining a conversation. You’ll be fine.”

Stella mulled over the last part of Eleanor’s statement, unsure if it was meant as a compliment. “I’m not worried about making conversation. I’m worried about saying the wrong thing or not using the proper fork.”

Eleanor waved off her concerns. “You’re from an upstart country, so they’ll expect a certain lack of etiquette.

” She chewed her food as she considered Stella’s concern.

“You’re also the consort of the Viscount of Waverly and a friend of Dame Elizabeth.

No one would dare risk condemnation from Elizabeth. ”

Stella brightened. “You’re right. That makes me feel better.”

The words sounded inspiring until the carriage pulled up in front of Hensley’s manor, and Stella glanced out the window as two impeccably dressed women climbed the steps.

She fingered the invitations Beckworth had received.

She’d stuffed them into her left pocket, preferring to keep her dagger in the right one.

With a deep breath, she followed Eleanor out of the coach.

She was surprised when they were ushered into one of the sitting rooms where a long table had been set up.

It reminded her of the way Mary had organized tables for Hensley’s mission meetings when they’d battled Gemini.

This time, flower arrangements were centered on the table rather than hand-drawn tactical maps.

Two coffee and tea services were placed on either side of the fresh blooms that scented the room, and eight place settings had been prepared—three on each side of the table and one on each end.

Three women were already seated at the table, and her nerves settled when Elizabeth glanced up at her entrance and smiled. Lady Agatha, who sat next to her, lifted her head, and when she spotted Stella, grinned with a slight challenge in her gaze.

“Lady Stella.” Agatha pointed to a seat directly across from her. “We saved a seat in the middle. I understand this is your first time in London for the season. You won’t want to miss anything.”

If it had been AJ who’d been directed where to sit, she would have been immediately suspicious that Agatha was up to something.

Stella had to agree the possibility was still on the table.

But as conniving as Agatha could be, her manner among friends was simply one of someone who enjoyed control over others.

Stella still had much to learn when dealing with the aristocracy, so she’d play Agatha’s games.

Before she could take a seat, Mary bustled in.

“There you are, my dear. So good to have you and Eleanor join us. Today’s events should properly prepare you for the next few weeks of social activities. But first, you must meet Lady Melbourne.”

The woman behind Mary was statuesque. She was a few years younger than Elizabeth, and although she didn’t possess Agatha’s beauty, her naturally regal air was friendly and would make anyone take a second glance.

“Call me Flora. Edgar and I are good friends of Beckworth’s.” Flora took a chair next to one of the women already seated. And this is Mabel Ashby. Her husband is also friends with Beckworth.”

Stella sat and nodded at Mabel. “I remember you. I think you were at one of Mary’s dinner parties the last time I was in London.”

Mabel, who Stella guessed was a few years older than her, held a dreamy expression. “I still remember that amazing dress. Periwinkle, if memory serves.”

“And the opals.” Agatha poured a cup of tea and placed a biscuit on her plate.

“Like the one you’re wearing now,” Mabel said.