Chapter 2

Chapter Two

" I dare point out that I invited you to tea to speak of the ton's goings-on, not to watch you gaze out of the window like a book heroine, Veronica."

The voice of her friend, Evelina Stapleton, drifted to her mind quietly, as if from far away.

A clatter surprised Veronica, and she startled, looking to find her pouting friend, who had set her teacup down with a loud, displeased sound.

"And our book heroine returns," Evelina teased. "Do tell, what plagues your mind?"

"Nothing," Veronica answered, but her voice was too quiet and unconvincing, and her friend knew her better than that.

"Do not presume me simple, Veronica." Her friend gave her a teasing smile.

Viscount Fernwell's daughter was a blonde-haired, petite girl with pretty blue eyes that blinked at Veronica as if she was a doll with a curious tilt to her head. Her hair was half bound upwards intricately while the rest fell in loose waves. She sipped her tea, looking at Veronica. Once again, she set the cup down audibly.

The parlor of Fernwell House was a decorated affair with pale blue walls and mahogany furniture that was comfortable and relaxing. It got Veronica out of the mindset of being in her own house, a practical mausoleum. She truly did love attending Fernwell House, especially when the Fernwell's staff prepared macarons.

She popped another tart dessert piece into her mouth and chewed, buying herself time. This must have been how her mother felt several nights ago when Veronica had uncovered her secret.

"Your mind is never so far away," Evelina persisted. "What is the matter?"

"There is no matter," she answered airily, shaking her head. "I am merely indisposed after several fitful nights of sleep."

It was entirely a lie. Ever since catching Lord Barwicke in their gardens, she had been on alert through the night, hoping to catch him in the act of taking advantage of her mother. But as of yet, the two had become more secretive now that Judith knew that Veronica knew, or Veronica had not been fortunate enough to hear as much as she hoped.

Evelina gave her a look over the rim of her teacup, entirely unconvinced. "Are you thinking about Robert?"

Veronica's hands trembled as she set down her teacup, swallowing. Her pale blue dress with its capped, puff sleeves and the delicate, embroidered design, suddenly felt too cinched. Her chest tightened, and she wished to free herself of the restraints. Her cheeks flushed, for how could she admit the true woes on her mind? They were not hers to tell. She could not bring shame to her mother and discuss the exchange happening under the roof of Grantham House.

"Indeed," she replied simply, nodding.

"Oh, Veronica." Evelina sighed and moved her chair closer, reaching out to place her hand on her friend's gloved one. "The Earl will be found! You shall see. And when he does, you shall host a party in honor of his return, and everybody will forget all about it soon after. Everything will work out, and your mama will be herself again. My mama does miss visiting Grantham."

"She does not attend our house anymore," Veronica acknowledged. "Why is that?"

"The last several times, the Dowager Countess looked at Mama through an upstairs window, and her staff reported her as out on a social call."

That will be her shame, driving her away from her friends , Veronica thought sadly. I am glad she still visits Lady Hastings, however.

Lady Fernwell was quite the gossip whereas Lady Hastings had been known to experience a scandal or two of her own several decades ago. If Veronica's mother turned to someone in this awful time, it was no wonder she found kin in Lady Hastings. Still, it would be lovely to know her mama might take advantage of all the help and support she could. Normalcy was still needed.

Veronica reminded herself of that now as Evelina took a macaron, smiling indulgently.

"At your brother's return party, we shall have a whole stand of macarons, and we shall eat every last one. Let us look forward to that as I am certain it is only a matter of time before Robert is found."

They giggled together, and Veronica knew indeed they needed normalcy, even as she tried to push thoughts of her brother's body, found dead, from her mind.

She had envisioned every horrible way it might be discovered. Half-eaten by a beast, mangled by a fallen building, trampled underfoot of a horse, bloated from drowning.

Her imagination ran cruelly wild.

But she picked up another sweet treat, placed it on her tongue, and chewed to let her mind refocus back on her friend.

Soon, the door closed from the other side of the house, and the soft brush of footsteps announced the return of Lady Fernwell.

"Good afternoon—" she said, her voice ringing and her hips swinging as she walked into the parlor, brandishing a folded piece of paper on which an embossed logo announced itself as the local gossip sheet. "I have brought the news with me." But when she saw Veronica, she slowed her gait, her smile faltering. "Lady Veronica." She inclined her head towards her, and Veronica smiled in greeting.

"It is a lovely afternoon, Lady Fernwell, would you agree?"

"Indeed."

"Oh, Mama," Evelina sighed exasperatedly. "I do not understand why you read that gossip drivel. It is merely speculation, written for the entertainment of those fortunate to not endure something publicly, and for those who are involved, they are humiliated and shunned."

"Evelina, darling, you worry so about the fortunes of others. I am not celebrating anybody's downfall. I only wish to remain updated about the happenings around the square. It is absolutely riveting social commentary!"

Lady Fernwell was a woman in her forties with the blonde hair that Evelina had inherited. She had it pinned up in the shape of what Veronica could only see as a pinecone from that of an autumnal tree. She leaned on a cane that enhanced the swish of her hips. Evelina said her mother thought it a fashion choice rather than a true aid.

The older woman gracefully let herself sink into a deep-seated armchair and placed the gossip sheet on the table, reading silently. Evelina gave Veronica a look of wicked intent.

"Mama, I do think you should read the sheet out loud to prove just how riveting it is. Perhaps then Veronica and I shall understand your excitement for it."

Lady Fernwell glanced up to her daughter first before she regarded Veronica and hesitated. "I cannot possibly."

There is something about me in there , Veronica realized. Lady Fernwell always greets me kindly with excitement and is not usually so hesitant. She enjoys attention.

"It is quite all right, Lady Fernwell," Veronica assured her, nodding. "Please read it aloud."

Lady Fernwell still looked unsure but lifted the sheet up and cleared her throat.

" The ton is still abuzz with the absence of Lord Robert Grantham, who seems to have cast his net far too distantly to reel it back in. The question remains of his whereabouts, but most important, the question of the Grantham heir is posed. Soon, a new heir will need to be named. And then, people of the ton, I must ask: what will happen to Lady Grantham and Lady Veronica when that unfortunate instance happens? And it ? —"

"Mama, perhaps that is enough reading for the day?" Evelina interrupted. Veronica did not miss the way the young woman's eyes flashed at her mama, who pretended not to notice.

Lady Fernwell looked askance at Veronica, who merely lifted her chin, showing her mettle. "It is quite all right," she said. "Go ahead. People are already speaking of it, I know that. I might as well hear what they are saying."

Lady Fernwell gave her daughter a somewhat smug look before continuing.

" If this were not terrible enough, there seems to be more rumors among London's finest circles that involve a certain widow and one Lord Barwicke. Some reports speak of the Lord's nightly escapades in and out of Grantham House, and it is most scandalous indeed! Who knew the Lord had a penchant for leaping over gates as fine as a racehorse ? — "

"Mama!" Evelina cried, interrupted her once more. "You must stop reading. That is enough!"

The parlor was silent as Lady Fernwell trailed off, covering her mouth. Veronica sat stock-still, not even the clink of a teacup any longer enough to pull her from her reverie. A hand closed over hers and squeezed.

Evelina looked at her apologetically, her face caught in a wince.

Veronica shook her head. She knew that these things would be discussed, and the topic of a new heir was something she had deeply buried away. Of course, it would be gossip. The sheet only asked what she was not willing to. And of that of her mother…

It pained her for her mother to be under such scrutiny, but it embarrassed her to know that the gossip sheet had discovered the goings-on far sooner than Veronica might have, if the author had reason to believe Lord Barwicke's appearance had been a frequent thing.

And it had happened right under her own nose.

Evelina turned to her mother, her face set in grim displeasure, likely about to tell her mother to stop reading, but Lady Fernwell was already continuing.

Veronica's face pinched in distress as she kept thinking to herself: who will be the next Grantham heir?

And what would happen to Veronica and her mother?

" And of course, there is the mention of one of the most eligible bachelors of the season ," Lady Fernwell was still reading, " the Duke of Westley, whose coldness might just form a barrier of icicles around him to protect him from the pushy mamas, all vying for their daughters to become the next Duchess of Westley. "

Veronica's focus came back to her. "The Duke of Westley?" she asked, recalling the name. "He has returned for the season?"

Lady Fernwell smiled as she looked up from the sheet. "It seems so. The sheet says that His Grace has left his countryside estate of Westley Manor and has returned to his Dalton Square residence, Turner Hall. Oh, do imagine the undoubtedly eager visitors that shall flock, all hoping to make an impression! Although, if he wishes to find a wife, he should first put aside that wretched, cold heart of his. His face was rather poisoned by vicious rumors of a cold heart, they say."

"I think His Grace should not be set up for failure before he has had a chance to prove himself," Evelina piped up, her voice bright. "He will have many hopeful debutantes and eligible ladies of the ton to choose from."

"Then they ought to be wary," Lady Fernwell sighed. "For he is surely not seeking a love match but one of advantage. I do believe he is the type of man to only consider exchanges a transaction, and he only does with coin."

"His Grace is a businessman, I believe!" Evelina answered. "You have made him sound like he seeks out ladies of the night."

"Undoubtedly, he does," Veronica couldn't help commenting.

It was common knowledge that any eligible man at any season ball did. To turn a blind eye was the best thing, and to hope for otherwise was rather foolish — especially with a rich, single bachelor such as the Duke.

"Veronica," Evelina said, turning away from her meddlesome mama. "His Grace worked with Robert, did he not? They were friends, surely. Acquaintances, at least."

Veronica winced. "I am unsure how to label them, but I do sincerely hope they were friends. For Robert was— is —jovial and friendly, and after my father's death three years ago, I believe he could do with a friend."

Evelina nodded. "Perhaps the Duke might know of Robert's whereabouts."

Veronica's hope rose. She had already considered such a possibility and now realized it was more realistic than she had thought.

She needed to seek out the Duke at his London residence as soon as she could. He would know her brother's last whereabouts. A business transaction gone wrong, surely. He would have every bit of information Veronica and her mother would need.

Lady Fernwell laughed happily, startling Veronica from her silence. "Oh, how lovely, the sheet mentions my ball next week!" She cleared her throat.

" All shall be foretold at the dazzling ball that Lady Fernwell shall host to mark the start of the season. It always proves to be a delightful affair ."

Lady Fernwell frowned. " Delightful ?" Her tone had a slight pout to it. "Is that all that could be afforded for my grand hosting?"

"Delightful is very good, Mama," Evelina assured her quickly. "It is not generally good to be mentioned in those gossip sheets. You ought to be thankful that is the only thing it mentions and not some cruel twist of a compliment that is somehow both nice sounding but bad in meaning." She paused, as if realizing that Veronica and her mother had been mentioned in the sheet. "Veronica, are you quite all right?"

"Indeed," she answered, a bright smile on her face as she concocted a plan. "In fact, I am better than I have found myself in quite some time."

"Excellent," Lady Fernwell said, insinuating herself into their conversation. "How did you find the gossip sheet, I dare ask? Was it riveting ?"

"Positively so," Veronica told her with a beaming smile, quite possibly her first genuine smile in a while.

Evelina merely dismissed her mother, rolling her eyes behind her back. "Mama, you take too much notice of gossip."

"These gossip sheets to us are what the Bible is to a preacher, dearest," Lady Fernwell sighed, fanning herself with the piece of paper. "I must know all about the ton , especially ahead of my soiree."

"Mama!" Evelina admonished. "You simply cannot blaspheme in such ways!"

As the two squabbled, Veronica sipped her tea.

I have been struck with an idea , she thought. One that will finally help me find my brother .