She remained cautious, of course. Given her dark past, she could not afford to become too close to anyone. Nevertheless, she had been unable to resist taking an instant liking to Clarice. It had been so long since she’d had a friend who was close to her own age. Navigating the waters of friendship was a treacherous proposition when one carried a terrible secret.

“We are happy to see Anthony taking an interest in you because we have been so worried about him,” Clarice explained. “Last year, after his fiancée died, he became absolutely obsessed with the notion that she was murdered. It affected his mood for weeks. We all became quite alarmed, to be honest.”

“I see.”

Clarice absently twirled her parasol. “We thought he had gotten over it after he was forced to abandon his inquiries last year, but when he suddenly renewed his investigation a couple of weeks ago we realized that he was as committed as ever to his theory that Fiona was murdered. Then we heard the rumors about the two of you. Mama and Papa became extremely hopeful. Indeed, I did, as well.”

“Good heavens.”

“Now that we have had occasion to see the two of you together, it is obvious that the gossip is true and that is why we are all so delighted to make your acquaintance today.”

“I’m not sure I follow your reasoning,” Louisa said warily. “My connection to your brother actually is founded upon a business arrangement. As he explained to you, I am assisting him in his investigation. When it is concluded, I plan to write a report for the Flying Intelligencer.”

“Yes, of course.” Clarice gave her a warm smile. “I’m sure that it will be an excellent piece of journalism. But it is also obvious that you and Anthony have formed an intimate connection, and we couldn’t be happier. It is good to see him looking at a woman the way he looks at you.”

Louisa sighed. “You feared his heart was broken when Fiona died. Now you believe that he is at least willing to allow himself to be distracted by another female, but I really don’t think you should leap to any conclusions about the nature of his feelings for me.”

“Rubbish.” Clarice laughed. “There is no other obvious explanation for the improvement in his mood.”

“Maybe he is more cheerful these days because he feels he is close to solving the mystery of Fiona’s death.”

“That may be part of it, but I still suspect that you are the main cause of his elevated spirits.”

“I really do not think so,” Louisa said weakly.

“Come now, Mrs. Bryce. You do not give yourself enough credit. I assure you, my brother would never have brought you here to have tea with Mama and Papa if he was not enamored of you.”

Louisa stopped abruptly, horrified. “I assure you, your brother is not in love with me.”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Bryce. You don’t have to pretend around this family. We are not like most of the people who move in Society. In this household, we are all quite straightforward.”

“Forgive me, but I fear that all those thrilling plays you write for the Olympia Theater have affected your imagination.”

Clarice nodded somewhat wistfully. “I admit that I do find the notion of illicit affairs very intriguing. I insert at least one into every play.”

“I have seen several of your plays. While they are marvelously entertaining, I cannot help but note that the illicit affairs always end badly.”

Clarice grimaced. “That is only because the audiences and the critics demand such endings. Mind you, they are all quite keen to savor the excitement of illicit affairs on stage, but they feel they can only justify their pleasure if the affairs come to unfortunate conclusions.”

“I see.” Louisa exhaled deeply and resumed walking slowly along the path. “It is the same way in novels.”

“Indeed. Literary conventions and critics can have a very restrictive effect on art,” Clarice said with a sage air.

“Do you think that if the conventions and critics did not exist it would be possible to write a play or a novel in which the illicit affair ended happily?”

“Of course,” Clarice said.

Louisa stopped again and looked at her.

“Well?” she said eagerly. “How would it conclude?”

Clarice waved a hand. “Why, the lovers would get married, naturally.”

“Hmm.”

Clarice raised her brows. “You don’t like that ending?”

“I believe I see a problem with your logic.”

“What is that?”

“If the lovers were to marry, the relationship would no longer be illicit, would it?”

Clarice frowned. “I see what you mean. Still, marriage is the only conceivable happy ending for an illicit liaison, is it not?”

“I suppose so.”

And, in her case, an impossible ending, Louisa thought.

ANTHONY STOOD at the window, hands clasped behind his back. His mother stood on one side, his father on the other. They all watched Louisa and Clarice stroll through the garden.

“Those two appear to be getting on quite well,” Marcus announced. He looked pleased. “I must say, I like your Mrs. Bryce. Fascinating young woman.”

“I told you that she was somewhat out of the ordinary,” Anthony said.

Marcus chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Indeed you did, and you have seldom been more accurate in your description of a lady.”

“Those two do make a pretty picture walking in the sunlight with their parasols unfurled, don’t they?” Georgiana observed. She gave Anthony a sidelong glance. “Your Mrs. Bryce was widowed rather young, wasn’t she?”

“That does appear to be the case,” he said carefully.

“Interesting career she has fashioned for herself,” Marcus said. “No wonder she and Clarice hit it off so well. They have a lot in common.”

“I wonder what they are talking about out there,” Georgiana said. “Whatever it is, they both seem very intent on their subject.”

“Gardening, perhaps,” Anthony suggested, although he doubted it.

The tension in Louisa’s shoulders warned him that the conversation had veered toward the personal.

34

Anthony took her home an hour later. Her silence in the carriage made him uneasy, but his attempts at conversation failed. Louisa seemed lost in her thoughts.

No one opened the door when they went up the steps of the town house. He watched Louisa remove a key from her muff. He took the key from her and opened the door. “Where is everyone?”

“This is the staff’s afternoon off.” Louisa walked into the front hall, untying her bonnet strings. “Emma is at her Garden Society meeting. No one will be back for hours.”

He followed her into the hall. “I see.”

She looked at him as though uncertain what to do with him now that he was inside the house.

“Will you come into the study, sir?” she asked.

His spirits rose immediately. “Thank you.”

She hung her bonnet on a peg and led the way down the hall. “I think we should compare notes concerning our investigation. I have been thinking about some information that I acquired early on before you and I became partners.”

So much for his hopes. She was not inviting him into the study because she wanted his company. She planned to discuss the damned investigation.

“Of course,” he said. He followed her down the hall and into the study. “But first I have a question for you.”

“What is that?” she asked, crossing the small room to her desk.

“You and Clarice spent a great deal of time in the garden. What were you talking about?”

“Your sister is very nice.” Louisa sat behind the desk. She removed her spectacles and began to polish them with a handkerchief. “I liked her.”

“I’m glad.” He went to stand in front of the desk looking down at her. “She seemed quite taken with you, too, but that does not answer my question. She pressed you about the nature of our relationship, didn’t she?”