“I’d enjoy that. And you, Phyllida?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Then I’ll pick you up by carriage at a quarter to seven.”

“Are we having dinner at your home, Sir Henry?”

“Yes. I’m throwing a small dinner party and then we’ll go on to the theater.”

“Wonderful.” I’d received a heaven-sent opportunity to search his study during dinner. If the thief had passed the plans to Sir Henry, this might be my best chance of recovering them.

Once Sir Henry left, Phyllida and I were to travel by hired carriage to the homes of several women. We’d drop off our calling cards to announce my arrival, as Georgina Monthalf, widow of Mr. Edgar Monthalf, newly arrived from the colonies. Hopefully, the interest that both the Duke of Blackford and Sir Henry Stanford had shown in Mrs. Monthalf would already be making the rounds of afternoon gossip.

“We’ve been invited to stop by Lady Ormond’s this afternoon,” Phyllida said as she settled herself on the scorching black leather seat in the carriage.

“Was she at the musical evening at Lord Francis’s?” The lowered windows let in more heat than they allowed to escape.

“Yes. She was the most awful gossip thirty-five years ago when she was Lady Mildred Fessent. From the way she was studying you and the duke before she invited us to stop by today, I’d guess she’ll be hunting for more details to pass around London.”

Phyllida gave me the address and I passed it on to the driver. Traffic was slow moving in the heat and it took us five minutes to arrive at the Ormonds’ unremarkable town house in the middle of a block near our new home.

We climbed out of the carriage and walked our calling cards up to the door. A young footman answered, held out a silver tray for us to put our cards on, and had us wait in the hall. He climbed a flight of stairs with the tray to the main parlor. As soon as he was out of sight, Phyllida said, “He’s barely out of the nursery.”

“Perhaps he’s just begun his training,” I suggested, looking around the empty hallway, where old framed silhouettes decorated otherwise bare walls.

“Mildred always fought a battle between having everything perfect and being miserly. At his age, his wages would be minimal. I guess miserly won out.” Phyllida shook her head.

I didn’t get a chance to warn her to keep quiet before the rapid steps on the stairs proclaimed the boy’s arrival. “Her ladyship is this way.”

We followed at a sedate pace and walked into a parlor full of statues. Busts covered every table. A full-sized Greek maiden stood between two windows. A piece of a frieze stood in a corner. After we finished our round of curtsies, I asked, “Are you a collector?”

“Not me. My late husband. He shipped them back from Italy and Greece when he was a young man. Aren’t they lovely?”

“They are,” Phyllida said. “Thank you for inviting us today, Lady Mildred. I’m so happy to have dear Georgina here so I can introduce her to all my friends.”

“It’s lovely for you to have family around you again, after—” Lady Ormond gave a sniff as if something smelled bad.

“And I’m so happy to finally get to see London,” I added with a big smile.

“You weren’t presented at court?” Lady Ormond asked, the beginnings of horror etched on her voice.

“No. I went overseas to join my father before I would have been presented. I married overseas and lived there until my husband died.” Phyllida and I had never completely organized my story, and I was starting to worry.

“What did he die of?” Lady Ormond asked as she handed me a cup of tea.

“A fever.”

“So common in the colonies, I’ve heard.” There was that sniff of distaste again.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“How did you get back in touch again?” Lady Ormond was a born inquisitor.

“Who said we were ever out of touch?” Phyllida asked in a haughty tone I’d seldom heard, reminding both Lady Ormond and myself that she was the daughter of an earl.

Lady Ormond gave her a brief smile and turned her beady-eyed attention on me. “Tell me about the Duke of Blackford when he was in India. It’s a period of time he doesn’t discuss often.”

“Then perhaps I need to honor what appear to be his wishes and not say anything,” I replied with a smile. “Do you live in London year-round, or do you spend part of the year at the Ormond family estate?”

“The current Lord Ormond and I find time spent apart suits us both. As he rarely leaves the countryside, I find the London home quite satisfactory. Have you found living halfway around the world a solution to any troubles you have with whoever inherited your late husband’s estate?”

“I inherited.” I smiled and took a sip of tea.

“One of the perks of marrying a businessman,” Phyllida said with a hint of a smirk. “No entailments.”

Lady Ormond gave a smile as weak as her tea. “Are you planning to spend much time in the Duke of Blackford’s company?”

“That rather depends on the duke, don’t you think?”

“Is he planning a country house party to celebrate your renewed acquaintance?”

Dear heavens, the woman was nosy. Fortunately, there was a ritual about these visits that required us to leave after a short time. Otherwise, I would have struggled not to run screaming out of Lady Ormond’s parlor during this inquisition. I tried a neutral “I have no idea.”

Then, when it was time to leave, Lady Ormond said, “What a shame your cousin Clara didn’t survive to see you arrive in London.”

“You knew my husband’s cousin Clara Gattenger?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as eager as I felt. As a gossip, I couldn’t trust Lady Ormond’s remarks, but there might be a nugget in there.

“Not well. She didn’t go out much in society, burdened as she was with a husband who was neither titled nor wealthy.”

“I heard his ship designs were brilliant.”

“That may well be, but how often can you design a ship? They only need one design to build many ships. The Gattengers were short of money, and Clara was getting tired of doing without.”

I could hardly wait to get out of Lady Ormond’s house to ask Phyllida if the Gattengers were in financial trouble.

Her response to my question in the cab was a mulish “Kenny would never have killed Clara. Not for all the money in the world.”

I kept my doubts to myself and said, “I didn’t say he would, but could he have been involved in something that led to another person coming into the study and killing Clara? Were they short of money?”

Phyllida gave a sniff and said, “They were the happiest of couples.” Her stiff-necked gaze out the opposite window told me I’d get nothing more from her.

Mercifully, we only left our cards at our second stop, since the lady was not at home. Whether she was truly out visiting or lying down to escape the heat, I couldn’t guess. I did feel certain I hadn’t offended anyone yet and so wasn’t being snubbed.

As luck would have it, at our third stop, Lady Bennett was receiving callers in her drawing room. Since Clara Gattenger had spent the last afternoon of her life with Lady Bennett and came back “ready to do murder,” in the words of her maid, I looked forward to this encounter.

Years of training hadn’t deserted Phyllida, and I took my hints from her. She waited in the doorway for the footman to announce us, and then she strolled across the room to our hostess. I followed, staring at our hostess.

The closer I moved to Lady Bennett, the better looking she appeared. Perhaps over forty, she had been gifted with creamy skin, fair hair, wide blue eyes, and the money to dress in a style that best suited her taste and her figure. I have freckles, unruly reddish hair, and seldom any money to waste on clothes. In short, she was a woman I instinctively disliked.

“Lady Bennett, I’m Lady Phyllida Monthalf. I’m glad we called on your at-home day. I’m introducing my cousin’s widow, Mrs. Edgar Monthalf, to London society. Mrs. Monthalf has just returned from the colonies.” We both curtsied.