I stared at her. “You are making all of that up. You are quite drunk. Give me the champagne.”
She snatched up the bottle and held it out of my grasp. “I am not making it up. It was most entertaining. And profitable,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eye. “I managed to blackmail Bellmont into giving me a tidy little sum of money by threatening to tell Adelaide he was a member.”
“Never!” I did not imagine that Portia would scruple at a little good-natured extortion within the family. What shocked me was the idea that our eldest brother might actually have done something worth concealing.
“Do not let me shatter your illusions, dearest. Monty is lilywhite, I promise. But you know what a Polly Puritan Adelaide is. If there had been a breath of scandal touching Monty she never would have married him. I thought it might be amusing to touch him for a little pocket money. Fool that he was, he paid me.”
“Portia, that is disgraceful. How much?”
She flashed me a smile. “I shall never tell. Suffice it to say that my domination over him came to an end when he discovered me in a compromising position with Daphne Pascoe.”
“No! I thought that Jane was…that is to say, I did not realize…” I struggled to find the proper vocabulary. My attempts at tact sent Portia off into gales of laughter.
“My poor sweet, my life does not fit very easily into the proper pattern, does it?”
I shook my head. “No. But then none of ours has.”
She shifted Puggy comfortably on her lap. “Oh, I don’t know about that. You did what we were supposed to. You married your childhood sweetheart, lived in a quiet house in a quiet street, going to quiet parties, wearing—”
“Yes, I have got that. Quiet clothes. How depressing you make it all sound. Well, I mean to make a proper scandal of myself just as soon as I have the chance. In fact, I may have already begun. I was quite thoroughly rude to Doctor Griggs this week.”
Portia gave me a pitying look. “My precious pet, you must do considerably more than snub that old fusspot to atone for a decade of normalcy.”
“It is a beginning,” I replied mildly, thinking of all I had not told her. “At least it is a beginning.”
THE THIRTY-THIRD CHAPTER
The proclamation made for May,
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying;
But, my Corinna, come, let’s go a-Maying.
—Robert Herrick
“Corinna’s Going A-Maying”
The next day Morag brought the early post with my tea. Propped against the silver teapot was an envelope, thick and creamy, covered with a deep black scroll of now-familiar handwriting. I slit the seal with my butter knife.
My lady,
I have met with the proprietress of the establishment in question. This lady, Miss Sally Simms, declined to offer any useful information on the grounds of client confidentiality. I was only able to confirm that the box had been in her possession at one time, and that items of that type are usually given as tokens of esteem to clients of note. She declined to say whether this touched Sir Edward, and suggested that it was possible that the box passed through many hands before coming into his possession through quite innocent means. I will pursue this matter further, but at present I am obliged to leave for Paris on a matter of business. I shall write again upon my return, which I anticipate will be in five or six days—certainly less than a week. In the meantime, I must emphasize that you are not to involve yourself in this investigation in any capacity.
Yours sincerely,
Nicholas Brisbane
Morag was bustling about the room, humming to herself. I resisted the urge to crumple up the letter and throw it at her. If I did not know his hand so well, I would have hardly believed him the author of this missive. It was cool and arrogant and pedantic—very like his manner when we first met, but I had thought, hoped, that we had progressed beyond this. I was thoroughly annoyed with him, not least for scampering off to Paris when we clearly had unfinished business in London. Sally Simms, indeed!
Pouting, I munched a piece of toast and considered my course of action. I could maunder about the house as I had been doing, or I could get out into the town and pay a few calls, refreshing myself and keeping well out of trouble until Brisbane’s return. Irritated as I might be, I had no desire to call down that temper on my head. I would wait patiently until his return, then call upon him and sweetly press my case. I had little doubt that his abrupt departure for Paris was due in large part to his vexation with me. So be it. I would win back his good favor by following his instructions, much as they chafed, and clearing up a few little mysteries of my own. I would confront Valerius at dinner and force him to tell me the truth about his antics. And in the meantime, I would find out what was in Madame de Bellefleur’s mysterious, luscious rose salve….
She received me with all the warmth and charm I had come to expect, throwing open her arms and enfolding me like an old friend.
“What a delicious surprise! I was perishing of loneliness, and here you are, an angel of mercy,” she said, tucking her arm through mine. She took me into the little parlor with its lovely bee-strewn upholstery. She rang for Therese to bring cakes and a delicately scented citrus drink that was lusciously cool, perfect for the sultry warmth of the morning.
“What weather we are having,” she commented as she handed me a plate stacked with tiny orange cakes. There was a candied violet sitting prettily on the top. “I was just telling Therese this morning how lovely it was going to be. Such heat for May Day!”
I looked at her, startled. “Is it May Day? How extraordinary. I had no idea.”
