“Is that all you do?”
His gaze snapped to where she waited in the doorway. “Are you going to stand there, or are you going to come in?”
“Am I being invited into the sanctuary?” Tone all honeyed innocence, she paired it with her most beguiling smile.
“Sanctuary?” He put the papers down and motioned her forward. “I suppose it is. Regardless, I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”
Taking a seat across from him, she studied his face.
Mouth tight, brows drawn together to form the faintest of creases between them, he shuffled the papers on his desk.
An uncomfortable shiver ran down her spine. “Is it your father?”
“No, thank goodness. Mother wrote and said he’s feeling much better, although he complains about Ashton’s concoction.” Hepaused and ruffled through the papers again. “No, it’s about that rag,The Muckraker.
Heaviness settled in her stomach. “What has it said now?”
“It’s not what it’s said that I wish to discuss. However, there was a report about us that arrived here before we did, and I’m curious as to how the person responsible for the paper got wind of it. My sister mentioned some group she’s organized to investigate the culprit.”
“The League, yes. We have some suspects, but none of them were at the house party. Could your parents have said something in passing before they came for the wedding?”
“Unlikely, especially given they weren’t in London.”
“Burwood’s Aunt Kitty lives in London. You don’t think she?—”
He waved it aside. “I refuse to believe that. She would never do anything that would harm Burwood or those he loves.”
Anne slumped in her chair.She doesn’t likeme.
“Put that out of your mind, Anne. The countess spoke to me before we left and wished us well. Said she thought we were perfect for each other.” He gave her a wry smile.
“I suppose it’s not her.” A horrible thought crossed her mind, and she sat straighter. “Mother, Arthur, and Lavinia came from Kent. Would they have stopped in London?”
“Doubtful. And surely you don’t suspect your own mother?”
“Not Mother. Lavinia. She loves gossip.”
“But you’re her sister-in-law.” Colin sounded incredulous.
“That wouldn’t stop Lavinia. She’s never liked me.”
Anne didn’t want to think her sister-in-law was responsible, but she would bring it up to the League when they met again.
“There is another possibility.” His gaze met hers. Steady. Serious.
“If you tell me what it said, perhaps that will give me a clue.”
His gaze slid away, and once more he fumbled with the papers before him. “It was unkind. I don’t wish to repeat it.”
She gave a dry laugh. “The Muckrakeris always unkind. Its nastiness is what sets it apart from the other gossip rags. Really, Colin, how do you expect me to help if you won’t tell me?”
“It implied you trapped me. No one other than those present knew about the service closet.”
“You think it’s someone who was already at the house party?” The pit in Anne’s stomach grew heavier at the thought that one of their friends could have betrayed them.
“We should consider it.” A flicker of concern flashed in his eyes, and he clarified. “Not necessarily one of the guests, but possibly a servant. Most are loyal and discreet, but some have been known to share private information for a price.”
“Joan, my maid, doesn’t gossip. Perhaps one of the other lady’s maids or valets? I can bring it up at the League’s next meeting.”
