“One of them being that I’ve heard some very unsavory rumors about the family,” interjected Cordelia.
“Yes.” Alison gave a grim nod. “I’ve heard those rumors, too.”
Charlotte waited. The dowager’s knowledge of aristocratic families—and what skeletons were hidden in the darkest nooks and crannies of their stately manor houses—was encyclopedic. If there was any truth to the whispers of scandal, she would know about it.
Alison took a small swallow of champagne. “There’s no question that Lord Taviot’s younger brother—a half-brother from the old earl’s second marriage—was rotten to the core.” She brushed away an errant drop as it slid down the glass. “Though over the years I have come to believe that it’s unfair to condemn a whole family for the actions of one member. Even the best of trees occasionally produces a bad apple.”
Cordelia remained silent.
“As for the whispers about Lady Kirkwall’s husband . . .” The dowager paused for a moment of thought. “Lord Kirkwall denied any wrongdoing, and if memory serves me correctly . . .”
Charlotte was sure that it did.
“He announced that he was going to prove his innocence by showing evidence that someone else was responsible.” Alison blew out her breath. “But then he apparently shot himself—or was terribly clumsy when cleaning his pistol—and whatever the truth, it went to the grave with him.”
“So, it’s a family shadowed by lurid speculation,” mused Charlotte.
“Where there is smoke, there is often fire,” interjected Cordelia. “But then, I confess that I simply don’t like them.”
“Now you’ve piqued my curiosity,” said Alison. “I shall make some inquiries and see whether I uncover any further details or additional scandals.”
“Please do it with all haste.” Cordelia set aside her wine. “They have already raised a great of deal of money. If there are any skeletons buried in the family cupboard, it would be best to unearth them now.”
Her eyes narrowed. “To ensure that a great many people don’t get burned if the devil’s hellfire is lurking behind their patrician smiles.”
“Let us be careful to keep an open mind on the Taviot family,” counseled Charlotte, intent on not letting her friend’s raw emotion color their judgment. “We are looking to learn the truth, whether or not it conforms to our preconceptions.”
Cordelia bit her lip and looked away for a moment. “Getting back to facts, rather than mere conjecture, Lady Kirkwall has just announced that she and her brother will hold a gala reception for potential investors next week, during which they will be making a momentous announcement.”
“Yes—I’ve been invited,” said Alison.
Cordelia’s brows shot up in surprise.
“Alison chatted with Lady Kirkwall at the Bluestocking soiree,” explained Charlotte. “And is now considered a potential investor. I shall be going with her.” She watched the festive lanterns in the distance, their red-gold flames dancing over the dark stone terrace of Carlton House. “Let us hope the consortium’s revelations will shed more light on their objectives.”
“Kit has been invited as well,” said Cordelia tightly. “He did not ask me—”
A small sound behind their bench suddenly caused her to twist around and peer into the shadows.
“Good evening, ladies.” Kurlansky stepped into the aureole of light cast by the pathway torchieres and inclined a polite bow. “What a splendid night for fireworks.”
Charlotte clenched her teeth on seeing the spark of unholy amusement in the Russian’s eyes. She was beginning to think of him as a thorn in her arse.
“Though,” he added with a sly smile, I would have thought that your Prince Regent had had enoughSturm und Drangduring the Peace Celebrations.”
Charlotte regarded him with a cool stare. “As an island nation we are quite used to storm and stress and are experienced in dealing with it.” She paused. “You see, we know it always blows over, so we think of it as naught but entertainment.”
His smile stretched a touch wider. “Your perspective on things is always illuminating, Lady Wrexford.”
“And how is your task for the tsar going?” she countered.
“Oh, I won’t bore you with trifling diplomatic matters,” replied Kurlansky. “Especially as you ladies look to be having an interesting tête-à-tête. I merely wanted to pay my respects, so I’ll let you get back to your conversation.”
Another bow. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”
The dowager scowled as she watched him turn toward the lake and slip away into the darkness. “He reminds me of a stalking panther. All deadly grace and elegance when he’s not hungry, but heaven forfend if you stand between him and his prey.”
Cordelia narrowed her eyes. “Should we be worried about him?”
