Smith looked up at him, his eyes narrow. “Who occupies the property?”
“A woman, a friend, along with her maid.”
That blue-eyed gaze did not waver. “Her name?”
“Stella Ashley.”
“The actress?”
“Yes.”
“And you were with her last night?”
Matthew bristled. “Now look here, Smith—”
Mark put a hand on Matthew’s arm. “No. It’s fine. Our arrangement was not exactly a secret.”
“Was?” Smith’s eyebrows arched.
He nodded at the runner. “Yes. I was there briefly, around midnight. I ended the arrangement. And I asked her to move elsewhere.”
Smith hesitated, glancing down at the paper again, then back up to Mark. “Youended it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mark tried to stand a bit straighter, although his ribs did not approve. “I—she—Miss Ashley has found another protector. I am not interested in sharing her affections.”
“Was the parting amicable?”
Mark’s gut began to ache. He did not like where this conversation was headed. “As reasonably as could be expected. She continued to shout at me as I departed. Her maid could attest to that. The girl and I spoke as I left.”
The runner paused, his mouth tightening. “So Miss Ashley was still alive when you left?”
Oh, dear God.The numbness that had consumed Mark’s mind now spread over his body with a chilled flush. He staggered backward. Matthew grabbed his arm to steady him as Mark whispered. “What do you mean... ‘still alive’?”
Smith folded the paper and tucked it away. “Miss Ashley is deceased. Her maid found her body in the back garden this afternoon. She had been strangled.”
*
Monday, 18 July 1814
Hyde Park, London
Half-past three in the afternoon
Judith paused andclosed her eyes, relishing the warmth of the sun’s unexpected glory. Clouds had hung low and heavy over the city earlier in the day, but now the sweet rays from above warmed her through the silk of her golden yellow gown and the soft linen of her chemise. She had donned tawny-colored boots of fine kid leather, which matched the straw of her bonnet with its yellow ribbons dangling strategically around her face and down her back. Another gown carefully refurbished by her modiste; the bright color of the silk had been augmented by delicate medallions of green embroidered on the puffed sleeves, around the hem, and on the backs of her matching gloves. She felt as golden as the day.
Judith had left the curricle to stroll along the Serpentine, soaking in the summer beauty of the park. In the height of the season, depending on the path chosen, a stroll could mean either the overwhelming fragrances of flowers or the scents of horses, trampled grass, and dust. Slow, soft breezes brought along the laughter of children or calls of friends. Judith smiled at the knotsof children racing back and forth between their nannies and the water’s edge, where ducks and geese gathered, begging to be fed.
“Do you think Nanny brings William and Robbie to see the birds?”
Epworth, stepping closer to stroll at her side, nodded. “I believe she brings William quite often. Robbie, less so now that Mr. Thompson is preparing him for Eton.”
Judith sighed, whispering, “Too soon.”
“Mr. Thompson does say that both Master Robert and Master George are exceptional in their studies. Scholarly even.”
