“Lady Kimpton?”
Something waved beneath her nose, and she jerked her head back, groaning.
“Please, Lady Kimpton. My sincerest apologies. That was most unthoughtful of me.”
Lorelei struggled to sitting, mortified by her undignified position. “What happened?” A lock of hair draped against her temple. She pushed it off her face, but it sprang back.
Concern emanated from Lady Alymer. She had a kind face and a shock of ginger-colored hair. She was young, early twenties, and had recently come out of mourning from a husband who was almost thrice her age.
“You fainted,” Lady Dankworth said. “’Twas a shocking revelation Lady Alymer dropped on us.” She pointed to Lady Faulk, who lay back against a rose-colored chair, eyes closed. “Alas, you were not the only one.” She glared at Lady Alymer. “Maeve, how could you?”
A cold shiver raced up Lorelei’s spine as Lady Alymer’s words stormed her memory. “Did you s-say Lord Harlowe’s valet was m-murdered?”Marcus?
“I’m terribly sorry to have blurted the news out like that. It momentarily slipped my mind that Lord Harlowe was… er…isyour brother.” Lady Alymer’s eyes shone with tears that seemed genuine enough.
“Might I have another drop of tea, Lady Peachornsby?” Lorelei’s words were shaky at best.
Lady Dankworth turned on Lady Aylmer. “Where on earth did you hear such a thing?” It occurred to Lorelei that Lady Alymer had indeed whipped the proverbial rug from beneath Lady Dankworth.
“Yes,” Lorelei said. “I should like to know that as well.” She accepted the refilled cup from Lady Peachornsby and warmed her chilled fingers.
“Why, my maid mentioned it this morning. She said it was—” Lady Alymer stilled, her cheeks matching the darkest pink in the wallpaper.
“Was what?” This from Lady Smythe. She was a very tall, painfully thin woman. Her pointed nose was long and tended to draw one’s gaze to her less than full lips. In point of fact, they were as thin as she was tall.
Lorelei’s cup clattered against the saucer on which she placed it, her fingers shaking badly. “Yes, Lady Alymer. Said it was what?” Her voice came out hardly above a whisper. “W-was my b-brother there as well?”
“No! No, Lady Kimpton. Rest assured Lord Harlowe was not present.”
“How could he be?” Lady Smythe said, her nose wrinkling in confusion. “He was dropped on a ship bound for Spain by none other than Lord Kimp—” She stopped, as did the entire company. She dotted her lace handkerchief over her forehead. “Oh. Dear me. I-I’m terribly sorry, Lady Kimpton.”
Lorelei mustered every ounce of steel within and faced the woman. “Quite so, Lady Smythe. That is the rumor, is it not?” Lady Peachornsby touched her hands, wrapping her fingers about another cup of the bracing tea. She smiled her thanks and turned to Lady Almer. “Please, my lady, continue,” she said softly.
Lady Almer gave a hesitant nod. “Gruesome. She said it was gruesome.”
“How did she learn of this?” Lady Dankworth demanded again.
“She said the valet was her cousin’s beau,” she whispered. “Only last night, her cousin was questioned by the constable. She also said”—Lady Alymer swallowed, a sound that seemed to echo throughout the pink parlor—“Lord Kimpton was summoned to identify his body.”
“Pray explain what you mean by ‘gruesome,’ if you please.” Lorelei could hardly choke out the words. “I’m certain I don’t understand…” The sick sensation knotted through her stomach. If Brandon was indeed on a ship bound for Spain, why was his home not closed, his valet not relieved of his duties?
“She said his quarters were d-destroyed.” Lady Alymer’s freckles were stark against her pale countenance.
Lorelei’s vision swam as if she were going to faint again. She willed it back, taking quick shallow breaths. “Destroyed? By what means?”
Lady Alymer glanced about her small audience, clearly mortified to find herself in such a position.
“It was said his bedchamber and studio were—”
“Were what?”
“Slashed with a k-knife. No picture left untouched, paint smearing the walls…” Her voice trailed off.
“Have more tea, dear,” Lady Peachornsby said.
Lorelei lifted the cup gratefully, but Lady Peachornsby wrapped her fingers about Lorelei’s in an effort to help her steadiness. With another healthy sip, Lorelei could feel her muscles giving way. In fact, they were beginning to feel quite heavy, her stomach queasy. “Perhaps I-I should return home. I fear I am not as recovered as I’d first believed.” A dull throb beat against her temple.
Lady Dankworth stood and moved across the room. “Please send for Lady Kimpton’s carriage.”
