“I must admit that I did not come today without reason. I am inquiring into the disappearance of my sister. Persephone Elderwood.”
Miss Forscythe’s face softened. “Of course. Persephone. Surely you received my flowers?”
A chill passed over her, and her hands stalled around her tea. A few bouquets had come from London after the papers reported Persephone’s death, but she hadn’t had time to read every sympathy card. And yet…
“I’m afraid there were so many flowers. Perhaps if you were to describe them…”
Miss Forscythe paused, then smiled again, never breaking her gaze. “Oh, well. I’m not sure I can recall. Whatever the florist put together. You understand.”
“Of course,” Elswyth said, in a measured tone. “I am still makingmy way through her letters. I did notice, however, that she was meant to be at your house on the night she disappeared. I believe your family was hosting a ball.”
“Yes, the Harvest Ball. When Persephone did not arrive, I sent a calling card the next morning. I admit I was rather cross she’d not shown. But by then Lord Devereux had already contacted the police. The whole thing was terrible, really. The whole city was on edge already, what with those dreadful murders. But for a daughter of the nobility to vanish like that, into thin air… Suffice it to say that it shook even the highest reaches of society. Especially those of us who knew her.”
Elswyth noted her mention of the Reaper; most noblewomen simply refused to acknowledge the murdered women, just as they refused to speak of Persephone. “You knew my sister well, then?”
Miss Forscythe smiled. “Well, of course. Had she never mentioned me in her letters?”
“Perhaps. I must have forgotten.”
“I mean, I make a point to know everyone, don’t I? But I should think that Persephone considered me a friend.”
“Is that so?”
“I would hope so. We attended almost every ball together.”
“I was under the impression that Persephone did not have many friends.”
Miss Forscythe sipped her tea, nodding. “I will say that your sister was a hard woman to get a hold of. She refused about half of the invitations I sent her on account of prior engagements. What those were, I can’t say. I enjoyed when I did see her, but I got the distinct impression she always had somewhere better to be. She disappeared before the end of every party; one can only speculate as to where.”
Elswyth’s brow furrowed. What did that mean? Persephonehad always loved parties. Why leave early? And she was a consummate social climber. Why refuse invitations from the daughter of a duke, someone certainly above her station?
“Did she say anything, anything at all, in the days before she disappeared? Anything out of sorts?”
Miss Forscythe set down her cup. “If I may be honest, we hadn’t spoken in weeks. She all but vanished, even before she went missing. Completely ignored my calling cards. I don’t know what had gotten into her, or if I did something to offend her, but none of our other friends heard from her, either. That wasn’t so strange for Persephone, of course. Like I said, she was rather mysterious. I thought perhaps she was upset that she hadn’t found a match during last year’s season, but it’s not as though she lacked options.”
“Suitors, you mean,” Elswyth said.
“My good friend Lord Forrester would have married her immediately, but she seemed wholly uninterested. I have no idea why she refused him. Lord Forrester is everything a girl could want in a husband: as rich as they come, and a marquess besides. It’s a pity, really. I suppose she thought she was holding out for something better.”
“I gather that is unusual, for someone rumored to be the diamond of the season.”
Miss Forscythe’s smile faltered—a rare lapse in her composure. “Well, some did say that, yes. But the diamond almostalwayswinds up with a favorable match. And well… Persephone wound up with nothing.”
Elswyth set down her tea and folded her hands in her lap. “Miss Forscythe, if I may be so bold, I should like to meet Lord Forrester and the rest of Persephone’s friends. I’m afraid I have not been introduced, and it would be improper to call upon them beforehand.”
Something flashed behind Miss Forscythe’s eyes. She smiled. “I would be happy to introduce you. Why, I’m having a small soirée next Saturday. I’ll make sure that Lord Forrester is there, and any of the other men who fancied her. I’ll invite the other young ladies who knew her as well. Would that be helpful?”
“Exceedingly. You’re too kind, Miss Forscythe. Most ladies have simply expressed their condolences and changed the subject. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Miss Forscythe smiled, teeth shining. “Nonsense. I only hope that we can be friends and put the nasty business of the hedge maze behind us. Why, for a trustworthy friend, there is nothing I would not do.”
“This is very bad,” Mrs. Rose said, pacing the floor of the laboratory. “Oh yes, this is very, very bad.”
“Why? I thought you’d be thrilled. I’m going to my first party,” Elswyth said. They sat in Dr. Gall’s greenhouse laboratory at the Royal Gardens, near Elswyth’s desk. Half-finished projects littered the wide workbench along with towers of books and scattered schematics. Against the nearby wall, where the glass panes shone with emerald daylight, was a second table covered in potted specimens. As they spoke, Elswyth dissected a cotton boll made from curious black fibers. She examined them through a pair of spectacles with multiple sets of magnifying lenses, noting the cotton’s almost metallic shine.
“Even if you were ready to attend a party—which you are not—this is not an innocent invitation. No, this Forscythe girl has too many reasons to want you out of the picture. There is a scheme here, and I know scheming.”
“She seemed rather straightforward about it. She wants to buy my silence by providing introductions to Persephone’s friends and suitors. It would seem like a mutually beneficial arrangement, no?”
