“Until tomorrow,” she said.
“Until tomorrow,” he repeated.
Without another word, they both set off on their separate ways…a fitting punctuation to the strangest, most unexpected, most unbelievable night of Rosemary’s life.
Chapter Ten
The next morning,Evie and Joanna were enjoying coffee and buttered toast on the stone terrace overlooking the gardens when Evie gave a loud shriek and leapt from her chair, sending the paper she’d been reading over the edge of the balcony.
“What?” Joanna exclaimed, startled. “What is it?”
“Rosemary,” said Evie, her eyes as wide as the saucers their porcelain teacups were sitting on. “It’s our cousin, Rosemary. She…she’s engaged.”
“But that’s wonderful news! Although I was not aware she was being courted by anyone. Still,” Joanna took a bite of bread and then dabbed at her mouth with a linen napkin, “these things can happen quite quickly. You and I should know that better than anyone. Who is she to marry? Not that I’d know him. You’re much more up to date on the who’s who of High Society than I am. Well? Out with it!”
“The…” Evie paused for dramatic effect. “Duke of Hanover.”
“Oh.Oh.” As comprehension dawned, Joanna slowly lowered her napkin. “Are you certain?”
She gave an indelicate snort. “Am I certain? It said so in black and white! Right in theLondon Callergossip column, which isneverwrong. Apparently, Hanover proposed to her last night at the Marigold Ball.”
“Wait.” Joanna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Weren’t you there?”
“No. Weston and I were supposed to go. But we had an afternoon, ah, appointment.” Her cheeks pinkening, Evie glanced down at her feet. “Followed by an evening appointment. And then a late night–”
“I get the idea.” Grimacing, Joanna held up her hand, palm facing outwards. “There should be a law against having to hear about the sexual practices of one’s sister and half-brother. It’s…icky.”
“Icky?” Evie said dubiously.
“Yes. Icky.”
“Why weren’t you and Kincaid at the ball? Weston made sure you received invitations.”
“We had to follow up on a lead for a case that we’re working. Besides, you know I’ve never enjoyed large functions and Kincaid would rather have his tooth pulled than wear a formal dinner jacket.”
“So neither of us attended.”
Joanna shook her head. “It would appear not. Are you sure this gossip column contains accurate information? Maybe whoever wrote it is only speculating.”
Evie gasped and put her hands on her hips. “Lady M wouldneverspeculate.”
“Who is Lady M?”
“The woman who writes the gossip column.”
“You don’t even know hernameand we’re supposed to trust everything she tells us to be correct?”
“She wouldn’t dare make a mistake as big as this. Just because you’re a private detective now doesn’t mean you need to independently verify every single source.”
Joanna arched an auburn brow. “That’sexactlywhat it means.”
“Well, I am telling you that if Lady M has said that Rosemary and the Duke of Hanover are betrothed, then they are betrothed. If you want to go track down witnesses and take their statements, fine. Go ahead. But you’ll just be wasting your time.” On a huff of breath, Evie resumed her seat and poked at her toast, but refrained from taking another bite. With her wedding looming ever closer, she was watching how much she ate. Especially since she’d been absolutely ravenous as of late. Nerves, she assumed. “We need to decide what to do.”
“About what?” With no such compunctions in regards to her eating habits, Joanna happily applied a thick layer of butter onto another piece of toast (her third, but who was counting?) and bit into it.
“Rosemary and her engagement!” Evie said in exasperation. “Haven’t you been listening?”
“Why do we have to do anything? Rosemary seems like a practical person. While Hanover wouldn’t have beenmyfirst choice for her, I’m sure she has her reasons for accepting his proposal.”
