“Indeed?” She looked wonderingly at the gentleman, who was now sitting at the head of the table, next to her husband, deep in conversation. “Who might you mean? Silverstar or Purple-breeches?”
The man blinked. “Purple-breeches? Oh, Mr Eldon. He must have tried to wear you down on his opinion on the Corn Laws. He does wear rather ghastly purple pantaloons, does he not? And Silverstar.” He uttered a soft laugh. “What an apt description.”
“It’s because he has this pretty star pinned on his chest,” Viola pointed at the right side of her chest.
“Hm. Indeed.” The man’s eyes twinkled. “I may be wrong, but I believe it is the star of the Order of the Garter. And you tell me you do not know to whom this star belongs?”
“No. Pray tell me?”
“Your Silverstar, Lady Viola, is none other than Liverpool, of course.” He chuckled. “Our Prime Minister.”
Viola’s eyes widened. “No. Truly?”
She hadn’t really seen his face the other day when he’d stepped out of White’s, for she’d focused entirely on Sebastian.
“Now then,” Tolliver said cheerfully, unfolding his napkin. “Shall we discuss something more interesting? I run the anatomy school at the Royal College of Surgeons.”
She looked at him with dawning delight.
Chapter Fourteen
Viola was almost disappointedwhen supper ended and the ladies withdrew, for she had been enjoying such an interesting conversation with Professor Tolliver. Truly, she ought to have brought along her pen and notebook to take notes, for it had been rather like attending a miniature lecture at the anatomy school. When he congratulated her on being a better listener than many of his students, she beamed at him.
The man had no scruples at all about describing, in considerable detail, how he went about cutting open a cadaver. And when he described, in even greater detail, the precise colour and odour of a decaying body while they were partaking of the third course, she decided they must surely be kindred spirits.
“This is all tremendously useful information,” she told him, quite transported. “Now tell me, how long do the body’s death throes last after it has ingested too much arsenic?”
She did not notice the odd silence that had fallen over the table, nor that she had blurted her question straight into the pause after Liverpool had asked, in general, whether everyone was in readiness and in good fighting spirit for the upcoming election.
The ladies gasped and tittered. Mr Eldon spluttered. Mr Green’s monocle dropped neatly into his pudding. The Prime Minister blinked, bemused, then turned inquisitively to Fane, who looked on with a resigned and slightly pained expression upon his face.
Later, when the ladies were gathered in the salon for tea and coffee, Viola stood about awkwardly, conscious of every eye upon her, yet feeling oddly set apart from the others. She wondered whether she ought to retreat quietly and spend the rest of the evening in the ladies’ retiring room, when a lady descended upon her.
“Finally. I thought I should never escape them. A frightful lot, those Tory wives. And I am permitted to say so, as I am one myself,” she chuckled. “But what a truly unexpected pleasure to see you here, my dear.”
A lady in burgundy red, with a peacock’s feather rising boldly from her headwear, took Viola’s arm and steered her with purpose toward a fauteuil in the room’s corner. “I have been attempting to catch your attention the entire evening, but you were quite absorbed, first with the Prime Minister, and then with Professor Tolliver. He is quite a character, is he not?”
“Lady Penworthy,” Viola exclaimed, genuinely delighted. “But what brings you here?”
“Josephine, please. We are friends, are we not?” She patted Viola’s hand. “And what is this I hear? You are truly married to that man, Fane? How can it be? I had always believed you to be the most determined spinster. I thought my eyes deceived me when I saw you arrive together, but then Lady Hatherleigh announced to a group of ladies that you are his wife. My first thought was she must be mistaken. But it appears to be true after all?”
“Er, yes. I am afraid it is,” Viola said, a little contrite.
“But, my dear. Why did you not tell me sooner?”
“The truth is no one was meant to know at all. Fane is far better served without a wife dangling about his neck. I fear I do him very little justice.”
“Nonsense,” Lady Penworthy said briskly. “On the contrary, I must say he has risen considerably in my esteem, knowing that he is married to you. He also seems to be the jealous sort, doesn’t he? He hasn’t stopped watching you the entire evening.”
“He hasn’t?” Surely, she must be mistaken.
Josephine waved her hand airily. “But let us not speak of our husbands. It is such a dull topic. Let us speak, instead, of our next book club.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Though we must be far more circumspect in the future. I am afraid I am the bearer of bad news.”
“What has happened?”
She cast a glance to the left and right before murmuring, “William has uncovered our secret. He is not amused.”
“Oh dear. How did that come about?”
