Curious who it could be, Evie stepped inside.
She found herself in aséparé, appearing quite similar to the main room, walls swathed with dark panels and red velvet curtains, except this one was smaller, and there was a corner table, half hidden by a curtain.
Evie turned around to the maid to enquire what this was, but the girl had closed the door.
“Do step closer, Lady Evangeline,” a melodious female voice said from behind the curtain.
Curious, Evie stepped forward. “Who are you?”
There was no reply.
She took another step forward and pushed the curtain aside. Behind a round table, on an upholstered bench, sat a tall, slim woman swathed entirely in black. She wore a black dress of bombazine, a black cape over her shoulders, a black bonnet and over it, covering her entire face, a black veil.
Evie recoiled.
She had seen this figure before, hovering over Clara at the inn. She’d thought her a spectre, at first, but it was clear the woman was breathing and alive.
Curse it, she had not brought her pistol, just when she needed it most.
“Who are you?” Her voice came out steadier than she felt.
“Do not be afraid, Lady Evangeline. And please sit so we may have a chat. I have been wanting to talk to you for quite a while.”
Evie weighed her options. She did not assume the woman to be dangerous, and she was curious about who she was and what she wanted. “You were at the inn.”
The woman inclined her head. “At the inn, I made an error. It has since been corrected.”
“You knew that my companion was not me?”
“I know it now.”
“Are you a spy?”
The woman laughed softly.
“And why are you hiding behind the veil? Who are you?”
“You shall have to forgive me for not disclosing my true name, nor my true face. You may call me the Baroness.”
Evie attempted to squint through the veil, which covered her mouth but left part of her chin free. She deduced the woman was young, possibly only a little older than herself. She gave a cool nod. “Why have you led me here? For I assume you sent that maid to bring me.”
“I am not here on a personal matter, but I represent an organisation that is called the Widows’ Circle. We support and represent, as the name implies, widows.” She paused. “I am a widow myself.”
Evie listened politely. “My condolences. Except what does this organisation have to do with me? I am neither married, nor am I a widow.”
“Indeed, we are well aware of that. Yet you are about to be engaged to one of the most powerful men in the empire.” She let the silence sit for a moment. “We believe you maybe considering calling it off. We would like to persuade you not to.”
Evie stiffened. How on earth had she known?
“We have eyes in a great many places, Lady Evangeline.”
“That sounds eerily similar to what Metternich told me. He wanted to recruit me for espionage.”
“Naturally. That does not surprise us. Did you agree?”
“I would never lower myself to spy on someone.”
The woman assessed her in the silence that followed. “Would you not?”
