Page 96 of A Deal with the Devil

Agnes sat back, the sunshine playing over the cap pinned to her fair hair. She looked strong, tired. Sad. “I doubt that’s why you sought me out.”

“No,” Kitty admitted. “No, it’s not.” She took Lord Tadworth’s Delights of the Duchess, volume seven, from her reticule. Agnes’s gaze darted around, landing on the water, the trees, a nursemaid with a pram, a dog slipping its leash, then finally, finally on the book in Kitty’s hands. Kitty opened it to the page with the neat handwriting. “This belonged to Lady Caroline, didn’t it?”

“Why do you want to know?” Agnes asked flatly. “Did Lord Portsmouth send you?”

“Definitely not.” Kitty decided it would be more expedient to just tell her the truth. “I want to know because if I don’t do something, my sister will be his next bride.”

“If that’s true, don’t just do something, do anything.”

Kitty shivered. “This was her book, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, she was a great reader. Went to your shop often enough.”

“She did?”

“Yes. She and Miss Campbell would send books back and forth to each other. They grew up together, you see. And Lady Caro would not disdain the friendship even when she became a countess and Lord Portsmouth forbade her from the association.”

Miss Campbell. Kitty stored the name away for later. “Do you know what their plan was?”

Agnes shook her head.

Kitty rubbed her breastbone. “Blast. Can you tell me about her? Lady Caroline?”

“She was young, barely twenty-two, when she married. Her parents were ecstatic. They chose to look the other way on the fate of his previous wives as soon as Lord Portsmouth told them he did not need Lady Caro’s dowry.”

“Sounds familiar.” Kitty grimaced. And Lord Portsmouth was in his early forties. She already knew his other wives were in their early twenties as well. Evie was only nineteen. “Did she love him?”

Agnes snorted. “That man is unlovable, though he puts on a good mask, as long as he gets his way. As long as he gets exactly what he wants.”

“And what did he want?”

“A male heir,” Agnes replied bluntly.

“That’s why his wives…do not last?” Kitty said. “Why he keeps marrying younger and younger.”

“He’s obsessed. Controlling. Desperate.” Agnes sighed. “Lady Caro knew it was going to get even worse. We had a plan, you see. But in the end, she just vanished.”

“Do you think she ran away? Could she be safe somewhere?”

“I hope so,” Agnes said. “I pray for that every day.”

Yelena handed her a handkerchief because she was the type to carry such a thing, while Kitty had two books, the key to her shop, and a wrinkled, empty packet of headache powder in her reticule. “Lady Caro sounds resourceful,” she said comfortingly.

“She was clever as ten cats.” Agnes nodded. “I hope your sister Evangeline is the same, Miss Caldecott.”

“How do you know her name?”

Agnes pulled the newspaper from her employers’ slack hands. “The dowager loves the gossip pages. She likes to predict who will have a falling out.” Agnes unfolded the paper to the section she was searching for. “Your sister’s engagement is mentioned here. And here. And again here.”

Kitty went cold. “Bollocks.”

Agnes smiled briefly, as if finally trusting her. Her smile died. “If Lord Portsmouth has made the announcement public, there’s no stopping him.”

“I will stop him.”

“I wish you luck, Miss Caldecott. I truly do.”

“Thank you,” Kitty said. She would take all the luck she could find.

They were running out of time.