How to Marry an Earl (A Cinderella Society 1)

“I don’t think her uncle is treating her well.”

Iron marched through Persephone’s voice. “What shall we do?”

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

“We could ask her.”

“She’d never tell us. She wouldn’t want us to worry.”

“That does sound like Meg.”

“But I don’t worry,” Priya said as they left the parlor. “I act.”

There was a soft sound, like a slipper sliding over the wooden floor. Hastily. Persephone caught the hem of a dress, the flutter of a ribbon. By the time they had made it around the corner, the hall was deserted.

“Someone eavesdropping?” Priya wondered grimly.

“Seems that way.”

“I didn’t see who it was. Did you?”

“No,” Persephone said. “But she was wearing a yellow and pink ribbon. So, I know exactly who to ask.”

A conversation withher grandmother confirmed that she had given a Miss Ivy Jones a particularly cheerful ribbon because the girl looked so “woeful”.

“She keeps herself apart,” Lady Blackwell sighed. “And lurks in the corners. She may need a tonic, something to balance her humours. An excess of sanguine, I expect.”

There were many reasons why Ivy might have traded her corner-lurking, to hallway-lurking outside private parlors, and most of the ones which immediately sprang to mind were untoward. Did she know the traitor? Was she working with him?

Persephone did not have time to track Conall down. Some things must be dealt with head-on. Especially as Ivy had been in conversation with Persephone’s grandmother. The thought of the possible danger made her belly turn sour. Obviously, nothing had come of it, but it was like a shock of cold water down the back of her neck.

She located Ivy taking tea in one of the drawing rooms with the other guests. Holly and Lady Louisa were there, which gave Persephone pause. Holly wore a necklace of garnet that gleamed like raspberries. There was something familiar about it; the color perhaps. She searched for the Lords Darrington, Fairweather, and Snettisham, but they were absent.

“Percy, I’m so glad you’ve come to join us,” her grandmother exclaimed. She’d added tiny birds to her old-fashioned wig for the afternoon. “You need a spot of tea. You haven’t stopped in weeks.”

“The festival opens tomorrow, Grandmaman,” she said, bending to kiss her cheek. She was immediately enveloped in the scents of honey and rose powder. Chartreuse, happily ensconced in her lap, gave a small bark until she received a scratch behind the ear, as was her due. Persephone stepped back and dipped a quick curtsy to everyone assembled on settees and chairs, balancing painted cups and plates of cake. Her grandmother did like cake.

Persephone waited until the conversations resumed before taking her seat next to Ivy. “Good afternoon, Miss Jones.”

Ivy forced a smile. “Lady Persephone.”

Her grandmother was right. She did seem out of sorts and melancholic. Were there plans afoot? Before she could prod the other lady for information, Lady Louisa gasped theatrically. Her voice carried the soft-loudness of false whispering. The kind that never meant anyone well. “I hear Henry Talbot is wanted for questioning,” she said. “Something about misconduct during the war.”

Persephone felt the blood drain from her face. Her mouth went dry. It took every single ounce of her willpower not to leap to her feet and toss Lady Louisa straight into the seven-tiered cake on the table behind her. An over-reaction would be suspicious. But not reacting at all, also strange coming from Henry’s oldest childhood friend. Persephone got to her feet, slowly.

“Lady Louisa,” Persephone’s grandmother snapped before she could say anything. “I shan’t have the grandson of my greatest friend and your hostess, denigrated. Is that quite understood?”

Lady Louisa turned red. Holly, showing an unexpected burst of wisdom, abandoned her friend, slipping quietly away. “Of course, we don’t believe the gossip, Lady Blackwell,” Lady Louisa rushed to explain. “It’s only…”

“If one doesn’t believe the gossip, one ought not share it.”

Persephone allowed herself a brief smile at the sight of Lady Louisa realizing just how formidable of an opponent her grandmother was.

“You’re looking flushed,” her grandmother continued ruthlessly. “I believe some fresh air would do you good.”

“Yes, Lady Blackwell.” Lady Louisa knew herself to be evicted. The others didn’t make a single comment. Lady Blackwell’s stance had been made abundantly clear.

As Louisa slunkaway, Persephone caught Ivy slipping out of the drawing room through a side door, only noticing because of the virulent ribbons catching the light. Bless her grandmother. It took her a moment to track her down, tucked inside the music room.