Mischief in Regency Society: To Catch a Rogue. Amanda McCabe

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СКАЧАТЬ if he did that, she wouldn’t have the chance to catch the Lily Thief once and for all. The Alabaster Goddess was an alluring bait like no other. If only Clio didn’t have to be caught in the middle of it all.

      “What did he say to you this afternoon, Clio?” Calliope asked.

      Clio stared down at the notebook. “Who?”

      “Averton, of course. You have been so quiet tonight. You didn’t even seem to be listening when Father read from the Aeneid after dinner.”

      Clio shrugged. “I am just tired, I think. As for Averton, he is of no importance.”

      “But his behaviour this afternoon—”

      “Is of no consequence! He is like so many men of his exalted ilk, he thinks all women are his for the asking. No, not even asking, just taking. Like an ivory box, or an alabaster statue from a Delian temple. When he meets one who wants nothing to do with him, it only makes him more determined. But I have twice the determination he does.”

      That Calliope knew to be true. No one was more determined, more single-minded than Clio. Expect perhaps Lord Westwood. “I did not realise you even knew the duke.”

      “I don’t. Or about as much as I want to know him. I have encountered him once or twice at galleries and shops. He seems to have taken a ridiculous fancy to me of some sort.”

      Calliope stared at her sister in astonishment. She always thought they were as close as two sisters could be, yet she had no idea of this “fancy”. “Clio, why didn’t you say something?”

      “I told you, Cal, it is of no importance!” Clio cried, slapping her hand down on a pile of books. The volumes toppled, revealing the list beneath. Clio reached for it. “What is this?”

      “Nothing, of course,” Calliope said, trying to snatch it away.

      Clio held it out of her reach. “Lord Deering, Mr Smithson, Mr Lakesly. Is this a list of your suitors?”

      “Certainly not!” Calliope finally succeeded in retrieving the list. She folded it in half and stuck it inside one of the books. “I would never consider a suitor like Mr Lakesly. He gambles too much.”

      “I noticed Lord Westwood’s name on there, too. Certainly you would not call him a suitor, though I did notice you two were having quite a coze at the museum.”

      “We were discussing Greek mythology, that is all. And this list is merely something for our Ladies Society meeting tomorrow.”

      “Ah, yes, the meeting. What is it really all about, Cal?”

      “I told you. To make plans for Averton’s ball. We must all be extra-vigilant that night, so there is no repeat of Lady Tenbray’s rout. Unless…”

      “Unless what?”

      Calliope bit her lip. “Unless you don’t want to go to the ball. It would be completely understandable, given the duke’s deplorable behaviour! We don’t even have to talk about this any more, if you don’t care to.”

      Clio slumped back in her chair, arms crossed and face set in stony lines. Calliope had seen that mutinous pose since childhood. “Cal, really. It’s not like the man tried to slit my throat in the middle of the Elgin Room. He merely said some—words to me. Nothing I cannot manage. Surely you know better than to treat me like a piece of fragile porcelain.”

      Calliope smiled reluctantly. Oh, yes, she did know that. When they were children, Thalia could always outrun them all in foot races, a veritable Atalanta. But Clio was the first to climb up trees—and leap down from them as if she had wings. The first to swim streams and scramble up peaks.

      The duke didn’t know what he was up against.

      “Of course,” Calliope agreed. “No more porcelain.”

      “So, tell me about this list. I would guess they are your candidates for the Lily Thief.”

      Calliope drew the list back out, smoothing it atop the desk. “Yes. Some of them are a bit far-fetched, I know.”

      “A bit? Mr Emerson couldn’t tell an amphora from a horseshoe. And Lord Mallow is shockingly myopic.”

      “Hmph.” Calliope pushed the list towards her sister. “Very well, Clio, since you’re so clever, who would you put on the list?”

      Clio pursed her lips as she examined the names. “Not Mr Hanson. He would be utterly paralysed at the thought of his mama’s disapproval. And not Mr Smithson—he is far too honest. What about Lord Wilmont?”

      “Oh, I hadn’t thought of him! That’s very good. Remember that krater he had that no one had ever seen before?” Calliope added the name to the others. Now Westwood was no longer at the bottom of the list.

      “And Lord Early. Remember when he nearly fought a duel with Sir Nelson Bassington when that unfortunate man declared Early’s Old Kingdom stela was clearly Amarna Period?”

      “What bacon-brains the two of them are. I think they should both be on this list.”

      They sat there long into the night, debating the merits of each suspect. Names were added; others erased. The only one that stayed in place, black and solid, was Lord Westwood.

Chapter Six

      “I call this meeting of the Ladies Artistic Society to order,” Calliope announced. “Miss Clio Chase will take the minutes.”

      The chatter and rustling among the members slowly ceased, as they put their teacups back on tabletops and faced Calliope once again. Their pretty faces were alight with curiosity.

      “What is our subject today, Calliope?” Lady Emmeline Saunders asked. “It must be something very important, since this is not our regularly scheduled day to meet.”

      “Oh, something truly dreadful must have happened!” moaned Lotty Price. “A murder. An illness. A poisoning!”

      “Someone needs to take away that girl’s novels,” Clio muttered under her breath.

      “Do let Calliope talk, Lotty,” said Emmeline.

      “Indeed there hasn’t been a murder, by poisoning or any other method,” Calliope said. “And I hope that we may prevent one from ever happening.”

      Emmeline gave her a sharp glance. “You suspect a murder is about to occur?”

      “I knew it!” Lotty cried. “There is a dreadful plot afoot.”

      Calliope sighed. “I fear Lotty is not far wrong this time.”

      “Whatever do you mean?” asked Thalia. “Who is to be killed? Should we not arm ourselves?”

      “No, no, I don’t mean it in that way,” Calliope said quickly, trying to stem the rising tide of panic she sensed among her friends. “I have no knowledge of any human murder being planned.” Yet. “The plot I refer to concerns the СКАЧАТЬ