isn’t an outsider. He’s nearly as important to this country as the prime minister.”
“He’s not English,” Lady Glover said.
“A fact that hasn’t curtailed his influence on those who run the empire,” Mr. Foster said. “You won’t find a better respected man in Westminster.”
“He’d say the same thing about you,” I said.
“He’s been splendid to me since school. I was a few years behind him and he took me quite under his wing during my first days. He remembered what it was like to be the new boy. I’d trust him with my life.”
“I admit that’s something of a relief,” Lady Glover said. “He’s not my vision of a romantic correspondent.”
“I don’t see how there’s anything romantic about receiving correspondence from a murderer,” I said. “You should take this very seriously, Lady Glover.”
“I assure you, I do,” she said. “I shall set Lord Glover to the task of having the house watched. I want to know who is delivering these messages.”
“It was only one message, was it not?” I asked. “What makes you think there will be more?”
“My dear Lady Emily,” she said. “More are a certainty. I’m in my element here. You can trust me to know when a man will be back in contact.”
11
For years, Ivy and I had made a habit of meeting for a morning ride in Rotten Row, and it had long ago become one of my favorite daily rituals during the season. The morning light would fall soft on leaves and grass and make a glowing cloud out of the dust kicked up by our horses’ hooves. We would start off slowly, then I’d pull ahead, goading her to race. She’d protest, worried we’d shock society and horrify the multitudinous other riders. But soon enough she’d be following me, pulling up close, and egging me on.
Today, I regretted not having had more than a small piece of toast and a single cup of tea to fortify me before I’d set off. I hadn’t realized Winifred Harris would be joining us, or just how much fortification dealing with her could require. It took fewer than ten minutes for me to confirm something I’d long suspected: try though I might for Ivy’s sake, Winifred and I would never be close. Our conversation was stilted from the outset, and she scolded me fiercely the second my horse started to move a beat faster than a canter, explaining to us in overwrought detail how inappropriate our previous behavior had been.
“Furthermore, it’s not good form,” she said, just as I’d started to hope she was nearly done. “It’s dangerous, too, as there are so many riders present. But most of all, think of the talk to which it has exposed you. Do you want to draw ire upon yourselves? Do you want to be left off guest lists because you’re considered wild?”
Personally, I was quite taken with the notion. No one had ever suggested to me before that I might be wild. It seemed something to which one might aspire.
“Thank heavens we’re both already married,” I said, knowing my irony would be completely lost on Winifred. “We’d be scaring off every potential husband we met.”
“I don’t mean to be stern with you,” Winifred said, puffing up her broad chest. “Please understand that. But it’s essential we stay vigilant in the protection of our characters. What does a lady have that matters more than her reputation?”
“I can think of lots of things,” I said, but wasn’t allowed to continue.
“One need only look at how Lady Merton’s circle has shrunk since her house was painted. Consider that, Lady Emily, and then consider your connection with the Women’s Liberal Federation. It’s very off-putting,” she said. “People are beginning to talk.”
“Let them,” I said. “I believe in what I’m doing.”
“You’re just trying to get attention. No thinking person can believe women should have the vote. It’s a revolting concept. You should know your place better than that.”
“You know, Winifred, you begin to make me wonder if
“He’s not English,” Lady Glover said.
“A fact that hasn’t curtailed his influence on those who run the empire,” Mr. Foster said. “You won’t find a better respected man in Westminster.”
“He’d say the same thing about you,” I said.
“He’s been splendid to me since school. I was a few years behind him and he took me quite under his wing during my first days. He remembered what it was like to be the new boy. I’d trust him with my life.”
“I admit that’s something of a relief,” Lady Glover said. “He’s not my vision of a romantic correspondent.”
“I don’t see how there’s anything romantic about receiving correspondence from a murderer,” I said. “You should take this very seriously, Lady Glover.”
“I assure you, I do,” she said. “I shall set Lord Glover to the task of having the house watched. I want to know who is delivering these messages.”
“It was only one message, was it not?” I asked. “What makes you think there will be more?”
“My dear Lady Emily,” she said. “More are a certainty. I’m in my element here. You can trust me to know when a man will be back in contact.”
11
For years, Ivy and I had made a habit of meeting for a morning ride in Rotten Row, and it had long ago become one of my favorite daily rituals during the season. The morning light would fall soft on leaves and grass and make a glowing cloud out of the dust kicked up by our horses’ hooves. We would start off slowly, then I’d pull ahead, goading her to race. She’d protest, worried we’d shock society and horrify the multitudinous other riders. But soon enough she’d be following me, pulling up close, and egging me on.
Today, I regretted not having had more than a small piece of toast and a single cup of tea to fortify me before I’d set off. I hadn’t realized Winifred Harris would be joining us, or just how much fortification dealing with her could require. It took fewer than ten minutes for me to confirm something I’d long suspected: try though I might for Ivy’s sake, Winifred and I would never be close. Our conversation was stilted from the outset, and she scolded me fiercely the second my horse started to move a beat faster than a canter, explaining to us in overwrought detail how inappropriate our previous behavior had been.
“Furthermore, it’s not good form,” she said, just as I’d started to hope she was nearly done. “It’s dangerous, too, as there are so many riders present. But most of all, think of the talk to which it has exposed you. Do you want to draw ire upon yourselves? Do you want to be left off guest lists because you’re considered wild?”
Personally, I was quite taken with the notion. No one had ever suggested to me before that I might be wild. It seemed something to which one might aspire.
“Thank heavens we’re both already married,” I said, knowing my irony would be completely lost on Winifred. “We’d be scaring off every potential husband we met.”
“I don’t mean to be stern with you,” Winifred said, puffing up her broad chest. “Please understand that. But it’s essential we stay vigilant in the protection of our characters. What does a lady have that matters more than her reputation?”
“I can think of lots of things,” I said, but wasn’t allowed to continue.
“One need only look at how Lady Merton’s circle has shrunk since her house was painted. Consider that, Lady Emily, and then consider your connection with the Women’s Liberal Federation. It’s very off-putting,” she said. “People are beginning to talk.”
“Let them,” I said. “I believe in what I’m doing.”
“You’re just trying to get attention. No thinking person can believe women should have the vote. It’s a revolting concept. You should know your place better than that.”
“You know, Winifred, you begin to make me wonder if
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