Murder Has No Class by Rebecca Kent

Essie cried. “That was marvelous!”
    “Wait until you see a man and woman dance it together.” Felicity threw herself down on her chair, legs sprawled in front of her. “It will take your breath away.”
    “Well, really .” Sylvia tossed her head, sending fronds of her hair floating up and down. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this repulsive discussion.”
    “No,” Felicity agreed mildly. “You don’t.”
    Sylvia gasped, and looked at Meredith for support.
    Meredith pretended not to notice. “That was quite an . . . ah . . . energetic dance. What did you call it?”
    “The tango.” Felicity pulled herself up into a more ladylike posture. “I saw it performed in London last year while I was recruiting a batch of new students. I was in the home of aristocrats, and it was all very respectable. I understand the dance is quite popular in Paris right now, but it hasn’t really become well known here. Now yet, anyway.” She sent a sly glance in Sylvia’s direction. “In fact, I’m surprised Roger Platt is familiar with it.”
    Sylvia sniffed. “That young man would hunt out the most sordid of behaviors and waste no time in adopting them.”
    Although Meredith was inclined to agree with her, she felt compelled to defend the wayward assistant. “Oh, come now, Sylvia. If the dance is accepted among London’s elite, who are we to condemn it?”
    “Indeed.” Felicity looked triumphant. “I have to admit, I was intrigued, especially when I learned that it originated in the brothels of Argentina.”
    “Oh!” Scarlet in the face, Sylvia jumped to her feet. “I adamantly refuse to stay one minute longer and listen to such abominable language.”
    Felicity raised her eyebrows. “I am speaking nothing but the truth, Sylvia. There are such places, and we can hardly ignore their existence.”
    “We do not have to mention those dreadful, vulgar places in the drawing room. Good night ladies.” With that, Sylvia swept from the room.
    “Good. That got rid of her.” Felicity rubbed her hands together in glee and the door thudded to a close. “I thought it might.”
    Meredith shook her head. “You are awful, Felicity. You deliberately provoked her, and with such nonsense, too.”
    Felicity grinned. “I may have ruffled her feathers, but I assure you, Meredith, everything I said was the truth. I did see the dance performed, and it did originate in Argentina’s brothels. The immigrants brought it to Europe and now it’s becoming all the rage. It’s only a matter of time before it takes London by storm and then everyone will be doing it.”
    “Not in this school,” Meredith said firmly. “If either of you see any of the girls even attempting such a performance, you must put a stop to it at once.”
    Felicity stared at her. “Didn’t you just say we shouldn’t condemn the dance if it’s accepted by London’s aristocracy?”
    Meredith tightened her lips. “Accepting it is one thing. Allowing our students to slither all over the halls of this school in that lewd manner is quite something else.”
    Essie giggled. “It would be quite a sight to see.”
    Felicity sighed. “Meredith’s right. Besides, you really need a man to perform it properly, though why anyone would want to get that close to a male I cannot imagine.” She finished her words on a shudder, earning a curious glance from Essie.
    Meredith decided now was a good time to change the subject.
    Launching into an account of her visit to the Stalham estate, she kept her friends enthralled until she reached the end of her story.
    Felicity looked impressed. “You certainly managed to wheedle a great deal of information out of the staff. Well done.”
    “Except for Smithers, who was the first one on the scene and would therefore have the most specific information.” Meredith frowned. “He was quite forbidding, actually. I could tell he resented the intrusion.”
    “Ah well, you know what butlers can be like.” Felicity stretched out