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she had visitors.
Priscilla, Daphne, and Ariadne were eager to share information, but
she only agreed to discuss the matter with them after they promised
to pose for her battle scene. She would have preferred to use the
footmen. Unfortunately, the last time she’d asked when she’d been
at their country seat on holiday, two of the footmen had become so
carried away that a Chinese vase had been damaged, and Warburton
had asked her not to involve the staff again.
    As it was, only Daphne could stand straight
and valiant enough to do her any good as a model soldier. Ariadne
made an excellent corpse. Priscilla insisted on playing a duchess
watching from the edge of the battlefield. Emily pointed out that
duchesses, or most dukes for that matter, seldom went to war, but
Priscilla was adamant, so Emily let it go at that.
    “So,” she said as she studied the angle of
Daphne’s chin, “we know that Lord Robert Townsend has no money and
likes the ladies all too well.”
    “Definitely not what a hero is made of,”
Ariadne said, raising her head into a patch of sunlight that turned
her hair to gold. “Though it appears he has been voted in to
White’s.”
    So even the members of that elite gentlemen’s
club could be fooled. “Corpses should remain flat, if you please,”
Emily reminded her.
    Ariadne puffed out a sigh but lay back on the
carpet and crossed her arms over her chest.
    “Being pockets to let isn’t enough to
threaten an engagement,” Priscilla said. “A great many people find
themselves with less money than they’d like. That doesn’t make them
criminals.”
    “But how is Lady Emily to know he isn’t up to
something more nefarious?” Daphne asked.
    “An excellent question,” Emily replied.
“Please forgive me, Ariadne, but I deviated from your plan. I sent
one of our footmen with a note asking if Lord Robert would come
calling this afternoon. I thought perhaps I’d get him to take me to
see the Parthenon Marbles.”
    Ariadne smiled. “An excellent strategy. Draw
him out.”
    Emily stroked her brush across the oil on her
palette. “I thought so. Unfortunately, he already answered me. He
is too busy today to assist me but will take me to see the Marbles
tomorrow. The footman reported that Lord Robert intends to spend
the day shopping, and this evening he will attend the Marchioness
of Skelcroft’s ball.”
    “Well, I like that,” Priscilla said, eyes
narrowing. “He’s only too happy to attend a ball when it isn’t
ours!”
    “That seems most unfair,” Daphne agreed.
    “He must have some reason,” Ariadne insisted.
“Could the marchioness be the married lady with whom he’d
dallied?”
    Emily’s hand jerked, smearing her stroke. She
set the brush and palette down before she could do more damage. “I
suppose I shall have to find a way to ask him, if ever I lay eyes
on him!”
    “If Lord Robert is shopping,” Priscilla said,
“you can be certain where he’ll be at some point or other.”
    Ariadne and Daphne nodded. “Bond Street,”
they chorused.
    And that was how they all arrived on Bond
Street, in search of Lord Robert.
    Lady Minerva hadn’t protested when Emily
mentioned that she and her three friends would be visiting the most
famous shopping district in London. She’d even ordered Warburton to
bring around the carriage.
    “Just be discreet,” she’d murmured to Emily
as she bent closer to pat the shoulder of her Navy short jacket.
“If you are caught, I shall disavow all knowledge.”
    So much for having an ally.
    Still, Emily could not help that her spirits
rose as their coachman Mr. Phillips maneuvered the horses down
Brooke Street and out into the crowds along New Bond Street. She
would never have thought it possible, but it was rather a lark to
be dashing about after a gentleman, trying to discover his secrets.
What would she learn about Robert today?
    Daphne must have had the same thought, for
she was fairly bouncing against the cushions. “What do you think
Lord