“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Piety did look unwell. Anya fetched the washbowl from its stand in the corner and set it on her friend’s lap. Then she sat beside her, not too close, just in case, and asked. “Why?”
“Papa’s in a private meeting in his study with Lord Craigmore.”
Anya frowned, but Piety liked Lord Peter, or was it…?
Piety nodded at Anya’s silent question. “It’s Lord Peter’s father. Mama says he’s been on the lookout for a new wife ever since his second one disappeared into the lake.”
“But her body was never found, and I heard that their former housekeeper swears on her mother’s soul she saw Her Ladyship with another man in town, just two months later. Which is why she’s now the former housekeeper. He can’t remarry if he’s still married.”
Piety’s eyes widened. “I never heard that.”
“You wouldn’t. Your mother won’t let any of the servants gather and gossip in any place you might possibly hear.”
“How do you know?”
“Because my mother actively encourages the practice, and our household staff have talked about that, as well as many other things, over the years.”
A maid tapped on the open door of Piety’s bedroom. “If you please, Miss, your father wishes you to attend him.”
Piety took a deep breath and handed Anya the washbowl. “No body?”
“None ever found, and half her jewels were missing.”
Anya’s best friend’s smile was a thing of terror, rather than beauty, as she stood. “I will return to you engaged to Lord Peter, or no one.”
Anya smirked. “Have fun.”
The DNA of Stories 