Page 70 of The Confessions of a Lady
Millie frowned. ‘I don’t. But I know someone who does.’ Grabbing Penny’s hand, she dragged her through the crowd, snagging a protesting Ivy, who was hiding behind the refreshment table. Eventually, the trio came upon Philippa.
Philippa was staring intently across the ballroom at a stunning woman in a white and purple gown. ‘Who is that?’ Millicent asked sweetly, batting her eyes from beneath her mask.
Philippa turned quickly, a look of surprise on her face. Penny would guess the duchess wasn’t used to being taken unawares.
‘No one. At least, no one you need to worry about.’
‘I know who she is. Marchioness Brightmore.’ Ivy smiled across the ballroom at the beautiful woman.
‘How do you know her?’ Philippa’s voice held a tone Penny had never heard before from the duchess. Alarm.
Ivy turned to the indomitable woman. ‘She’s heading up the Lady’s Syndicate for Foundling Children. I’m on the board. I told you this.’
‘You failed to mention the marchioness.’ Philippa rubbed her index finger against her thumb in small circles.
‘Because I didn’t think it an important detail.’ Ivy’s gaze returned to Lady Brightmore before swinging back to the duchess. ‘Is it?’
Philippa pressed her crimson lips into a hard line. ‘No. It is not.’ She turned her attention back to the ladies. ‘Ah. Penny. You look rather well suited to silk and sparkles.’
Penny shouldn’t be surprised the duchess immediately identified her. Even in a sumptuous gown and glittering mask, it wasn’t easy to mislead the Duchess of Dorsett.
‘Penny needs our help, Philippa.’
The duchess arched a black brow. ‘Does she? Do tell.’
Millicent turned to Penny and nodded encouragement.
Oh dear.
The idea of asking the Duchess of Dorsett for help – confidante to the Queen, one of the most powerful women in the beau monde, and potentially a lethal force – was incredibly daunting. All the moisture in her mouth evaporated and her tongue stuck.
‘Um, yes. Well.’ She tried to take a calming breath, but it only invigorated the bees buzzing in her belly. ‘I know you’ve been investigating Lord Renquist. And I have found damning evidence against him. Evidence I need to present to the commissioner. I was hoping you might point me in his general direction.’
Philippa’s brow rose higher. She thwacked her fan against her skirts and a jewel dislodged, pinging against the floor before disappearing beneath the slippers of a woman wearing an ungodly shade of puce velvet.
‘Fascinating, Penny. You continue to astound. I wager this evidence should not be shared in such a public venue. I do know the commissioner. Unfortunately. And while I loathe to spend any amount of time with the man, for this particular revelation, I can make an exception.’
Penny’s bees started to swarm. Why on earth did Philippa carry such a dislike for the commissioner? Not that it was any of Penny’s business. Nor should it matter. But still. ‘Can we trust him?’
Philippa’s crimson lips curled in a cold smile. Her white teeth flashed in the candlelight. ‘In this matter, I believe we can. I shall find him. You know this house better than I; where should we meet?’
Penny thought for a moment. ‘The library.’
‘Wonderful.’ Philippa nodded, then, like a stately ship setting to sail across stormy seas, she moved through the crowd as lords and ladies parted on either side of her.
‘I think Drake will want to hear this. Do you mind terribly?’
Penny had no idea what she was doing, but if Major General Drake Beaufort wanted to help, who was she to dissuade him?
‘Come on, Ivy. We should mention this to Hannah and Killian as well. Penny, go to the library. We will be there forthwith.’ Millie pushed Penny gently then hooked her arm through Ivy’s and tugged the woman through the crowd to her Major General Drake, who stood a head taller than the men around him.
Dear God. What wheels have I put into motion?
But it was too late now. She was trapped in the runaway cart and there was no jumping out.
Penny paced back and forth on the thick rug, refusing to look at the piano. Refusing to remember Liam’s face caught in the agony and beauty of creation as melancholy music poured from his fingers. Refusing to remember what happened when he stopped playing and pulled her from the shadows into the yellow pool of light.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and Philippa sailed in, a tall man in a black suit walking behind her. He wore no mask and could only be the commissioner. While he was younger than she expected, hard lines bracketed his stern mouth. His eyes were a shade of blue reminding Penny of the bottom of a thick, glass bottle. His jaw was wide and firm. Black hair, salted with a sprinkling of silver, was combed intouniform precision. Standing next to Philippa, the two made a strikingly similar and beautiful couple.
