“Not a very effective way to foster trust,” Emme muttered.
“I do not know if he was any different before, when he was one of them,” Madeline said.
Emme looked at her stepsister. “You’re very observant,” she said quietly. “I’d no idea you were so perceptive. I am sorry, Maddie, for . . . many things. For always leaving you in that house.”
Madeline lifted a shoulder. “I never gave you another option. You did try, long ago. You do not understand Lysette. Or rather,” she admitted, “I suppose you do.”
Oliver remained quiet, as was his habit; he listened, faded into the background so others would perhaps forget he was there.
“Why does she have such hold over you?” Emme asked. “I understand her tyrannical personality, of course, but Maddie, you are so much . . .” She spread her hands wide, searching for the words. “So much more everything.”
Madeline was quiet, studying her hands. Her shoulders slumped as though she would sink in upon herself. “When we were young, she was merely cruel. Manipulative. She knew what bothered me and exploited it. A few years ago, however, she learned . . .” She lightly cleared her throat, and even with her face tilted down, the blush was clear. “She learned something dreadful about me.”
Emme frowned and leaned forward. “What could it possibly be? And how are you certain it is truly dreadful?”
She laughed softly and finally looked at Emme. “It is.”
“Maddie, it cannot be so awful. What on earth could she know that requires you to endure her continual abuse?”
Madeline shook her head. “It is ruinous.”
Emme studied her for a moment. “If that is true, then your actions here tonight may cause problems for you with her.”
“I do not believe she will divulge my secret—not yet. Once she does, she will have no more leverage.”
Emme’s hands tightened into fists on her lap. “Then let us find a way to take that power from her.”
Madeline smiled. “As it happens, I do have a plan. When the time comes, I promise I will take you into my confidence. Until then, I must ask for your patience.”
Emme released a breath and sat back. “Very well. I will honor your wishes. In the meantime”—she looked at Oliver—“is she correct? Is Nigel Crowe spying on the Committee?”
Oliver rolled his eyes the slightest bit before massaging his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “I would not know, of course, Emmeline.”
Emme smiled at Madeline in triumph. “Excellent observational skills, Maddie.”
“You’ll not repeat such a rumor to anyone, of course,” Oliver said.
“Who on earth would I tell? Mr. Rawley? Other Committee members?”
Oliver sighed. “You know what I mean, Emme.”
“Maddie, let me help you. You’re a grown young woman. Lysette is like a poison. She has made my life miserable; I can only imagine how it has been for you.”
Madeline’s eyes were glossy with unshed tears.
Emme shook her head. “I have been so busy telling myself I am helping the downtrodden, yet I failed a sister in my own home.”
Madeline bit her lip, wiping at the tear that spilled down her cheek with a hand that trembled. “You were surviving, Emme. Just as I was.” She pulled in a deep breath. “Yes, perhaps we can stop her. Ruin whatever she has planned. If I can, I’ll search her room. We’ve rooms for the night on the sixth floor.”
“Have you noticed anything unusual in Lysette’s attention to the Committee?” Oliver asked.
“I am not entirely certain, but I have noticed Lysette’s affections turning quite heavily toward Mr. Rawley.”
“An illicit assignation?” Emme asked. “Lysette is most particular about her potential suitors. I suppose that is irrelevant if her intentions are less than circumspect. She may not see him as a suitor at all.”
“Mr. Rawley may not be titled, but he is in a position of some power. He has attended the last two hunting parties. He also seems taken with Lysette, but as I said, I do not know what her true intentions are.” She blushed, then glanced at Oliver. “I know she does harbor a tendre for others who are also not titled but are men of some influence.”
Emme gasped, looking at Oliver. “I knew it! She is in love with you!”
Oliver raised a brow. “That is preposterous. She does not even know me.”
“Detective,” Madeline said, “she has instructed the staff to inform her immediately of your arrival at the London home. She feigned tears, once, in a conversation with you, and keeps with her always the handkerchief you gave her. Additionally, I heard her once ranting about your attention to Emmeline.”
His mouth dropped slightly. “My attention to Emmeline has never been social in nature. In fact, it has even been negatively confrontational at times.”
“That is true,” Emme muttered.
Madeline shrugged. “I see that. I believe everybody sees that.” She paused. “Until now, I suppose—now that your role with Emme has shifted.” She paused again, longer. “Since you were assigned as Emme’s bodyguard, Lysette has been intolerably angry.”
“Oh dear,” Emme breathed. “Worse than usual?”
Madeline nodded. “Much. And she has railed at Father, of all things. Has him quite baffled.”
“Yet you say she is showing attention to the young Committee member, Mr. Rawley.” Emme frowned. “If she is seeking access to his power, she should know he is in danger of losing it if all goes well at the Summit and the government agrees to abolish the Regulations Committee.”
Madeline looked at her in speculation. “All the more reason to hope it fails. You do have a tremendous gift with public address.”
Emme’s mouth slackened. “That is what I do not understand about these threats to me. It is ridiculous!”
Madeline shook her head. “You’ve never been in the audience of one of your own speeches.”
Emme stared. “Have you?”
She nodded. “One afternoon, Lysette was shopping, so I snuck away to the Activity Hall. You were . . . It was enthralling.
