Before they departed, Mrs. Hunt had drawn Livy aside in the hallway.
“Keep an eye on Pippa, will you?” she whispered, bright concern in her blue eyes. “She did not sleep a wink last night. She is not taking Longmere’s death well.”
“Can you blame our daughter?” Her husband, Gavin Hunt, did not whisper. A tall, powerfully built man with a scar on his right cheek, Mr. Hunt said derisively, “The bastard didn’t even have the decency to exit in a proper manner.”
“Now, darling, you mustn’t speak ill of the dead,” Mrs. Hunt began.
“I spoke ill of him when he was alive,” Mr. Hunt reminded her.
“Well, you are consistent, I grant you that.”
At his wife’s exasperated tone, Mr. Hunt’s lips twitched. He put a large, proprietary hand on her waist. “I’m constant, Percy, which is more than I can say for that penniless, pompous fop. What Pippa saw in him, I’ll never understand.”
“As a painter herself, Pippa was drawn to his artistic sensibilities,” Mrs. Hunt explained.
“I was a cutthroat.” Mr. Hunt snorted. “Did you see me wanting to marry a lady cutthroat?”
Mrs. Hunt’s gaze flitted upward. “Come along, dear. We have a meeting with the florist.”
She dragged her husband off.
Now Livy shared a settee with Pippa, and her heart ached to see her friend’s waxen countenance. It was as if Pippa’s inner lamp had been doused: her blue eyes had lost their sparkle, and her hair was dull and lifeless, pulled back in a severe knot. The frock she wore had been hastily dyed for the occasion, the heavy black deepening the shadows beneath her reddened eyes.
For several minutes now, Pippa had been staring off into space.
Worried, Livy asked, “Could I pour you some tea, Pippa?”
“No. Thank you.” Pippa’s reply was monotone.
“Perhaps there is something else you would like?”
“Actually, there is.” Pippa’s gaze sharpened and circled the room. “Now that Mama and Papa are gone, I want the truth: was my husband’s death an accident?”
The last two days had been an exercise in delicate maneuvering. After discovering Longmere in his studio, Livy had convinced Ben to let her break the news to Pippa. She, accompanied by Charlie, had had the painful task of informing Pippa of her husband’s death. Given that Livy had found Longmere’s body, Charlie had had to reveal the true purpose of the Society of Angels and the Willflowers’ involvement.
Pippa, in an obvious state of shock over her loss, had absently agreed not to disclose the true purpose of Charlie’s charity to anyone…including Ben. Charlie remained adamant that Livy keep her vow of secrecy, and Livy wasn’t certain the time was right to tell Ben anyway. Despite the deep roots of their relationship, their romance had just sprouted, the feelings tender and new. She didn’t want to risk damaging Ben’s budding acceptance of her as his lover.
I will tell him when the time is right, she promised herself.
According to the note she’d received from Ben, he planned to pay his respects to Pippa today. Apparently, he had news to share. Before the arrival of the police, he and his friend Master Chen had done a search of Longmere’s study. Livy was burning to know if the two had discovered any clues to the earl’s death. For now, however, she concentrated on supporting Pippa as best she could.
“Do you have reason to believe that Longmere’s death was not an accident?” Livy asked with care.
“The police inspector who came by this morning stated that Longmere died from an overdose of laudanum. That makes no sense,” Pippa said feverishly. “My husband despised the stuff. It made him feel ill, and he never touched it, even when he had the most horrid toothache. When I tried to tell the inspector about this, he brushed me off, told me I was being hysterical and needed bed rest.”
Ben had guessed that the police might not be much help. Apparently, he’d been correct.
“Since you found Longmere, Livy,” Pippa said, swallowing, “I want to know what you saw.”
Uncertain how much to tell Pippa, Livy looked to Charlie for help.
“I want to hear the truth from you, Livy. Not Lady Fayne.” Pippa glowered at Charlie, who remained composed, her hands folded in the lap of her dove-grey dress. “If I had known that she was involving the three of you girls in this mess, I would never have accepted her offer of assistance.”
“It is not Charlie’s fault,” Livy protested. “We wanted to help.”
“It was our choice,” Fiona agreed.
“And we still want to help, if you’ll let us,” Glory chimed in.
“You are girls,” Pippa burst out. “What can you possibly do?”
“Anything they want to.” Charlie’s manner was confident. “I have been training the Angels for weeks, and I have never seen anyone—male or female—learn the skills of investigation so quickly.”
Pippa frowned. “What skills?”
“We know how to observe subjects and glean information discreetly,” Livy said.
“We are also versed in physical combat, weaponry, and disguises,” Fi added.
Pippa’s forehead creased. “And your parents approve of this?”
“They might.” Livy cleared her throat. “If they knew about it.”
“That is precisely my point,” Pippa argued. “Lady Fayne has no right to involve you in danger and deception—”
“I wanted to do this.” Livy willed her friend to understand. “Sometimes one must go against the wishes of others to pursue one’s true purpose and desires.”
Pippa’s lashes trembled.
Realizing that she might have inadvertently poured salt on her friend’s wounds, Livy took Pippa’s hands and said contritely, “If you let us help, we will do our best to find out what happened to your husband.”
Looking torn, Pippa said, “Then you do think that it wasn’t an accident?”
Livy nodded.
Pippa released a shuddering breath. “Tell me everything.”
Livy gave a summary of the facts, including the conversation she’d overheard at the Black Lion and Longmere’s appearance at Cremorne Gardens. While Livy had
