But Kat’s uncle was dead, murdered by an assassin not six months past, though the authorities had encouraged the rumor it had been a footpad who had stabbed the earl. But for those who’d known the man’s skills and clandestine occupation, the idea was ludicrous.
Not that such a thing was common knowledge—far from it, in fact. But the three girls, once four when Alice had been alive, were the best of friends and knew one another’s secrets well.
After her uncle’s assassination last year, Kat was also on a mission to find his killer, and she had control of her uncle’s extensive network of informants to do so. Livie assumed it would be only a matter of when the assassin was found, not if. And then, God help the fiend. But in the meantime, Livie knew how they could make excellent use of those informants to seek justice for Alice.
“What do you propose we do?” Henrietta asked, her warm chocolate-brown eyes fixed firmly on the grave. Etta was the only one of their group not born into the aristocracy, but Livie thought that was a blessing, even though the girl’s father obviously disagreed, throwing around a fortune to try to rectify the situation, much to Etta’s disgust.
“I propose we find the bastard who seduced and ruined Alice,” Livie answered. “And then we ruin him in turn.”
“We shall not simply ruin him; we shall destroy him,” Kat added, her words mirroring Livie’s own thoughts.
“What exactly do you mean by destroy?” Etta glanced first at Kat and then over to Livie, a look of concern in her gaze. “You do mean take revenge upon him, rather than physically destroying him, don’t you?”
For a moment, there was a grim darkness in Kat’s eyes that made Livie pause, but then Kat shook her head and the expression fled.
“As long as he is made to pay for his actions,” Kat continued, “then such an extreme measure shouldn’t be necessary. Though he must be made to pay, for if it wasn’t for his actions, Alice would never have jumped from that tower and—”
“Careful, Kat,” Livie said, glancing around, but the mourners had already mostly dispersed, heading for the afternoon tea that Alice’s sister, the Countess of Chilton, was hosting after the funeral. “There’s speculation enough surrounding Alice’s death.”
“Though the authorities may have ruled it an accident, we all know what her death truly was.” Kat’s voice was flat. “A suicide.”
“Well, we don’t actually know that for certain.” Etta spoke up before biting her lower lip in the usual manner she did when upset. “Just because that is the current whispered rumor…for all we know, it could well have been an accident. It was raining that night; perhaps in Alice’s distressed state, she wandered too close to the edge of the roof and slipped?”
Livie had thought of nothing else for the past several days, other than what the last terrifying moments of Alice’s life had been like. To first be seduced and abandoned by a scoundrel and then to fall to her death was heinous, but one thing of which Livie was certain, was that it was neither an accident nor a suicide.
In truth, Livie believed Alice had been murdered.
Especially after receiving a letter from Alice on the day of her death, where Alice had alluded to moving to the Americas and making a fresh start of everything. Alice had seemed positive and upbeat, certainly not like someone contemplating taking her own life.
Though Livie was not prepared to share the letter or her suspicions of Alice being murdered with her friends just yet, at least not until she had more definitive proof.
All three of the ladies fell into silence for a moment as they watched more dirt being flung into the grave.
“I feel absolutely wretched she didn’t come and talk to us about it,” Etta mumbled, fresh tears streaming down her face. “I was too busy with my writing that I neglected to even notice something was amiss.”
“We all feel guilty, Etta.” Livie placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder and drew in a shaky breath, for it was true. The four of them had been the very best of friends since meeting at the finishing school they’d all been sent to when they were younger. But in the last few years, they’d each become so busy with their own lives, they hadn’t stayed in as much contact as they’d all vowed they would. “We were too late to do anything while she was alive, but we will not rest until we ensure that the scoundrel who ruined Alice is uncovered and punished for his actions. We will stop him and expose him before he’s able to seduce another young lady and destroy her life as he did Alice’s.”
For too long, Livie had retreated as far as she could from Society, burying her head in books, unwilling to face the taunts and cruelty from her peers and the veiled glances of sympathy and intolerance that her limp seemed to illicit, even after all these years. Well, she was done caring about what others thought. If she’d been braver sooner, she would have noticed what was happening to Alice and she would have been able to help her.
“But how are we to seek justice when we don’t even know who the man is?” Etta asked, swiping away some of the tears still tracking down her cheeks.
“We must discover his identity,” Livie replied, raising her eyes directly to Kat.
Kat’s green gaze narrowed in understanding and she nodded. “I will get my informants to begin making inquiries immediately.”
“Thank you,” Livie said. “Though I don’t wish to take away any of your resources in trying to discover who the assassin was who killed your uncle.”
“There are more than enough informants in my—in Victor’s network to reallocate some toward finding the bastard responsible for Alice’s demise.” Kat’s voice
