1815, Montgomery Manor
She knew who the killer was. It was her jealous friend and she had figured it out pretty easily from the clues. "Ah, I already know who the killer is," she said as she walked to the bookshelf get a different book.
"How can you already know that? You have read only half of the book. Did you skip to the end?" her friend Eleanor 'Lanie' Parish asked. Lanie knew she hadn't skipped to the end of the book and that she had figured it out on her own. She knew Kate had a knack for solving mysteries; while Lanie had been more interested in the sciences even when they had been kids growing up together. They knew each other very well. Their fathers were business partners and were very close friends and they lived two miles away from each other so they were like sisters.
"Of course not, you know I would never do that!" Kate scoffed, turning from the bookshelf to face Lanie.
"Yes, I know. So how did you figure out the end? I was really surprised when I found out who the killer was. How do you figure out these things?" Lanie said putting down her book, The Mysteries of the Human Body, interested in hearing what Kate had to say.
"They're called context clues' Eleanor," Kate said with a mock serious tone. "You should pay more attention to what I teach instead of daydreaming." They both burst out laughing as Kate mimicked their old tutor. "But, seriously, that's really what I do, I follow the clues"
"You must have been paying attention to every single detail…"
"And you weren't…of course you weren't", she scoffed as she sat down in the window seat.
"Well we both know I read it for the romance between Jacqueline and Garrard."
"I do not know why you waste your time with romance; people of our class hardly marry for love."
"With the exception of your parents…" At that moment, the silence was suddenly deafening. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to remind you, I was merely stating that they married for love…" Lanie apologized as she went to sit by her friend, who was silently crying.
"I know you didn't," she said accepting the embroidered handkerchief from her friend and used it to wipe away her tears. "Well, look what good marring for love did to him. He has been barely coping since she died. If not for your father I am not sure where he would be."
"You are the reason he is still here, he loves you." Lanie gently rubbed Kate's back trying to comfort her.
"I know," she sighed. "It's just sometimes it seems he is not here at all, though he's sitting right in front of me." The gong for luncheon sounded ending that conversation.
"What are you wearing to the ball tomorrow night?" Lanie asked as she shook out her morning gown already thinking of a way to convince her friend to go to the ball with her.
"I don't think I'm going to go." Kate said, confirming her friend's suspensions. "I mean, father might need me and I have so many things planned to do the day after…" Kate didn't really have anything to do the day after the ball, she was actually very free, and both she and Lanie knew that their fathers planned to go to town the following day and come back the day after the ball. She just didn't want to be in a room with all those meddling ladies trying to butt their way into her and her father's lives.
"What do mean you think you are going? Of course you are going. If you don't go, who will help me avoid talking to those airheads? Or who would I point out handsome men to? You have to go." Lanie knew she was whining and making Kate feel guilt but that was the only way to make her go to the ball. "I know just the dress you should wear, the olive green dress the modiste sent, and I could style your hair…" She kept on rambling as they entered the red salon for lunch.
Richard relished riding alone; he especially enjoyed the feel of the wind in his hair. The combination of clopping hoofs, the rustling leaves, the whistling birds and the babbling brook was music to his ears. The feel of the strong horse beneath him was the only thing tying him this world. Knowing his horse, Storm-a black Stallion with as good a bloodline as any member of the ton—could bolt at any time if given the chance kept him from relinquishing all control. He knew it was time to return when the strong horse slowed, he wasn't one to overwork his animals.
As he approached the house, he noticed an unusual carriage which meant his mother had invited Emma and her mother to luncheon. After requesting a rub and extra oats for his horse, he tried unsuccessfully avoid his mother by sneaking into the house. His mother, Martha Rogers, Marchioness of Castleton, was a very crafty woman.
"Ah, there he is, we were just talking about you." She said as she kissed both his checks. "Darling, you know Emma and her mother."
Emma Middleton was dressed in a blue gown that accented her slender waist and brought out her eyes, in essence she was dressed to impress. "Miss Middleton." He said in an expressionless tone as he brought her hand to his lips. Emma was his mother's latest recommendation for a wife for him. He didn't know why she didn't get the message that he wasn't interested in getting married after the last five girls. It wasn't that they weren't pretty enough, they were all beautiful; it was that they were all boring. He couldn't imagine living with any of them.
As he entered his bedchamber he loosened his cravat and dropped his coat on a chair, not bothering to ring for his valet. He was deep in thought about why his mother wanted him to get married as he poured himself a finger of whiskey from the canter. Though she would never admit it, it was because she wanted more grandchildren. "What about Alexis?" he had asked. "Alexis is growing up fast, Richard; and besides you need an heir."
Alexis, Alexandria Isabelle Dupree, was his sister, Alexandra's daughter. She became his ward at the age of six, after both her parents had died. His sister had asked him to be her guardian should anything happen to her and her husband, Lucien. He remembers thinking she was joking until less than two months later she and Lucien died. He had told everyone that they accidentally drowned in the English Channel during a storm while traveling from France to England, but they were killed. He didn't know why or by whom, but he had devoted himself to finding out. His mind eventually trailed off to the promise he had made his mother, now he had to go to the ball tomorrow night. Luckily, his dear friends, Kevin David Ryan, Earl of Stanford, and Javier Jerome Edwards, Duke of Prescott, would be in attendance.
