moment into a thousand, painful shards.
Viola and Hugo, though they had the very picture of guilt. Lady Pelham smiled grimly; she took great delight in ensuring that the unattached observed every proprietary. Everyone needed a useful pastime and hers was crushing the youthful high spirits of those who should know better.
‘Lady Pelham.’ Viola dropped a gracious curtsey while Frame bowed stiffly.
‘Captain Frame,’ the lady drawled, raising her eyeglass so she could study him more closely, ‘I hear that you are engaged in dispersing these villains off the King’s highways.’
‘The army has been engaged to assist in putting a stop to highway robbery, yes, my Lady.’
‘And do you progress?’ she demanded, ‘is it safe to travel the roads once more?’
‘I believe so. We have patrols out at night, searching the places where highwaymen might spy out likely victims. There have certainly been fewer attacks.’
‘In the past three days? Hardly impressive.’ She narrowed her small, piggy eyes at him. It was a well known that the lady had very poor eyesight, although Viola always marveled at her ability to spot hopeful couples from anywhere in a crowded room. It would not have surprised the girl if Lady Pelham smelt potential scandal. She certainly had the nose for it. ‘Is it not true that that young scoundrel Carlisle shot one the other day?’
‘I believe so.’
‘Well? Where did they get to? Really, people who are shot do not simply vanish! You find that one and I daresay you will find them all and put a stop to this nonsense. Holding up coaches; quite unacceptable.’
As absurd as it was, a great many people in Society shared Lady Pelham’s opinion. Most seemed to believe thieves and cutthroats all herded together in some communal area. All one needed to do was find the nest and you could eradicate the rats.
It was simplistic views such as this that made men like Captain Hugo Frame wish that they were serving abroad; preferably far, far away from the un-enlisted and unenlightened.
As the Captain led Viola back towards the dancers – and consequently away from the rabid tongue of Lady Pelham – she looked up at him sympathetically.
‘I do not suppose for a moment it is that simple, is it?’
‘No,’ he agreed, with a wry shake of the head, ‘but I wish it were.’
‘Are you any closer to finding the wounded thief?’
He shrugged. ‘We are searching the area thoroughly. I am hopeful that something will turn up. All we need is a little bit of luck…’
An hour later, by design rather than good luck - for Grif was never one to trust anything other than his own arrangements - the Viscount overheard a conversation between the Marriott siblings that he found most interesting. He had caught sight of them slipping away from the crowds, which, as was usually the case with unlimited alcohol and an enormous supply of food, had relaxed enough for the more discreet couples to disappear for a little late evening entertainment. These were married people for the most part or, it should be said, married ladies. Naturally, virginal girls did not participate. Those kinds of entertainments could only be discovered after the wedding night and the appearance of an heir.
He had been keeping an eye on Miss. Marriott since they had had their conversation, knowing that, at the first opportunity, she would seek out her brother and warn him to show no sign of his injury. Not that Peregrine had been favoring it particularly, but knowing what he did; Grif knew he would find his mark.
They went out into the garden, slipping through one of the side doors. If he had not been looking for it, Grif would have missed their exit, for they proved to be rather good at disappearing, fading through the crowd to vanish into the shadows. He supposed they had chosen the garden because none but the most enthusiastic would be out there.
The few golden days that had blessed them earlier in the week had disappeared and now it
Viola and Hugo, though they had the very picture of guilt. Lady Pelham smiled grimly; she took great delight in ensuring that the unattached observed every proprietary. Everyone needed a useful pastime and hers was crushing the youthful high spirits of those who should know better.
‘Lady Pelham.’ Viola dropped a gracious curtsey while Frame bowed stiffly.
‘Captain Frame,’ the lady drawled, raising her eyeglass so she could study him more closely, ‘I hear that you are engaged in dispersing these villains off the King’s highways.’
‘The army has been engaged to assist in putting a stop to highway robbery, yes, my Lady.’
‘And do you progress?’ she demanded, ‘is it safe to travel the roads once more?’
‘I believe so. We have patrols out at night, searching the places where highwaymen might spy out likely victims. There have certainly been fewer attacks.’
‘In the past three days? Hardly impressive.’ She narrowed her small, piggy eyes at him. It was a well known that the lady had very poor eyesight, although Viola always marveled at her ability to spot hopeful couples from anywhere in a crowded room. It would not have surprised the girl if Lady Pelham smelt potential scandal. She certainly had the nose for it. ‘Is it not true that that young scoundrel Carlisle shot one the other day?’
‘I believe so.’
‘Well? Where did they get to? Really, people who are shot do not simply vanish! You find that one and I daresay you will find them all and put a stop to this nonsense. Holding up coaches; quite unacceptable.’
As absurd as it was, a great many people in Society shared Lady Pelham’s opinion. Most seemed to believe thieves and cutthroats all herded together in some communal area. All one needed to do was find the nest and you could eradicate the rats.
It was simplistic views such as this that made men like Captain Hugo Frame wish that they were serving abroad; preferably far, far away from the un-enlisted and unenlightened.
As the Captain led Viola back towards the dancers – and consequently away from the rabid tongue of Lady Pelham – she looked up at him sympathetically.
‘I do not suppose for a moment it is that simple, is it?’
‘No,’ he agreed, with a wry shake of the head, ‘but I wish it were.’
‘Are you any closer to finding the wounded thief?’
He shrugged. ‘We are searching the area thoroughly. I am hopeful that something will turn up. All we need is a little bit of luck…’
An hour later, by design rather than good luck - for Grif was never one to trust anything other than his own arrangements - the Viscount overheard a conversation between the Marriott siblings that he found most interesting. He had caught sight of them slipping away from the crowds, which, as was usually the case with unlimited alcohol and an enormous supply of food, had relaxed enough for the more discreet couples to disappear for a little late evening entertainment. These were married people for the most part or, it should be said, married ladies. Naturally, virginal girls did not participate. Those kinds of entertainments could only be discovered after the wedding night and the appearance of an heir.
He had been keeping an eye on Miss. Marriott since they had had their conversation, knowing that, at the first opportunity, she would seek out her brother and warn him to show no sign of his injury. Not that Peregrine had been favoring it particularly, but knowing what he did; Grif knew he would find his mark.
They went out into the garden, slipping through one of the side doors. If he had not been looking for it, Grif would have missed their exit, for they proved to be rather good at disappearing, fading through the crowd to vanish into the shadows. He supposed they had chosen the garden because none but the most enthusiastic would be out there.
The few golden days that had blessed them earlier in the week had disappeared and now it