Quick, Amanda

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you?"
    "No."
    "Why so secretive? Sooner or later I am bound to learn her identity. You know how gossip flows in
    Society." She paused, tilting her head slightly to one side in a quizzical fashion. "Unless, of course, your
    new friend does not move in Society."
    He stood, reaching for the newspaper. "If you will excuse me, I am going to go upstairs and rest for a
    while."
    "Very well, I give up, at least for now." She rose. "It is clear that you are not going to indulge my
    curiosity. But sooner or later—" She broke off, glancing at the paper in his hand. "I did not know that
    you read the Flying Intelligencer, Adam. It is not your sort of paper at all. It thrives on the most exciting
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    sort of sensation and gossip."
    "I assure you, this is the first and only copy I have ever purchased"
    "You were lucky to get it." She started toward the door. "Mrs. Fordyce's latest novel is being serialized
    in it. She is very popular. I expect the copies will be sold out quickly. In fact, I made certain to
    sendWilloughby off to find a newsboy first thing this morning. I couldn't bear to risk missing the next
    chapter of The Mysterious Gentleman."
    A sense of impending doom struck him. "I did not realize that you read Mrs. Fordyce's work."
    "Yes, indeed. Her new story is the best one to date, as far as I am concerned. The villain is a man
    named Edmund Drake. We do not know what he is about yet, but it is obvious that he has wicked
    intentions toward the heroine, Lydia Hope."
    He felt his jaw tighten. "So I have been told."
    She paused at the door. "Rest assured, he will meet a dreadful end. Mrs. Fordyce's last villain was taken
    off to spend his remaining days confined in an insane asylum. I expect she has something equally dire
    planned for Edmund Drake."
    A short time later in the privacy of his bedchamber, he freed himself of his tie, waistcoat and shirt and
    settled down on the bed to get some badly needed rest. He tried to focus his thoughts on the next step in
    his plans to locate the diary, but for some bizarre reason he kept returning to the matter of Caroline
    Fordyce.
    She was certainly not his usual type. But in other ways she fit what Julia was pleased to call his rules
    quite well. She was not an innocent young lady like Jessica, who had to be guarded as closely as a chest
    of gold until she was married off to a suitable husband. Nor was she the wife of a friend or a business
    associate, another category of female he was careful to avoid.
    She was a widow and likely a rather worldly one at that. Surely only a woman of considerable
    experience could write the sort of lurid, melodramatic plots that made sensation novels all the rage.
    Judging by her house and gown, Caroline certainly did not control a fortune but she did appear to be
    making a comfortable living with her writing. True, she did not move in elevated social circles, but that
    was an excellent thing, he decided. There would be less likelihood of gossip.
    He groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm. He had enough problems at the moment. The last
    thing he should be considering was the possibility of having an affair with Caroline Fordyce.
    Unfortunately, he seemed to be able to think of very little else.
FOUR
    When Caroline walked into the study later that afternoon, she found her aunts waiting for her. They were
    seated in front of the hearth, drinking tea. They looked at her expectantly.
    "Well?" Milly demanded with her usual enthusiasm.
    `There is no question about it. The mysterious gentle-man who called on me early this morning did,
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    indeed, tell the truth." Caroline sat down behind her desk. "Elizabeth Delmont was murdered last night
    after the séance. So much for the possibility that Mr. Grove, or whatever his name may be, is either mad
    or a mischief-making trickster."
    It had been a weak hope but

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