Somewhat Scandalous (Brambridge Novel 1) by Pearl Darling

into fists, he caught Victoria’s gaze and held it, unable to look at the prone woman on the floor. “There will be no more experiments in my house, Agatha. Do you hear?”
    Agatha moaned and sat up. “I agree the phosphorous was a bit of a mistake.”
    “A mistake?” Henry roared. She had no idea . “The mistake was you coming to live with us.”
    With a growl he strode to the door and ran up the stairs to his room. Dear God, why had she chosen to provoke him before he had even had time to have breakfast?
     

CHAPTER 7
     
    Agatha sighed and pressed herself against the wall of the hallway. If it hadn’t been for Victoria, Agatha would have gone back to Devon to find her brother, as a very last resort mind. It was his fault she was in London. He was the one that had sent Horrible Henry to harry her. If only Peter wasn’t so insufferable when he was painting—only his wife and his small daughter could stand him. Six months it had been now, and it seemed that she had just exchanged one set of stifling constrictions for another.
    Agatha sidled further back behind one of the artistically-placed pot plants. The corridor at Hanover Square Rooms was draughty. Agatha shivered slightly. The plant poked her again on the shoulder, its razor sharp leaves leaving little dots on her arm. She imagined plucking one off and pushing it in the side of the next lady who compared her ordinariness to the beauty of Victoria.
    She stilled her hands as they reached for the leaf. Ladies did not brandish knives. Henry had made that very clear. They also did not go for walks alone, ride horses astride or mix water with salt on the dining room table to discover how soluble it was despite Mrs. B.’s extensive coverage of the experiment. In fact mentioning Mrs. B. was now a very taboo subject in the house in Mount Street. Especially as it had taken several weeks for Victoria’s eyebrows to regrow.
    She wrinkled her nose. It seemed that none of the things that she liked doing were compatible with living within sight of the beau monde. They were all consideredsomewhat scandalous.
    “Aggie, over here!” Victoria poked her head into the hall from the doorway to the large ballroom, the soft light accentuating her blonde hair and creamy skin. “Have you done it yet?”
    Agatha shook her head and mouthed a no. She shooed Victoria away with her hands. Victoria left with a soft swish of her skirts and a giggle.
    Pulling her wrap lightly round her, Agatha glanced up and down the empty hall, cursing the day that she had revealed more of the secrets of her childhood to Victoria in an effort to fill the boring hours that had been left behind after all their experimental activity had been curtailed. Perhaps she might have exaggerated some of them slightly. She had illicitly tasted whisky and, cigars, all in the name of science of course, and flirted with the footman because human biological interaction was science, wasn’t it ?
    And then she was beaten again and shut up in her room. But she hadn’t told Victoria that part.
    Just as she hadn’t revealed everything. The fact that she could nearly hit a target with a throwing knife at ten paces. That she had practiced and practiced in secret because after the book on mechanical principles had been burned, she had been shut up in her room all day with nothing but a knife and potatoes to peel as an endless punishment. It had seemed a fitting way to put into practice something called centripetal force the book had mentioned. Agatha flexed her fingers again, gazing longingly at the sharp leaves. Hah. Lucky Henry didn’t know about that. You should have never come here, he’d said. Perhaps she shouldn’t, but then she’d had nowhere else to go.
    Her body stilled as she saw the handsome man she was waiting for emerge from the door nearest the entrance hall. He straightened his cravat as he walked and pulled fastidiously at his breeches.
    She wished she had left more time to visit the powder room. Agatha was