Page 118 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

Lady Phoebe shook her head. ‘The pink.’

‘You know I prefer the blue.’

‘I did not know you were such an expert on evening wear, Waldo,’ Ashford said, and he was stepping forward, too. ‘What colour do you think I ought to wear?’

At last, Sir Waldo dropped Lady Phoebe’s chin.

‘I’m sure you will always do exactly as you wish, Ashford,’ he said. ‘If you will excuse me, I have to attend to some business.’

He nodded toward his study and, to Lydia’s horror, reached a hand into his pocket for his keys. Keys which Lydia still had grasped in her hand. Sir Waldo frowned, encountering only emptiness within.

‘What?’ he muttered.

Lydia did the only thing she could think of. Stooping, she pretended to pick something off the ground.

‘Are these your keys, Sir Waldo?’ she asked. ‘They were on the floor.’

‘Must have dropped them,’ he said. ‘Thank you, Miss Hanworth.’

Lady Phoebe clapped her hands together.

‘Well, time is ticking on,’ she asked brightly. ‘Come, Miss Hanworth, and I shall show you your domino.’

They walked away.

‘Would you prefer a lilac domino?’ Lady Phoebe asked chattily. ‘Or a green?’

‘Phoebe—’ Ashford began, but Lady Phoebe cut across him.

‘I am the only one wearing red, of course – the hostess’ prerogative.’

The smile on her face was rictus and false, and the bright sparkle of the diamonds, which eight nights previous, had only added to her lustre, now only emphasized the pallor of her face, the darkness under her eyes that not even powder could quite cover.

‘Phoebe, what is going on?’ Ashford said.

‘What do you mean?’ she said. ‘Nothing is going on!’

‘I don’t – I – I don’t even know what I am meant to ask,’ Ashford said. ‘But something is very wrong and you must tell me, so that I might fix it.’

‘Stop talking!’ Lady Phoebe said. ‘Stop – we will be heard.’

Muttering an oath, she seized Ashford’s arm, pushed open a door and pulled him into a side room. Lydia followed, uncertainly – this felt as if it was a family matter, but she was not about to miss it unless she was told otherwise.

Lady Phoebe took a hasty turn about the room, biting at her thumbnail.

‘Phoebe …’ Ashford said again. ‘Speak.’

With a discernible effort, Lady Phoebe drew herself to a stop. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘Leaving what?’

‘Everything,’ she said. ‘This house, my life, Waldo – all of it. I can’t do it anymore.’

‘I don’t understand.’

But Lydia did. She looked from Lady Phoebe, down to the necklace, and back again.

‘The necklace was missing,’ Lydia said slowly. ‘But you took it, didn’t you?’