Page 51 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal

“No need for apologies. I know you meant no harm. I don’t want you to feel you must edit your thoughts and words around me. I’m not sure it would have even mattered if I had seen him with his mother.” Candace shrugged. “He doubtless would have pretended they had an excellent relationship.”

“He was a skilled actor, to be sure.”

“That may be to his benefit.” Candace lifted her chin and skirted the edge of a puddle. “If rumor is to be believed, he’s gambling his way through his inheritance. He very well may be in want of a profession to support himself before long—acting may be just the thing.”

“Candace, Vera!” The commanding call had them turning to see the baroness walking up the street. Her long strides quickly brought her even with them. “Enjoying a morning stroll?”

Candace nodded. “The household was in want of a few items.”

“It’s good you’re there to give it a woman’s touch. Men don’t see the needs of a house the way we do—they seem to think that if the roof is sound and there’s a comfortable place to sit, that’s the end of it.”

Candace arched an eyebrow. It surprised her to hear the baroness speak in such a way. Perhaps it was because the lady rode astride and was rarely unarmed. Today, her weapon of choice was a thick black walking stick that matched perfectly with her long grey coat, black trousers, and the charcoal riding hat pinned at a jaunty angle upon her head. A great quantity of white lace tufted at her throat and around her wrists. No one could claim that the baroness didn’t wear her eccentricities exceedingly well.

“Indeed,” Vera said. “Candace just purchased quilts for the servants to make them more comfortable. She’s placed an order for sitting chairs for their rooms, as well.”

“I’ll have to see to the comfort of my servants to ensure you don’t steal them all away once they hear of it. It’s the mark of a good lady when she cares for her household staff in such a way.”

Candace frowned, uncomfortable with the compliment. She was just doing what was right; no one should thank her for it. “I should imagine your staff is quite happily settled if you believe so.”

The baroness smiled. “You ladies should join me for luncheon, if you’ve finished with your shopping.”

“Oh, thank you, but—” Candace began.

“I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer, especially since, as they say, you don’t have your bullet in the chamber on the topic. Feel free to return home and refresh yourselves first, if you must. Luncheon will be served at one.”

Then she stalked away up the street as if the matter had been decided.

Vera turned to Candace. “Have you ever heard such a saying? About the bullet and the chamber, I mean?”

“I have not.”

CHAPTER 16- CANDACE

From the Quentin Daily-

The baron’s mad bride! Reports are coming in from the countryside of a concerning nature regarding a specific baron who hasn’t been seen in society in many years. The mystery has been solved! Though some close to him and his wife claim that they just prefer the quiet nature of country living, we’ve discovered the truth! The baroness is afflicted with Moon Madness, and has to be locked away in the attic every full moon lest she claw at furniture and servant alike!

At quarter to one o’clock, the carriage bumped to a gentle stop in the circular drive of the baroness’s house. The feather on Candace’s sea-green hat bobbed with the motion. She wore a dress in the same color silk satin, the jacket trimmed with a tight pleated grosgrain ribbon a few shades darker. Her gloves were the softest kid leather, dyed to match the ensemble. Deep-grey pearls adorned her earlobes.

Vera hadn’t fared so well in her toilette. Though Hortense had arranged her hair beautifully, her dress was a distraction. Candace had spent the entire trip to the baroness’s manor trying to think of the best way to describe such a color of orange, ultimately deciding it was the color of a rotten persimmon.

Candace longed to lean over and prod the shoulders. It appeared as if padding had been added to give the impression of weight, making Vera’s neck appear much shorter than it truly was. The matching hat—which resembled a deflated souffle—only added to the ills of the ensemble.

Candace frowned out the window at the grand house and thought of the letter she’d sent the first day they’d arrived in Devon.

“It’s a lovely house, isn’t it?” Vera said.

Candace winced inwardly at her criticism of her friend’s dress. “Very beautiful.”

The house was white with a symmetrical facade interspersed with intricate wood trimming at the eaves that made it resemble a large gingerbread house.

Before they’d fully exited the carriage, the glossy black front door was thrown open.

“Welcome!” the baroness shouted, hurrying down the front steps.

She wore a set of trim navy trousers topped with a voluminous matching coat. Candace supposed that such a garment could be passed off as a dress if the baroness walked more slowly. However, that never seemed to be the case with the woman—she was down the front steps in what felt like an instant, clutching Candace’s hands warmly in her own.

“I’m glad you ladies came. Come in.” She charged back up the steps.