Page 91 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

Once Grey had been shown out, and Mr. Jennings had vanished into the house, Farah followed Helena upstairs. Her friend’s bedchamber was warm from the well-fed fire, the walls hung with oil paintings of faraway landscapes and flowers. As there was no formality between them—or as there hadn’t been, anyway—Farah propped herself on the edge of Helena’s bed, running her hand over the curling embroidery that had been stitched onto the pink coverlet.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Helena said, sounding far more relaxed than she had earlier in the evening, “I’d say you were in love with Mr. Montgomery.”

Farah began to cough, despite having nothing tangible to choke on.

“So I’m right!” Helena joined Farah on the bed. “Is this because you wouldn’t stop going to the office after he refused you?”

“You could say that,” Farah allowed. “I mean—”

Helena didn’t wait for her to finish. “Good for you.” Then, her face fell. “Is it everything you dreamed of?”

As much as Farah wanted to say yes, she knew she could not. The question seemed to have snuffed out the light in Helena’s pale blue eyes, even though she had been the one to ask it. It would have been cruel, then, to answer in the affirmative—to say that yes, by and large, Farah had been correct in assuming that love was a wonderful, incomparable thing.

Once one was sure of it, of course.

She bypassed the question. “I owe you an apology.”

“Whatever for?”

“I think—I got so distracted by my own goals that I forgot to ask after you,” Farah admitted. “I’ve not checked in on you or asked you how you’ve been faring. I know things have been difficult with Mr. Jennings.”

Helena began to pick at the coverlet. “It’s nothing.”

Farah stood and began to pace about the room, restlessness invading her body and making it impossible for her to sit still. “It’s not nothing. I feel so silly. I don’t want to be the sort of person that takes anyone in my life for gr—” She was cut short by the sight of Helena’s armoire, its door half-open to reveal a row of neatly hung gowns.

“You don’t take me for granted,” Helena said. “I—Farah? Are you listening?”

With a shaky hand, Farah pushed open the doors of the wardrobe, the firelight pouring in to illuminate a gown of midnight blue. When she brushed her fingertips over it, her heart dropped into her slippers.

Velvet.

“It’s a lovely fabric, isn’t it?” Helena said from her place on the bed. “I meant to wear it to Mrs. Ramsbury’s ball, actually, with red roses woven into my hair.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It’s Andrew’s fault,” Helena huffed. “I thought I struck a lovely figure, but he told me I looked like a sausage all stuffed into it. That’s why I—”

“You know,” Farah said, turning to her friend, “I’ve been looking for a gown just like this one.”

“You’re welcome to have it,” Helena said. “I don’t think I shall ever be able to remove Andrew’s insult from my head.”

Gingerly, Farah removed it from its hanger, walked it over to the mirror, and held it against herself. God, how hadn’t she put the pieces together sooner? Especially knowing that Helena—Helena had been the only one to know what Farah was now realizing had been a crucial piece of information.

“Do you remember the one thousand pounds I told you about?”

“Yes!” Helena chirped. “The first installment of Francis’s inheritance that was being kept under lock and key at Hawkins & Montgomery. What of it?”

“It was stolen.” Farah’s eyes met Helena’s in the mirror. “We only had one clue, Mr. Montgomery and I.”

“What was that?”

“A dress of blue velvet,” Farah said. She let the dress fold over into her arms, catching sight of a small A stitched inside the collar in contrasting gold thread.

Madame Auclair, naturally.

When Helena didn’t respond, Farah whirled to face her, shocked to see tears running down her rosy cheeks. Allowing the dress to fall from her hands, she rushed back over to the bed, kneeling before her friend. “Oh, Helena. Was it you?”

Helena nodded, choking back a sob. “I’m so sorry, Farah. The first day you went to see Mr. Montgomery, and you told me all that had occurred, I—”