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"I am quite famous for my intuition, you know. Nothing gets past me." Lady Alford tossed her head. "So naturally I knew that there was something about the sciatica story that did not quite ring true. And my next question was—why should they wish to put about a false story? Well. It eventually emerged that there had been an incident—an incident that a number of people witnessed, in fact—in which Cecil Townley publicly raved about black magic, and shouted about being attacked by ghosts!"

Pomona scarcely dared to look at West. Did her mother know that she had been involved?

"At any rate, after the way that Bertha has treated me, I could see no reason to keep that information to myself!" Lady Alford snorted as she took another drink of dessert wine. "And of course, she had been bragging to anyone who would listen that her son was about to be appointed to the Cabinet, and that he would be Prime Minister one day. Well, that is unlikely now! But the best part is that it is such a scandalous piece of gossip that nobody is talking about Monsieur Mazarine.”

In the drawing room, the golden damask wallpaper almost seemed to glow. The chairs and settees, newly reupholstered, were arrayed on a thick Turkey carpet, and despite the size and formality of the room it managed to be welcoming and somehow snug, especially on a cold late autumn evening.

Lady Alford, who hadn’t seen the room since it had been finished, studied it through narrowed eyes. “Humph! It looks well enough, I suppose. Of course, had Monsieur Mazarine been here to take charge of the final details, there would have been an ineffable quality—a certain je ne sais quoi—that only he could have supplied. It is a great shame that it was all spoiled.”

Lady Alford’s ruthlessness was no secret to Pomona. But even so, the casual glee that her mother had taken in destroying Townley’s life was a little frightening.

On the other hand, Townley had gone unpunished for attempted murder—so he deserved it.

The footmen brought in the tea things and she began to make tea. The gentlemen joined them from the dining room. Charles accepted a glass of madeira and stood by the fire. “Well, I am extremely glad to see you looking so well, West. I had wondered whether you would be recovered enough to be present for the opening of Parliament.”

“We were most pleased when Dr. Farnham did at last rule that it was safe for us to travel,” said Pomona.

"Well, it was a very bad business indeed. A ball from a dueling pistol is no small thing. Had you not moved at the last minute, there can be little doubt that you would not be standing here now. And they did not catch the fool who did it?”

“Unfortunately, no.” West turned to poke the fire. “There was a great deal of confusion at the time. It is, er… thought that a weapon accidentally discharged.”

Charles’ expression sharpened. “I see. Well. So soldiers are now armed with dueling pistols? What an interesting piece of information. And on a completely unrelated note, that was a most informative story that my mother told just now—was it not?”

The corners of West’s mouth quirked up for just a moment. “Yes. It was.”

“I do wonder where Townley could have received such... upsetting notions about black magic and ghosts and so forth.” Charles looked at his sister.

“Yes. It is very odd.” Pomona tried to look innocent.

“Poor man,” said Celia, her dimples making an appearance. “I suppose that his mind was quite overset.”

Lady Alford looked over with an irritable frown. “What are the four of you laughing about now?”

“Why, nothing important, ma'am,” answered Pomona. “May I pour you some tea?”

“And so you are still forging ahead with your own reforms?” Charles sat down with West. “You seem to be putting into practice the notions that we used to debate years ago.”

“Well, if not now, then when?” West leaned forward, a gleam in his eyes. “It ought not to be a radical notion that children under the age of twelve should not be working a hundred feet underground in dangerous conditions. In fact, if the owners of mines could see what they really are like, they might undertake more safety measures.”

“You may be right.” Charles swirled his madeira. “And I hope that you will mention your experience in your speech for the Lords. You may wake some of the more elderly members out of their slumbers.” He reached out to clap West on the shoulder. Pomona saw him freeze mid-movement. He stared at his own large hand with almost comical horror. “Good God!” he blurted. “Your shoulder! I beg your pardon!”

The two men began to laugh. Pomona felt such pure happiness at seeing her brother and her husband on friendly terms again that she had to swallow hard, and focus her attention on pouring a cup of tea for Celia.

“Well, this development with Townley may change the equation,” added Charles. “We may yet see a little moderation in these new bills.”

“Are you two speaking of politics?” Lady Alford complained.

“Ma’am, we are at such a juncture in this country as to make it difficult to ignore politics.”

Lady Alford waved an irritable hand. “Oh, this country is always at some juncture or another. It never stops. And I, for one, am sick of it.”

Lady Theodosia sat down next to Pomona. “I am very happy for you, my dear.” Her voice was low. “This is everything that I could have hoped for you. I know that you had many misgivings. However, I never doubted that you would be happy with the duke.”

“I believe that you saw that before I did." She squeezed her great aunt's hand. "And I cannot tell you how happy I am that you are here. I missed you so much."

“Well, now that we are both returned to London, we must have a long visit to discuss everything. I am sure that you can shed more light on this odd story about Mr. Townley.” Her eyes were sparkling.

“Great Aunt Theodosia, I wish to apologize for being such a troublesome creature all the time that I lived with you. I—I know now that you gave up many opportunities to visit your friends simply because I had no other friends. I did not see how much you were sacrificing at the time.”