By Tasha Alexander
London's social season is in complete swing, and Victorian aristocracy cannot cease whispering a couple of convinced gentleman who claims to be the direct descendant of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. yet he is not the one subject of wagging tongues. Drawing rooms, boudoirs, and ballrooms are abuzz with the newest information of an audacious cat burglar who has been systematically stealing precious goods that after belonged to the ill-fated queen. mild gossip turns critical whilst the landlord of 1 of the pilfered treasures is located murdered, and the mysterious thief develops a twisted obsession with girl Emily Ashton. it is going to take all of Emily's wit and perseverance to unmask her stalker and ferret out the assassin, whereas confronted with a brewing scandal that threatens either her recognition and her romance along with her past due husband's ally, the speeding Colin Hargreaves.
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Extra resources for A Poisoned Season
We entered the room, where Margaret and Cécile were in the thick of a game of chess. Jeremy sat beside Margaret, commenting on her every move. I pulled She by H. Rider Haggard off a shelf. With effort, I forced myself to follow the adventures of Ludwig Horace Holly and the exotic queen, Ayesha, She Who Must Be Obeyed, though all the while I was wondering if Lord Pembroke loved Isabelle enough to take her to Scotland. When an hour had passed, I put down the book, marched back to the drawing room and knocked loudly on the door, waiting a few moments before opening it.
Colin is immersed in his work. Furthermore—” “Yes, but Emily, you are gaining a reputation as an eccentric who would prefer to spend her time buried in the library instead of on more . . er . . ” “Excellent. ” “You know that I fully support your studies, but I do wish you would, perhaps, temper your approach to the Season. ” “I never thought I would hear such criticism from you,” I said. Ivy looked as if she would crumple. “Don’t be upset, dear. ” I was unable to continue, as Davis opened the door and announced Jeremy.
The window had been locked when I went to bed; now it was open. All at once the darkness of my room was terrifying. Was I alone? Or was the intruder hiding, watching me? Summoning all the courage I could, I lit the lamp beside my bed. The light revealed nothing immediately, and I was too afraid to do a thorough search. I tapped on Cécile’s door, but she did not answer. She had not yet returned home. I started to reach for the bell but did not want to wait alone for my maid. Rushing upstairs to the servants’ quarters, I pounded on Davis’s door.