When she was shown into Kate’s drawing room, she saw her friend had other guests.
“Caro, what on earth are you doing back so soon?” Her friend rose to greet her. “You and Val are well, I hope?”
Accepting her hug, Caro rushed to reassure her. “We’re fine. We simply”—she looked at the assembled company, not wishing to reveal too much before strangers—“decided we’d rather be in London than Brighton.”
Kate gave her a knowing look. “You’re just in time, then, to meet the newest members of our salon.”
Caro turned to her friend in surprise. So far as she knew, there had been no plans for a salon meeting today. Unless something had happened while she was away?
Taking a seat in her favorite overstuffed chair, she gratefully accepted a cup of tea from Kate and glanced at the two other women seated at the tea table.
“This is Miss Lucy Penhallow.” Kate gestured to a pretty young woman with large blue eyes and butter-yellow curls. “She is a cousin of Andrews’s if you’ll believe it. I can’t wait to introduce them.”
“I’ve been quite eager to meet him ever since I learned of the connection.” Miss Penhallow grinned. “The rest of our family are deadly dull. Of course, I’ve read your column since it started running in The Gazette. I was telling Lady Katherine that I was unable to come sooner because I was waiting to escape my dragon of a chaperone. She’s finally gone to visit her mother in Scotland for a week, so here I am.”
Caro blinked at the stream of words, which had been delivered almost in one breath. She could very well see that a chaperone would have her work cut out with this girl. “I’m so pleased you were able to come at last, Miss Penhallow.” She gave her a warm smile. It was difficult to imagine any blood connection between this young woman and the taciturn Andrew Eversham, but she supposed all sorts happened in families.
“And this is Lady Tate,” Kate said of her other guest. “I believe you visited her home last week, Caroline?”
Caro, who had choked on her tea at Kate’s introduction, took a moment to regain her composure. “Lady Tate,” she said, after clearing her throat, “what a delight to meet you. I indeed enjoyed some delicious pastries at your home.”
“I was so cross to learn that the Miss Caroline Hardcastle had called while I was out.” Lady Tate, a handsome brunette with a wide smile and a petite build, spoke with more emotion than was usually encouraged in ladies of her station. “I’ve read all of your columns, Miss Hardcastle. As I was telling Lady Katherine, I’d never worked up the courage to write or come to one of your salons, but when I received her invitation to tea, I knew I could not refuse.”
At Caro’s questioning look, Kate said, “I remembered your comment about Lady Tate being an admirer of ours, and when I received Lucy’s request to pay a call this afternoon, I sent a note round to Lady Tate as well.”
It was a plausible enough explanation, but Caro knew her friend must have had another reason to wish to speak with Lady Tate. She’d simply have to be patient until Kate could disclose her thinking once the callers left.
The four chatted amiably about crime and their own lives before the subject of Caro’s wedding came up.
“Lord Wrackham and I left for Brighton just this morning,” she said with a laugh, “but I found I was too worried about my dear cat, Ludwig. My friend who usually looks after him when I’m out of town was unable to do so this time, and I simply couldn’t rest knowing he was alone.”
“But isn’t he alone now?” Miss Penhallow asked, with more logic than Caro was comfortable needing an explanation for at the moment.
“Oh, he’s with my maid. She’d gone with us to Brighton, so now that we’re both back, he’s quite happy again.”
“Brighton is lovely at this time of year,” Lady Tate said with feeling. “I don’t get to the coast nearly as much as I’d like these days.”
Caroline’s pulse picked up. “But you were just there visiting your sister, were you not?” After all, Tate’s alibi for the day of Effie’s disappearance had been that he and his wife were visiting her sister in Brighton.
The dark-haired woman looked confused. “I’m not sure where you heard that, but I have no relations in Brighton. I haven’t been in nearly three years.”
Caro touched her forehead. “I beg your pardon. I must have confused something your husband told Lord Wrackham the other day with an anecdote from one of the wedding guests. Really, I’m not sure if I’m coming or going.”
The moment of awkwardness passed, and soon enough, Kate was bidding her guests goodbye.
“They’re gone now,” Kate said when they heard the front door shut. “Tell me why you’re back so soon.”
Caro explained how she and Val had learned at the Hen and Hound that Effie’s natural father was the uncle of the present Lord Croyden. “The crest on the seal from Effie’s house matches the Croyden coat of arms, which means he’s been in correspondence with her.”
“And would have every reason to wish she’d disappear. Especially if he feared she would publicize the connection.”
Unable to sit still, Caro paced before the fireplace. “But if Croyden is responsible for Effie’s disappearance, then why would Lord Tate lie about where he was the day she was abducted?”
“Oh, I’d forgotten.” Kate gasped. “He said he and his wife were in Brighton on the day she vanished. Of course.”
“What if it’s not Croyden at all?” Caro asked in a rush. “What if it’s always been Tate, but we were simply too ready to believe his lie about being away on the day Effie was taken?”
“The man lied to you and his household. He even went so far as to purchase sweets, claiming they were from Brighton.” Kate gave her a sympathetic pat on the arm. “You can hardly be expected to have seen through it.”
But Caro was already thinking back over what Val had related to her about his conversation with Tate that day. “I think I may know where he could be hiding her.”
“Where?” Kate demanded, leaning forward eagerly.
“Tate told Val he’d already purchased a house for when Effie became his mistress,” Caro explained, “but she’d refused him. What if he’s hidden her away there?”
“It’s a possibility.” Kate sat back. “A definite possibility. But how can we find it?”
“Who else would know the details of such a transaction?” Caro asked, relieved that Kate hadn’t dismissed her out of hand. “His man of business.”
“And our new friend Lady Tate would be more than happy to recommend her husband’s man of business to us.” Kate’s eyes lit with excitement.
Caro moved to the desk by the window, writing quickly.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving a note for Val and Eversham,” Caro said over her shoulder.
Kate snorted. “Barely married a day and already you’re playing by your husband’s rules.”
Caro preferred to think of her action a precaution in the event that she and Kate ran into trouble, but she didn’t argue with Kate’s assessment. She folded the note and faced her friend. “I’ll give this to your butler on the way out.”