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often wears nearly forty pounds of clothing. The sheer weight of her skirts and corsets would draw her down to the bottom as surely as if she were chained to a boulder.”

    Louisa shuddered. “True.” She consulted her notes again. “You said you did not know her well.”

    “No. I don’t believe she had any family connections of her own to speak of. I met her occasionally at various social affairs, but that was the extent of our acquaintance.”

    “Her maid told me that Hastings was in the habit of discussing his business affairs with her. It is rather uncommon for a husband to do that. He must have admired her intelligence.”

    Emma nodded. “She seemed to me to be a very shrewd woman. I can well imagine that she had a head for financial matters.”

    Louisa closed the notebook again and leaned back in her chair. “There is something that worries me about Mr. Stalbridge.”

    Emma raised her brows. “I am pleased to see that your intuition is functioning well. Tell me, what is it that alarms you? Aside from the fact that he knows how to break into a safe, of course.” She paused for emphasis. “I trust you do realize that is a rather unusual talent for a gentleman?”

    “I admit that skill does raise a few questions, but what concerns me the most is that he appears to be obsessed with the notion that Fiona Risby did not commit suicide. I got the impression last night that he would go to any lengths to prove that she was murdered.”

    Emma gave a small shrug. “I expect it is because he would like to clear his own name.”
    Louisa stopped drumming her fingers. “What on earth are you talking about?”

    “You were not moving in Society last year at the time of Fiona’s death. You did not hear the rumors that circulated.”

    “What sort of rumors?”

    “There was gossip to the effect that Mr. Stalbridge was about to end his engagement to Miss Risby at the time. Some said that the prospect of facing the humiliation of being jilted was what drove Miss Risby to take her own life.”

    Louisa shuddered. “Any woman who is rejected by her fiancé certainly finds herself in a dreadful situation as far as Society is concerned. But would she resort to suicide?”

    “It wouldn’t be the first time. A jilted woman becomes something of a pariah in the Polite World. There are those who would have expected her to retire from Society altogether, as though she were a widow in the first year of mourning.”

    “Was she from a wealthy family?” Louisa asked. She told herself it was the journalist in her that was interested in the answer. She had no personal curiosity about the woman Anthony had chosen for his bride.

    “Yes, indeed,” Emma said. “The Risby fortune is quite substantial. The fact that Fiona was an heiress would certainly have gone some distance toward easing her plight. There were bound to be other suitors. Also, she was very lovely. A charming young lady, indeed. I’m sure her father could have found another eligible gentleman for her. Nevertheless, the experience of being cast aside by Stalbridge would have caused enormous distress for her and her family.”

    “I see.”

    Of course Fiona Risby had been rich, beautiful, and charming. What else? Louisa picked up a pen and did a little staccato on the desktop.
    “The marriage was considered an excellent match,” Emma continued. “Both families were exceedingly pleased. The Stalbridges and the Risbys have been close friends for years. Their estates in the North march side by side.”

    “I see,” Louisa repeated. She realized she was tapping the pen tip with such force now that she was leaving little marks on the blotter. She made herself put the writing instrument down.

    “I should mention that there were other rumors last year,” Emma continued somberly. “Rumors that were far worse than those concerning a broken engagement.”

    Shocked, Louisa straightened. She did not take her eyes off Emma’s face. “Surely no one suggested