‘Yourself?’ Margaret said with an arched brow.

‘Yes, actually!’ Bridget said, looking around the table. Her eyes glowed as green as Callie’s, but with her petulance on full display, she no longer reminded me of my lost love. ‘I still don’t know why I ran out on the party.’

Margaret rolled her eyes. Lydia shook her head.

‘I mean, you should have seen the looks I got!’ she started up, waving her knife in the air for emphasis. ‘Flora’s dress was the worst, especially considering she’s a newly married woman. And my new sash – oh no, was it ruined last night? I would hate to have it ruined! Mama! Was it on me when Stefan brought me home? We have to go back to the park and look for it!’

‘How about we go back to the park and look for the person who tried to kill you,’ Margaret suggested.

‘We’ve already had a discussion with Inspector Warren about it. He promises a thorough investigation,’ Mrs Sutherland said. ‘But, Bridget, you must promise not to run off from the Chesters’ ball this evening or I will be forced to stand watch over you in your bedroom.’

Bridget crossed her arms over her chest with a huff.

‘And neither shall you run off,’ Mrs Sutherland said more pointedly to Lydia. The middle sister blushed.

‘Lydia has fallen in love with an Italian count,’ Bridget confided, her pout evaporating as she indulged in gossip. ‘We all hope he asks her hand in marriage – wouldn’t that be splendid? Then we’d all be like royalty, sort of, and not just rich merchants. Imagine, Lydia a countess!’

Winfield laughed nervously. ‘Bridget…’

Bridget fluttered her thick eyelashes. ‘It’s so wonderful that Lydia has a suitor, much less a count. After Meggie was wed, I was afraid Mother and Papa would become traditional and not let me marry until Lydia did and who knew how long that was going to take.’