Free And Only to Deceive by TASHA ALEXANDER

English.”
    “No one questions Philip’s excellent character. I only ask that you remember he is dead.”
    “I know that quite well,” I said sharply.
    “I think it’s what makes him so appealing to you. After all, he’s not here to tell you to keep within the confines of good society.”
    “Well, that certainly doesn’t hurt,” I admitted, my good temper slowly returning.
    “Who is this Arthur Palmer? Is he as handsome as Colin Hargreaves?”
    “Not at all! The elder brother, Andrew, got all the good looks the family has to offer. I don’t really know him, so I can’t comment on his personality. Their father was a friend of Philip’s and is marvelous. They studied Greek antiquities together. I quite forgot I promised to locate some of Philip’s papers for him. As for Arthur, being Lord Palmer’s younger son, he has few prospects. Worse, he doesn’t seem particularly bright.”
    “He’d do well to marry a wealthy heiress.”
    “He’ll have to look elsewhere, I’m afraid. I would never be able to think of him in that way. Besides, I shall never marry again.”
    “A wise decision, Kallista. Keep control of what is yours. Why does this Palmer’s father need Philip’s papers?”
    “It concerns some work Philip was doing before he died. Lord Palmer would like to complete it and publish it as a memorial.”
    “Sounds like a fitting tribute,” she said with a sigh. The carriage slowed as we approached our destination. “I fear this will be another tedious night.”
    Happily, her prediction proved to be incorrect; the evening was quite entertaining. Mr. Bennett’s house was an exercise in excess, filled nearly to bursting with flamboyant works of art and eclectic objects he had collected on his travels around the world. I do not know that one could say it was a tastefully decorated home, but it did an excellent job of capturing its owner’s character.
    “Lady Ashton!” I heard a bright voice calling to me.
    “Miss Seward, I am so pleased to see you.” Miss Seward had caused no small measure of controversy when I first met her at Ivy’s dinner party. Her modern ideas had clashed horribly with the more conservative ones of Sir John Harris, a friend of Ivy’s parents. Sir John was particularly outraged when Miss Seward, an American who had recently graduated from Bryn Mawr, suggested that I ought to learn read ancient Greek.
    “I meant to call on you but have not had a moment to spare. Who is your friend?”
    “Madame Cécile du Lac, Miss Margaret Seward,” I said, making the introduction. As always when she met a new acquaintance, Cécile quickly evaluated Miss Seward; this time she looked as if she approved.
    “ Enchantée, Margaret,” Cécile said. “Kallista has told me about you. Your dress is most interesting. I shall speak to you about it later.” She left without another word before Miss Seward could reply.
    “Does she disapprove of my gown?” she asked, looking down at what I found to be an oddly attractive dress. Miss Seward had strayed from the constraints of fashion, appearing in a high-waisted Empire gown that clearly required no corset. It was much more flattering and elegant than the aesthetic dresses I had seen in Liberty’s, which I always thought gaveone the appearance of a rather burdened medieval matron yet must have given the wearer a similar ease of movement.
    “Quite the contrary. I imagine she wants to order one, if not several, for herself.”
    “Clearly she has excellent taste,” Miss Seward replied, smiling. “We must get some champagne. It’s the only thing capable of making this party worthwhile.” She beckoned to a footman, who quickly supplied us with full glasses. “How is your study of Homer coming along?”
    “Quite well, Miss Seward. I have considered your suggestion to attempt to learn Greek so that I can read the original, and I intend to hire a tutor when I return to England.”
    “You will not regret it.”
    “In the meantime I would very