Free A Crimson Warning by TASHA ALEXANDER Page B

ever felt.
    “I thought you should have a notebook to chronicle your suffragette adventures,” he said. “I’m immeasurably proud of what you accomplished in Westminster.”
    “Thank you,” I said and kissed him. “It was a necessarily slow start, but a good one.” Colin had received a slew of notes from MPs imploring him to put an end to my suffragette activities. Or at least to limit them in a way that would preclude me from troubling them.
    “I appreciate you agreeing to hold off on the investigation until a time it’s appropriate for me to involve you.” He threw a neat white silk scarf around his neck. “Have you heard about today’s paint?”
    “Yes, the Althways,” I said. “Any idea why?”
    “Lord Althway has had more than his share of dodgy business deals. He’s more enemies in the British Isles than we have sailors in the navy.”
    “An obvious choice, then. All that remains, I suppose, is to see which of his dastardly deeds will no longer go unpunished.”
    Meg motioned for me to stand in front of her, stepped back, and took a long look, evaluating her work. “Perfect, madam,” she said. “You’re lovely. Will there be anything else?”
    “No, thank you,” I said.
    “I’ll make sure the carriage is waiting,” she said. “And please do consider what I said to you about Paris. We need to go as soon as possible. Your hats are in danger of being unfashionable.”
    This was a complete fallacy. My hats were in danger of nothing.
    “I should have paid better heed when I read Frankenstein, ” I said. “I know you just want to see Paris again.”
    “I’m only looking out for your best interest, madam,” Meg said. “I have my ways of keeping abreast of the latest fashions.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “The carriage?”
    “Of course, madam.”
    As soon as she’d disappeared downstairs, Colin took me in his arms and kissed me. “You’re stunning tonight. Is that a new gown?”
    “It is.” Mr. Worth, the greatest dressmaker in the world, designed it in Paris after I chose the fabric, a gorgeous midnight-blue silk that he’d covered with an intricate pattern of shimmering silver beads. My waist had never looked so tiny. I snapped a heavy sapphire necklace in place and slipped its matching bracelet over my wrist. “Something’s troubling you, my dear. What is it?” I asked.
    Colin rubbed his forehead. “Forgive me. I’ve tried in vain to distract myself. It’s this paint.”
    “Have you learned anything new?” I asked.
    “The pattern of attacks seems to be changing. Two more victims, the Fannings and Althways, before the secrets of the previous ones—the Musgraves and Riddingtons—have been revealed.”
    “It’s early in the game to be analyzing patterns,” I said.
    “True.” He started to pace, and I followed him into our bedroom. “But if my instincts are right, this man is more calculating and vicious than I’d thought. He’s interested not just in exposing these people, but in tormenting them.”
    “By making them wait?” I asked. “It would be agony wondering what he’s uncovered.”
    “I don’t think they wonder about what he’ll expose, but when . People are keenly aware of those things they wish to hide.”
    “Do you have something you wish to hide?”
    “You can’t be asking that seriously,” he said. “If I have something that must be kept from public knowledge, I keep it private. There’s no wishing involved. As for our villain, I think the torture for his victims comes from the waiting, not the wondering. They know exactly what lies in store for them.” The clock on our mantel chimed. “Come. Meg’s right, we’ll not arrive before everyone’s called to go down to dinner if we don’t get a shift on.”
    The Fannings’ house should have done nothing but sparkle that night—between the diamonds around ladies’ necks, the garden lanterns bobbing in a perfect breeze, and the thousands of candles suspended from chandeliers