Free Ripper by Amy Carol Reeves

will his fiancée, Mariah Crawley. She is Violet’s ward. She is your age and a trifle libertine, but otherwise … ” Grandmother’s voice trailed off a bit. “The point is, as I told you last week, there is someone at the party whom Catherine and I very much wish for you to meet: Chester Clairmont. He is Cecil’s nephew. He is a student of the law, not much older than you, and the Clairmonts are an excellent family.”
    We had stopped. The carriage ride only lasted a few blocks, given that Catherine also lived in Kensington; it was quite ridiculous that we took a carriage at all.
    The driver stepped down to open Grandmother’s door.
    â€œIf Chester is not much older than me, how old is Mr. Clairmont?” I asked. I was perplexed at the thought of Cecil Clairmont marrying a girl my age.
    Instead of answering me, Grandmother merely turned as she stepped out of the carriage, her eagle eyes sharp on my face. She clenched her teeth a bit.
    â€œI know you were raised among the Irish, Arabella, but, once again, do not embarrass me tonight.”
    She smiled daggers.

    The party proved to be as dull as I had expected. It was suffocatingly small, with only Lady Catherine, Lady Violet, Mariah, Cecil, and Chester in attendance.
    Cecil was in fact old, at least fifty. Chester was twenty-one and the spitting younger image of his uncle. As I had expected, Catherine seated me next to him at the table. Despite being young, Chester had terrible allergies and was already balding. He talked the entire meal about himself, about his law studies and travels. I tried to be polite, but he bored me out of my mind.
    Mariah, across the table next to Cecil, appeared much more interesting.
    Tall. Elegant. With her black curly hair piled high on her head, Mariah might have been a model for the sketches in the magazines I browsed. But she looked even lovelier than the magazine illustrations due to her bold and distinct aura. She talked very little during the dinner conversation, and yet her sharp eyes did not miss anything. Once she caught my eye and smiled.
    Mariah’s demeanor intrigued me, particularly as, in spite of her well-dressed appearance, she seemed a misfit here at the Kensington dinner. I wanted to speak to her, but it was difficult to escape Chester. Finally, when she left the table to refill her glass, I drained my own, excused myself from Chester, and followed her.
    While we stood near the punch bowl, she took a nearby plate of gooseberry pie and, without even bothering with utensils, began to eat it, staining her fingers sticky red in the process. She did not seem to care about the stains, and after licking her fingers a bit, she wiped them clean with a napkin.
    Catherine had already introduced us earlier, and now, to make conversation, I congratulated her on her engagement.
    She lowered her voice, even though we were well out of earshot of the rest of the dinner party.
    â€œThank you, but you should know that the wedding is never going to happen.”
    â€œExcuse me?” I nearly choked on my drink.
    â€œThe date is set for early January, but of course I’m not marrying him. Just look at him. Can you imagine what a dull life that would be?”
    As discretely as possible, I glanced at the table. Catherine, Violet, and Grandmother continued to chatter; Chester Clairmont watched Mariah and me and looked about ready to refill his drink, too. Cecil Clairmont had already fallen asleep at his seat and was beginning to snore.
    â€œAll right. You’re absolutely correct,” I said quickly. Chester rose from the table. Mariah and I didn’t have much time. “So why are you engaged to him?”
    â€œMakes things a bit more fun, doesn’t it?” She winked. “I have a lover, and we’re planning to run off the night before the wedding. The whole thing will make a splash. It will be quite scandalous. In fact, I doubt Lady Westfield will want you to be my friend