Free A Most Novel Revenge by Ashley Weaver Page A

we walked toward our rooms, I couldn’t rid myself of an uneasy feeling. Something about the exchange we had overheard was bothering me, and I realized suddenly what it was. Desmond Roberts was besotted with Isobel Van Allen, but there had been more than love in his voice. There had been anger and something more: desperation.
    Both emotions could prove dangerous.

 
    7
    I DRESSED FOR dinner feeling very much as though I was attending an execution rather than an evening meal at a country estate.
    I didn’t know what to make of Isobel Van Allen or of the conversation I had overheard between her and Mr. Roberts. Why should she want to keep her book a secret from her secretary? Granted, he was not operating solely in a professional capacity where she was concerned, but it seemed she should have wanted to confide in him if no one else.
    She had told me it was not always possible to follow the heart. What had she meant? Why had she come back seven years later to gather the members of that ill-fated party together?
    I tried and failed to think of what her motive might be. Though it was perfectly apparent she didn’t care what others thought of her, I didn’t think that she was motivated by malice alone. If it had been only that, she could have come back long ago. Or she might have written the book from the comforts of her home in Kenya with the handsome Mr. Roberts to type for her. She might have whipped up a scandal from half a world away if that had been her inclination.
    No, there was some other reason she had chosen to return to Lyonsgate, to make this very public announcement. For some reason she had wanted to be back at the scene of the tragedy and to face the participants. Was it possible that she herself was searching for answers?
    Perhaps tonight we would find out.
    â€œYou look positively downcast, darling,” Milo observed as he came into my room tying his necktie. “What’s troubling you?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said. “There’s something wrong in all of this, and I can’t quite decide what it is. It’s just so very odd that Reggie Lyons should have called everyone here. Why should they all be willing to come? If I had been here, I don’t think I could be induced to set foot on the spot again.”
    Milo shrugged. “It was unfortunate, yes, but there is no reason why everyone should wish to avoid Lyonsgate forever. After all, I’d wager that there isn’t a country house in the whole of England that hasn’t been touched by death. Heaven knows how many people have died at Thornecrest.”
    It was not a comforting thought, and I hoped it would not occur to me the next time we visited our country house.
    â€œIn any event,” he went on, “it’s safe to assume most of the gentlemen were in the war, and half the women lost someone to it. It’s not as though they would be strangers to death.”
    â€œYou’re right,” I said, “which only proves my point. There’s something else that is going on here. If it was as simple as a dreadful accident, it wouldn’t have affected everyone so deeply.”
    â€œWhy don’t you ask your cousin?”
    â€œI have. She doesn’t really know much about it. She was not close to any of them, you know. She had only recently been invited into their circle. I don’t think she was aware of everything that was happening at the time.”
    â€œIt’s really none of our concern,” Milo said. He was, as usual, supremely uninterested in anything that did not affect him directly. “Let them go on clawing at each other. At least the wine is good.”
    â€œMilo, I do wish you would be serious.”
    â€œI am being serious, darling. But you become much too invested in people who are all perfect strangers to us. In fact, I don’t see why you should be concerned with it at all.”
    â€œBut I…”
    â€œYes, darling, I know,” he