A Lady Never Lies Read Free Page A

rather a different plan.”
    “Do you mean these damned horseless carriages of yours?” the duke asked.
    “Damned rubbishy machines,” put in Lord Roland.
    Finn’s gaze rose to the ceiling. “Luddites, the pair of you. In any case, a few weeks ago, my colleague in Rome, Delmonico’s his name, proposed to me the idea of holding a . . . well, I suppose you might call it a competition, a contest, in which the best examples of the machines might be displayed and judged. If enough working engines are brought to the exhibition, he expects to hold a race.”
    “A race!” Lord Roland began to laugh. “A race! What earthly use is that? I daresay I could walk faster than any of your contraptions.”
    “The exhibition,” Finn said, ignoring him, “is to be held in the summer, on the outskirts of Rome.”
    “I begin to see your scheme, old man,” Wallingford said darkly.
    “I shall need the most absolute calm, in order to concentrate on the project without any distractions. And it occurred to me, you see, that a year spent in the peace and tranquility of the countryside, far away from your own circle of degenerates and wastrels, devoting yourself to scholarly pursuits and absolutely proscribing the company of women . . .”
    “Wait. Stop. Do you mean to say,” Lord Roland responded, in incredulous tones, “you intend for us to embark on a year of . . . of . . .” He struggled.
    “
Chastity?
” the duke supplied, as he might say
disemboweling
.
    “Why not? There are solutions to hand, so to speak, should one’s urges become uncomfortable. Though I suspect, in the manner of monks, we shall soon be grateful for the serenity and find our own physical needs diminish in response.”
    “You’re mad,” said the duke.
    “I pose it as a challenge,” Finn said. “If I can contemplate it, surely you can. You’re a man of considerable self-control, Wallingford, when you choose to exercise it. And as for you, Penhallow, I can remember distinctly a time when you adopted a far more virtuous approach to living . . .”
    “That was long ago,” Lord Roland said sharply, “and best forgotten.”
    “All the same, you were capable then of restraint.” Finn paused and looked back and forth between the two men, heads hanging toward their plates, forks picking away at the remains of the noble breakfast. “Think, my friends. Think what we can accomplish in a year, if we forgo idle pleasure. A temporary exile, no more. A few months. Study a new subject, learn a new talent. Sunshine and olives and whatnot. The local wine, perhaps; I’m sure we can make allowance for a glass or two, as we establish the rules of our little society.”
    Wallingford looked up. “Absolutely
not
. The most absurd scheme I’ve ever heard.”
    “You’re mad even to suggest it,” said Lord Roland.
    Finn shifted his gaze to the window. The heavy January sky had begun to shed bits of snow into the yellow air, though it wasn’t quite cold enough to stick. London in winter: how he hated it, all brown and tired and slushy, the atmosphere so thick with coal smoke it seemed to burn the lining from his lungs. “The land of unending sunshine,” he said, in a low voice, and turned back to Wallingford. “At least think on it.”
    “Out of the question,” said Wallingford.
    “Quite impossible,” agreed Lord Roland.
    Finn picked up the paper and folded it with care, flattening the creases just so. “A year away from the miseries of London. A year free of vice and obligation, devoted to study, devoid of the distractions of the fairer sex.” He rose, tucked the paper under his arm, and smiled broadly.
    “What could possibly go wrong?”

ONE
    Thirty miles southeast of Florence
    March 1890
    S he had always maintained high standards. While other young ladies dreamed of finding Mr. Right, Alexandra set her sights on the Duke of Right.
    In the end, she had accepted a marquis, but as Lord Morley had been both extremely rich and extremely old,