Die I Will Not by S. K. Rizzolo Read Free Book Online

to wed an Irish Protestant peeress in the Anglican Church, but he merely laughed. “You mean, if they really are married. They’ve been a devoted couple for over thirty years, so I don’t suppose it much matters anymore.”
    While Penelope made inconsequent conversation, she felt a growing impatience. She must use this opportunity to discover if Mr. Rex would tell her something of N.D. and Collatinus. Her father’s old friend was the obvious person to ask; he must know a great deal about the letters he himself had published. In fact, it was possible Rex himself had been the one to resurrect Collatinus. He seemed an obvious suspect, but, then again, so was Penelope herself, particularly if someone knew her father had penned the originals. She was a radical’s daughter, after all.
    Dutifully, Jeremy remained at her side, bringing her a glass of champagne and introducing her to a government minister named George Kester and a married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Hewitt. She had heard these names before, for Jeremy had been enthusiastic in his praise of his new acquaintances’ stature in society. Penelope was less impressed. An aging beau in a too-tight coat, Kester was clearly bored with the company. Similarly, Hewitt, a balding, good-humored man, smiled and nodded at acquaintances in the crowd as he listened to his wife’s prattle with only half an ear. For her part, Mrs. Hewitt couldn’t take her eyes off Jeremy.
    â€œWe’ve just heard the most shocking rumor, Mr. Wolfe. Mr. Rex’s son-in-law Dryden Leach slain in his own office. I vow it terrifies me to think of it. Mr. Rex won’t confirm the rumors, but I had it from the Countess—”
    â€œWe don’t yet know the truth of the matter,” said Hewitt.
    George Kester shook his head. “A strange business. If something did happen, it wasn’t reported in this morning’s paper. And what of this masked man?” Leaning toward Hewitt, he lowered his tone. “Is the masked man Collatinus, do you think? These letters have caused concern in some quarters.”
    Ralph Hewitt gave a crack of laughter. “You mean, with half the men in London terrified of finding themselves the subject of a paragraph in the newspaper? You include yourself, I take it?”
    Smiling blandly, Kester steered the conversation into a new channel. Penelope raised her brows at Jeremy, hoping he would encourage further discussion, but he ignored the message. After a while, Penelope tried again. “Are you acquainted with Mr. Leach?” she asked Hewitt.
    â€œWe all are. I believe your father is also an old friend of the family? You are the daughter of Eustace Sandford, Mrs. Wolfe? I met him once. He is quite celebrated in his way, though I don’t claim to have read any of his books.”
    She grew uncomfortable under his ironic assessment. “My father has not returned to his native country in nearly twenty years, sir. Though I visited England with him when I was a small child, I was raised abroad.”
    This drew Kester’s wandering attention. His eye lingered over her face and moved lower. “You must have been a mere babe. I must say you have matured delightfully, ma’am.” He exchanged a smirk with Hewitt that made her suddenly angry.
    â€œShe has indeed,” said Hewitt. “Where have you been hiding her, Wolfe?”
    â€œOh, I’m afraid my wife doesn’t approve of the fashionable scene.”
    Penelope stiffened. “You make me sound a Puritan.” She paused. “Has Mr. Leach been successful in the newspaper business, Mr. Hewitt?”
    â€œThere were lean times at the start, I believe, but he made a name for himself at the Daily Intelligencer . It didn’t hurt to have Rex’s blunt behind him. Mary Leach was well dowered, and that’s how Leach found the capital to become editor-proprietor of a newspaper. Of course, Rex had no notion he was hatching a