The Bachelor List by Jane Feather Read Free Book Online

away.”
    “Good,” Chastity said. “Because we need to draft the advertisement for the Go-Between, and check the final layout for next month's issue. I have to take it to the printer tomorrow morning.”
    “We'll do it before we go to bed.”
    The barouche drew up outside the house on Manchester Square and Jenkins had opened the door before Constance could get out her key. “You must have seen us coming,” she said.
    “I was watching out for you, Miss Con.”
    “Is Lord Duncan in?” Prudence drew off her gloves as she stepped into the hall.
    “No, Miss Prue. He went to his club. He said there was no need to wait up for him.”
    The sisters nodded. It was not unusual for their father to return to the house in the early hours of the morning, and sometimes not until dawn. Where he spent the night was not a question they cared to examine.
    “You had a pleasant evening?” Jenkins closed the heavy front door.
    “Very, thank you,” Prudence replied with a quick grin directed at her sisters. “At least Chas and I did. Not so sure about Con. Good night, Jenkins.”
    “Good night, Miss Prue.” He watched them up the stairs and then extinguished all but one small lamp on a console table before taking himself off to his pantry in the basement.
    The small square sitting room at the front of the house on the second floor had been Lady Duncan's private parlor and was now used exclusively by the sisters. It had a pleasantly faded, lived-in air. The furniture was worn, the colors of the upholstery and curtains bleached by years of sunlight and laundering. But there were bowls of fresh flowers on every surface amid a cheerful clutter of books, magazines, and sewing materials. As usual, a pan of milk stood on the sideboard ready to be heated over a small spirit stove.
    “Ham sandwiches tonight, and Mrs. Hudson has made her luscious macaroons again,” Chastity announced with satisfaction, peering beneath a linen cloth on a tray beside the milk. She struck a match and lit the flame beneath the milk. “While that's heating we'll look at the draft pages. I think I put them on the secretaire.” She rummaged among a stack of papers on the overcrowded desk. “Ah, here they are.”
    Constance tossed her cloak over the back of the chesterfield and perched on one of the broad arms. She took the sheets her sister handed her and glanced through them. “You know what might
be fun . . .”
    “No,” Prudence supplied the required answer.
    “Why don't we write a review of tonight's performance? There were . . . what? Less than a hundred people there. Not a grand crush but everyone who is anyone in these circles was there, and the only newcomer that I could see was Max Ensor. And as Letitia's brother and an MP he's hardly an unknown quantity.” She chuckled. “It'll really set the cat among the pigeons. It will have to have been written by a guest. Can you imagine the speculation about who could possibly have written it?”
    “Great publicity,” Prudence said, turning the heat down under the milk. “The details of a private party are much harder to get hold of than those of a Society wedding or . . . or, say, a grand ball. There are always gate-crashers and newspeople at those do's anyway. But tonight was very different.”
    “People will be desperate to get their hands on a copy,” Chastity said. “We should double the print order, I think. Who's going to write it?”
    “I will,” Constance stated. She had a tiny smile on her lips that hinted of secrets. “I have it roughed out in my head already.”
    “I'm not sure you can be totally accurate when it comes to the arias,” Prudence observed. “You weren't listening.”
    Constance waved a dismissive hand. “I'm only going to touch on that anyway. That's not what's going to interest people. It'll be the intimate details, the kinds of things only an insider could have gathered.”
    Chastity regarded her thoughtfully. “You've got something up your