Chapter 34
That evening, Henry found himself back at his parents’ town house, this time dressed in his evening kit. His head wound had closed sufficiently that he was able to leave off the bandage. The stitches were visible, but they were less conspicuous.
The house was in a flurry with the final preparations for his mother’s rout. Henry saw that someone had thought to place candles inside the white alabaster sarcophagus in the foyer. The glowing translucent stone was the only source of light in the entryway, and the effect was eerily sublime.
His mother entered the foyer, giving final instructions to the butler. Henry bent to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Whose idea was that?” Henry asked, gesturing to the sarcophagus.
“Lady Caroline’s,” his mother replied. “Speaking of whom.”
Henry
