Lucy stood on the mansion's terrace, watching the last guests depart. The fundraiser had ended in scandal: William's dramatic reveal, Victoria's appearance, Isabel's collapse. The society pages would be vicious by morning.
"You'll catch a cold."
She turned to find William wheeling toward her with a wrap. He'd returned to the wheelchair after Victoria left, maintaining the illusion.
"I needed air," Lucy said as he handed it to her. "That was overwhelming."
"The hospital called. Isabel's stable." William positioned himself beside her. "She'd ingested a significant amount of sedative. Another hour and she'd be dead."
"Mirabel didn't seem surprised," Lucy said quietly. "She was upset with the crowd, but underneath—no shock."
"You think she poisoned her own daughter?"
"I think Mirabel is
