She was wearing some sort of red-and-white-patterned frock that should have jarred with her ginger hair but didn’t. On her head was a wide-brimmed hat tilted rakishly down in front and up in back where her hair was massed. Red ribbons on the crown of the hat fluttered in the breeze. She looked dainty and aristocratic, like she was out for a picnic in the country.

“I’ve had Cook pack a luncheon,” she called as he neared, confirming his worst fears.

Harry stopped himself in time from casting his eyes heavenward. God help me. “Good morning, my lady.”

It was another dreary, gray day. No doubt they would be rained on before the morning was out.

“Would you like to drive?” She scooted across the seat to make room for him.

“If you don’t mind, my lady.” He climbed in, making the gig rock on its oversized wheels.

“Oh, no, I don’t mind at all.” He could feel her gaze as he gathered the reins. “I can drive, naturally; it’s how I arrived here this morning, after all. But I find it’s much nicer to watch the scenery without worrying about the horses and the road and all that.”

“Indeed.”

Lady Georgina sat forward, her cheeks flushed with the wind. Her lips were slightly parted like a child looking forward to a treat. He felt a smile form on his own lips.

“Where will we be going today?” she asked.

He brought his eyes back to the road. “I want to visit another of the farmers whose sheep were killed. I need to find out what exactly killed the animals.”

“Wasn’t it a poisonous weed?”

“Yes,” he replied. “But no one I’ve talked to seems to know what kind, and it could be several. Wolfsbane is poisonous, though rare in these parts. Some folk grow belladonna and foxglove in their gardens—both can kill sheep and people as well. And there are common plants, such as tansy, that grow wild in pastures and will kill sheep if they eat enough.”

“I had no idea there are so many poisons growing in the countryside. It quite makes one shiver. What did the Medicis use?”

“The Medicis?”

Lady Georgina wriggled her little rump on the carriage seat. “You know, those deliciously horrible Italians with the poison rings that went about killing anyone who looked at them askance. What d’you suppose they used?”

“I don’t know, my lady.” The way her mind worked.

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “What about arsenic? That’s very poisonous, isn’t it?”

“It’s poisonous, but arsenic isn’t a plant.”

“No? Then what is it?”

He had no idea. “A sort of seashell that is ground into a powder, my lady.”

There was a short pause while she thought that one over.

Harry held his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her squint at him. “You’re making that up.”

“My lady?”