“Please,” her hostess invited. “Sit down. May I offer you some form of refreshment? Tea, perhaps? Or something a bit stronger?”

“No, thank you,” Georgia said as she seated herself in a powered armchair that was almost appallingly comfortable. “While I was delighted when you asked me to stop by this afternoon, My Lady, I was also very surprised. And I’m afraid that my schedule was already pretty fully booked before this unanticipated pleasure presented itself. I can only stay a short time, because the Earl and I are due to join the Prime Minister for a fund-raising dinner tonight.” She smiled. “And while I appreciate your having thought to ask me to drop by, I’m sure you’ll forgive me if I’m blunt enough to say that I rather doubted it was for a social occasion.”

“Of course I’ll forgive you.” Her hostess chuckled. “In fact, I’m sure you’ve heard that I tend to be on the blunt side myself. I’m afraid my own social graces are less than polished, which always caused my parents quite a bit of distress. Still, I suppose I should point out that, socially speaking, of course, you really don’t have to address me as ‘My Lady’ any longer, My Lady. I’m afraid I’m just plain Cathy Montaigne these days.”

“And before my marriage to Stefan,” Georgia responded with another gracious smile, “I was ‘just plain’ Georgia Sakristos, so perhaps we could simply dispense with any ‘My Ladies’ from either side?”

“That would be perfectly fine—and so diplomatic!” Montaigne chuckled again, in high good humor, and Georgia wondered what she felt so cheerful about. She also wondered whether or not Montaigne’s obvious good cheer was a good sign or a bad one. According to the ex-countess’ dossier, she was at her most dangerous when she smiled.

“While I’m being diplomatic,” Georgia said, “allow me to congratulate you both on your election to the House of Commons and on the power base you seem to be building there. I trust you’ll forgive me if I don’t repeat those congratulations in public, since Stefan and the Prime Minister would never speak to me again if they caught me exchanging pleasantries with the enemy. And, of course, Countess New Kiev would probably do something far worse than that.”

“I’m sure she would,” Montaigne said with a blinding smile. “Indeed, I spend the occasional evening contemplating the degree of irritation I must be causing both of them. Well, all three, I suppose, counting your husband. Of course, I have to wonder if anyone does count him. Including yourself.”

“I beg your pardon?” Georgia stiffened, coming upright as abruptly as the luxuriously enfolding chair allowed. Her voice projected both surprise and an edge of anger, but there was another emotion behind those she’d deliberately allowed herself to show. A sudden, abrupt tingle of anxiety. A suspicion that perhaps Montaigne’s cheerfulness might turn out to have been a very bad sign indeed.

“Oh, I am sorry!” Montaigne said, with every appearance of sincerity. “I did say my social graces leave something to be desired, didn’t I? I certainly didn’t mean to denigrate your husband. I simply meant that it’s fairly well known in political circles that the Earl depends heavily on your… advice, shall we say? I wouldn’t want to be tacky enough to go about using phrases like ‘the power behind the throne’ or anything equally cliché-ish, but surely you know that no one in Landing doubts that Earl North Hollow follows your guidance very closely.”