“Yes. Lord Galland has likely taken you everywhere women tend to enjoy, so is there somewhere you’d like to go?”

“As you can see, I haven’t quite emerged from my grief, so would it be all right to ask you to take me somewhere you go when you want to clear your head?”

“Understood. Then the morning of the day after tomorrow, I’ll have a carriage prepared.”

“I’d prefer one that doesn’t draw too much attention.”

“I’ll keep that very much in mind.”

His smile and gracious bow were the picture of a gentleman.

Cheering and the thunder of hooves. Women in elaborate hats exchanging light conversation. And beside them, men sitting with polished composure who curled their hands into fists like boys the moment the horse they were backing came into view.

The Royal Crimson Racecourse, one of the nobility’s favored social venues.

“This is not at all what I expected. Though when you mentioned paying attention to my hat the day before, I did wonder.”

“I hope it’s not too conspicuous a place to be uncomfortable.”

Angela wore a hat suited to mourning clothes. Ashley had also dressed in a black suit and hat, so at a glance it almost looked less like Angela was in mourning and more like the two of them had simply coordinated their outfits.

‘If he saw me wearing mourning clothes when I went out with Lord Galland and matched his outfit accordingly, then the rumors about his good sense are well-founded.’

“If I were worried about drawing attention, I would not have invited the three of you to the residence in the first place.”

Inviting three suitors through Phillip had surely already set tongues wagging in social circles.

Her outing through the capital with Isaac had no doubt made the rounds among the nobility more than twice over by now.

‘If I let that sort of thing bother me, I never would have started any of this.’

She could feel eyes sliding toward her, taking in the sight of her in mourning clothes seated beside Ashley, but Angela did not flinch.

She had been accustomed to being watched since childhood.

Born into a distinguished family with exceptional beauty, Angela had always been exposed to every kind of gaze.

“Countess Maister is always so composed.”

“It is a virtue I was taught from a young age.”

“The disciplined and admirable methods of House Walther are well known.”

Conversation kept at a proper distance.

The complete opposite of Isaac’s relentless, headlong approach.

Whether the compliment was genuine or merely polite did not matter.

This was not a meeting to build personal closeness. It was nothing more than a search for a killer.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to enjoy a place like this. You seemed like someone who would prefer quieter surroundings. A study or a library, perhaps.”

“I first came here for the sake of socializing. As you know, there are conversations and connections that can only be had by attending in person.”

“That’s true.”

Nobles learned from childhood the importance of social navigation and connections.

Even those with unassailable power held their position because of the people beneath them, and it was through those people that one could reign or be respected.

“I came for that reason at first, but watching the horses run without thinking about anything in particular, I found the tension in me ease. Since then, I come occasionally when I want to clear my head.”

Ashley did look more at ease than at any other time she had seen him.

Against the blue sky, his black suit made the gold of his hair and the blue of his eyes stand out in vivid contrast.

Courteous manner. Appropriate consideration. A good family.

And a clean-cut, handsome face on top of it all.

A man any woman would want as a husband. So why had he proposed to a widow barely out of mourning.

Could it truly have nothing to do with Joel’s death.

“Is that so.”

“I hope you might do the same, my lady.”

Ashley let a warm smile slip through.

“To rest for a little while without weighing and judging everything.”

His own way of being considerate, perhaps.

Under ordinary circumstances she might have thought him a good person, but things were different now.

He was, plainly, a suspect in a murder.

How many people in this world wore kind faces while stabbing others in the back.

‘I’m sorry if I’m wrong, but I can’t afford to let my guard down.’

“Thank you.”

Whatever the truth might be, watching the horses run across the green turf and letting the surrounding scenery wash over her did bring a genuine calm to her tangled thoughts.

“The next race will be starting shortly. Would you like to try picking the winner? I can buy you a betting ticket if you’d like.”

Angela shook her head.

“I’d rather just watch. It’s not something I have a taste for.”

“To be honest, neither do I. How nice to have something in common.”

A quiet warmth settled in his calm eyes.

“I was told endlessly as a child that a man ought to have a competitive spirit, but I find it difficult to act on the basis of uncertain chance.”

Lord Ashley Rai Wilton was widely known as someone who walked the middle path. He had no strong likes or dislikes to speak of, and he was skilled at bringing people’s differing opinions together.

A methodical, analytical temperament, by all appearances.

Not the impulsive type. Though among people like that, there were many who found a quiet satisfaction in seeing their own predictions come true.

“Among those who try to pick the winner, there are quite a few who consider themselves analysts.”

“But even the most thorough calculation and analysis is often thrown off by the conditions and variables of the day, wouldn’t you say.”

“So you’re not the type who enjoys taking risks.”

The claim of having no competitive spirit did not seem to be false.

Ashley asked carefully.

“Does that disappoint you in me, my lady?”

“No. I don’t think that’s for me to be disappointed about.”

“Oh dear. I was prepared to run over and buy any ticket at all if that was what you wanted.”

“A fabricated personality always comes out eventually. Please be at ease.”

Angela picked up a small pastry from the table and snapped it in two with her fingers.

“People feel most comfortable when they can show themselves fully.”

She was just about to take a bite of the smaller piece.

“Well, look who it is. Surely not the famous Lord Wilton himself.”

There was a peculiar emphasis on famous.

The classic, petty mode of aristocratic sarcasm.

A man in garish clothes, apparently trying to compensate for an unremarkable face, drew closer. He instinctively let his gaze slide over Angela.

A familiar kind of look.

Men captivated by a woman’s appearance could never quite stop their eyes from wandering.

Angela did not find it unpleasant in itself.

‘But staring that openly suggests poor self-control. And wearing all that lace in a style that doesn’t suit him at all, there may be some need to show off as well.’

“You must be Countess Maister, famed for her beauty. A pleasure to meet you. I am Allan Jackson of House Jackson.”

At the grand and formal introduction, Angela gave a brief, composed nod.

“A pleasure. Lord Jackson. I am Angela Grace Maister of House Maister. I had heard that House Jackson sent a young man abroad to study. It seems he has returned. So you are Lord Allan Jackson.”

Allan’s face brightened at Angela’s words.

“You know of me?”

“I keep track of all families connected to House Walther.”

Apart from her own family, Angela knew most of the families active in social circles.

Information was power. Angela had understood that from a very young age.

House Jackson.

Several generations back, the family had been recognized for distinguished service and elevated from baron to count. They also maintained commercial dealings with House Walther.

Angela knew most of the transactions conducted through House Walther and the nobles involved.

“Beauty beyond the rumors, and sharp-minded as well.”

“You flatter me.”

“No wonder Lord Wilton is so taken with you. Hahaha.”

The boisterous laugh carried an aftertaste of jealousy that was hard to miss.

Even so, as any noble would, Angela chose not to point it out.

“I had already heard that you were courting Countess Maister, but I didn’t expect you to have already secured a seat beside her. Had there been an opportunity to propose, I would certainly have put my name forward as well.”

“Every man has the opportunity to try to win the heart of a beautiful and wise woman, Lord Jackson.”

Ashley redirected his overstepping remark with smooth, gentle ease.

Angela listened to their exchange with an impassive face.