Chapter 12 – The Clown and the Poisonous Mushroom, Part 2

“Miss Diana, this way, please.”

The voice belonged to Lady Crawford, her features as cold and still as carved ice—but her eyes glowed with genuine pleasure at the sight of Diana.

“Good afternoon, Madam. Your dress is stunning—it suits you beautifully.”

“Thank you. Has it really only been half a moon since I last saw you? I wondered how you were… and now here you are.”

“I’m well. How have you been, Madam?”

“A bit busy. I heard you visited the duke’s house—but I was away and missed your arrival.”

As Lady Crawford spoke, the other salon guests’ eyes lit up—they had been watching Diana since her entrance, no longer even glancing away.

Blatant interest…

Those prompt enough exchanged glances, whispering: “Is that rumor true?”

“Did you enjoy your host’s hospitality?” Lady Crawford asked.

“Yes. He was very gracious.”

“Hmm.”

Lady Crawford echoed with a soft hum—skeptical—but Diana just smiled politely.

“It’s surprising… him inviting someone to his estate, and to you of all people.”

“Truly an honor. I never would’ve imagined an invitation to Crawford House in my life.”

“Come again soon. Give me a visit next time too.”

“I’d love that.”

As vaccination staff circulated trays of tea, the Earl of Lancaster’s lady arrived, applauding lightly:

“Ladies, shall we begin with tea?”

The Salon: A Gentle Arena of Gossip

Salon hosts are generally responsible for entertaining their guests—musicians, art critiques, debates, performances. But many guests attend just for the loose socializing.

You can focus on events, or lose yourself in reading—withstanding only polite whispers and sporadic commentary.

“With your grace and heritage, there’s no grander match than the Duke of Crawford, wouldn’t you say?”

Yet today, that supposed edge had evaporated—five ladies approached with trivial comments, all marveling at the rumors:

“So you actually met the Duke alone?”

Diana strained her smile until it twitched.

“Is that the case? Sometimes rivals just keep tabs—wanting confirmation.”

She felt conversation like a spotlight.
The Lady Grey, seated nearby, overheard and joined in.

“Oh, the casino business troubled him?”

“Casino, you say?” The ladies looked puzzled—one exception stuck out.

“Well, His Majesty had opened one recently. But I believe it closed soon after.”

Lady Grey—well informed—laughed.

“I was invited opening day. Honestly, awful décor—chandeliers, Orman canopies, and wool carpets. A mismatched nightmare.”

A chandelier-lit French hotel with Persian parasols and tatami mats? Terrifying.

Sometimes, even the interiors are sufficient to topple the business.

If His Majesty wanted to appeal to exiled nobles—fine. But at least do it right.

Lady Grey shook her head in embarrassed fury.

“I’d close that place and build a school instead.”

A sensible suggestion—but Diana knew hidden depths in Ian’s motives. Still, it was the most useful nugget she’d learned that day.

Maybe I should visit the casino tomorrow…

She sipped her tea, when sudden voices interrupted:

“Oh—I thought you two shared something scandalous?”

It was Ellen and Ceyra Rumill, sisters from the garden party.

“I didn’t expect you to be interested in my story.”

Ceyra scoffed.

“We were curious whether the Duke’s sudden meeting with you meant scandalous affairs.”

“Rumor?”

“Yes. But now it seems merely trivial.”

“Stop that, sister.”

“What? It wasn’t like you two were engaged, was it craftier than that?”

Ellen shrugged calmly.

“Still… good that nothing juicy’s here. Engagements need the right match—and one of you seems too beneath him.”

Only then did Diana realize why the Rumill sisters had been so boldly dismissive before.