The morning sunlight filtering through my study window cast long shadows across the newspaper spread on my desk. I traced my finger over the headline with satisfaction: "Lady of Society Revealed to Have Sordid Past in Red-Light District."
I allowed myself a small smile. The article didn't explicitly name Lady Beatrix Beaumont, referring to her only as "a certain widowed baroness with a stepdaughter recently married into one of the kingdom's most prestigious families." But anyone with half a brain in high society would connect the dots immediately.
"Your Grace, I've brought your morning coffee," Alistair said, entering the study with a silver tray.
"Perfect timing as always, Alistair," I replied, gesturing to the newspaper. "Our little project has made the morning edition."
Alistair set down the tray and peered at the newspaper. "Most effective, Your Grace. The innuendo is clear without being legally actionable."
