Evidently sensing that Isabel was about to suffer an apoplexy, Barbara rushed around the butler and helped her back—again—into her blasted chair. “I was walking in the park with my sister Julia, and everyone was talking about it.” Phillip moved out from his chair and gestured for Barbara to take his place. “Please tell us what you know.” With a nod, Barbara seated herself. “The first thing we heard was that Lord and Lady McGowan’s estate in York had been burgled. But then someone told us it was their home on Curzon Street.” “Prentiss House,” Phillip supplied. “Yes.” Isabel clutched her friend’s hand. Her very good friend, she was fast realizing. At any other time she would have been happy to see Phillip’s growing esteem for Barbara. Today, though, her friend had brought a candle into a very dark cave, and she couldn’t think of anything else. “Is it just rumors?” she asked, hoping fervently that it wasn’t. For heaven’s sake, what a change a few weeks had made.
