It Takes a Scandal Read Online Free

source of gossip.”
    “Being able to hold my tongue is a useful skill. You might try it some time.”
    Penelope huffed. “Where would be the pleasure in that?” She faced Abigail. “There is one absolute failing of this house, and I’m sure you know what it is.”
    “Ah . . .” Abigail darted a look at her brother, who shrugged.
    “You know,” repeated Penelope meaningfully. “We’re all the way out here in Richmond, away from the shops of London.”
    “There are shops here as well, you know,” said her brother.
    “Not the right shops,” she replied without looking at him. She seemed to be trying to bore a hole in Abigail with her bright blue gaze. “How shall we ever get the right lotion, and rouge, and hair pomade? We’ll look like Druids camping out on the moors.”
    “Buy plenty in London and bring it with you,” suggested James. “A little planning will solve nearly every problem.”
    Penelope gritted her teeth, still staring fiercely at Abigail. “But we may run out. And what if I put on weight, with so many fewer balls to attend? I shall need a new corset—perhaps one of those with the extra gussets under the bosoms, you know, the sort that hold each side separately—”
    “I regret underestimating your suffering,” said James hastily. “You’d best ask Mama’s advice.” He was already edging away, and disappeared into the house in a minute.
    “Poor Jamie,” said Abigail in amusement. “How will he ever marry, when the mere mention of a corset makes him turn green?”
    “How will he ever marry, when the only things he talks about are horses and money?” Penelope flicked one hand, dismissing their brother. “You know what I meant, don’t you?”
    “I believe so.” Abigail turned and strolled a little farther from the house. Who knew when her parents might come out to see the view? Her mother seemed possessed of supernatural hearing at times, and unlike her sister, Abigail had the common sense not to test it.
    Penelope followed her. “How are we to get new issues of 50 Ways to Sin all the way out here? It took weeks to discover the bookseller in Madox Street. For all we know, no one will be selling it in Richmond.”
    “Perhaps we ought not to look for it at all.” Abigail gave her a stern look. “You’re still in Mama’s black books over that, you know. Querying every broadsheet seller in Richmond will make it worse.”
    Fifty Ways to Sin was the most notorious pamphlet in all of London. Each issue recounted one of the author’s amorous encounters with prominent gentlemen, in lush and explicit detail. The author, calling herself Lady Constance, concealed her lovers’ names, but wrote of them in such terms that made everyone desperate to unmask the gentlemen involved. The true identities of the men, to say nothing of Lady Constance herself, were hotly debated by most of London, and the pamphlets were highly coveted. The erotic nature of the stories meant they had to be sold rather discreetly; one had to know which booksellers to ask, and since the pamphlets were published irregularly, one had to ask at the right moment, or they would be all sold out. No one was a more avid fan than Penelope, although Abigail was nearly as engrossed.
    Together with their friend Joan—now the Viscountess Burke—they had analyzed every issue in great detail. Fifty Ways to Sin had provided a remarkable education on topics normally forbidden to young ladies. The lure of that forbidden fruit had been Penelope’s downfall, though. In her eagerness to read one issue, she’d been caught by their mother, and was now under strict watch. So far Abigail had escaped that scrutiny, and she meant to keep it that way.
    Her sister’s face wrinkled up in frustration. “I know! Oh, blast and damn. Why did you have to give all our copies to Joan?” When their friend had recently married, with a whiff of hushed-up scandal, the Weston sisters had agreed she needed them more, and they gave her all the