The musings of Ottilia Fanshawe, fresh from The Deathly Portent, second title in the Lady Fan Mystery Series by Elizabeth Bailey
I must suppose you are now aware of my penchant for “poking my nose” (as it was put by a certain creature for whom I could cherish no liking) into matters that are not strictly my concern. My poor darling Fan objects mightily, and I freely admit to taking advantage of his excessive indulgence towards me, but what is one to do?
While I admit I entered upon the event purely out of a spirit of curiosity, once in Witherley I was fairly caught. How could I leave the place, having found out so much? The dangers were visible from the start. And Francis, I am thankful to say, is apt to soften when he realises a matter of honour is in question.
No, I cannot castigate myself for remaining with the adventure once I had plunged in. But should I have plunged? Just so, you may say. Yet if I had not given in to that insatiable little demon of mine, what horrors might not have ensued? Bad enough as it was, but I flatter myself I was able to prevent a hideous miscarriage of justice and return the villagers to an echo of normality at least.
The worst of it is that I cannot promise not to give in again. Indeed, I don’t wish to, if you will have the truth. Dear me, I am near to confessing the worst!
Shall I say? Fan will complain that I blurt my words without thinking. He knows me too well. And he is perfectly aware that it is not curiosity that is my besetting sin, but rather the secret entertainment I derive from unravelling the mystery. There, it is said. A shocking fault, do you not think? Pray do not tell anyone or I shall find myself barred from the doors of all my friends and relations!
If you are not ready to cut me by this time, you may enquire further into my unorthodox activities at www.elizabethbailey.co.uk