The Masqueraders by Georgette Heyer

There could be no evading a lively scandal; Sir Humphrey had foreseen it; Robin had a dread of it. By noon next day Society spoke of nothing but the sudden and horrid death of Gregory Markham, and the frustrated elopement of the pretty heiress. The news was all over the town; the Merriots' share in the night's work was known with the rest, for Mr. Markham's coachman naturally told it all to Mr. Markham's valet, who, in his turn, repeated it to Mr. Devereux's man. The ball once started rolled swiftly through London, and at length reached the ears of Sir Anthony Fanshawe. He had it from Mr. Belfort at White's club, and Mr. Belfort was able to give him better information than most, for he had made a point of calling in Arlington Street as soon as he heard the strange story. Mr. Belfort, never having been at all in sympathy with Markham, saw the happenings as a rollicking adventure, and was about to make a ribald comment on Miss Letty's share in it, when he remembered Sir Anthony's close friendship with the Graysons. He coughed, glared at Devereux, standing by, and relapsed into solemn silence.

"Very queer affair," said Devereux, shaking his head. "Oh monstrous, Fanshawe! I did hear that there's some doubt of the masked man being a highwayman. What do you say to a rival, hey? " He looked very knowing, and gave a prim smile. "Oh, quite shocking, my dear Fanshawe."