No part at all.
‘I’m not surprised,’ Ethel said disdainfully, once Leona ran out of words. ‘That husband of yours was all charm on the surface but a miserable so-and-so when he didn’t get his way. I cannot abide grown men who sulk, and George Marlowe was much given to sulking. His not taking his wedding vows seriously is to be expected, just to spite you because you didn’t give him a son. That might not have been your fault, we both know that. But you’re well shot of him, and now you are free to start again.’
Leona shook her head, causing Ethel to drop the pin she had been about to fix into her coiffure. ‘If you think I intend to marry for a second time then you really don’t understand me at all.’
‘Not all men are as bad as yours was, lamb.’ Ethel grinned. ‘Mr Conroy is a very different proposition.’
‘Unless I miss my guess, Mr Conroy has been crossed in love and has taken the decision never to marry. As for me, I appear to have the best of both worlds—or I will if Mr Sheridan can manage to remove the Yarises from my property and my life. Then I shall have my widowed status to lend me freedom of choice and plenty of money to do with as I please. Why would I want to pass up that freedom, to say nothing of access to my fortune, to a man who might very well fritter it away?’
‘You’ll be lonely.’
Leona grinned over her shoulder at her maid. ‘I might take a lover.’
‘No you won’t.’ Ethel vigorously shook her head. ‘You’re not the type.’
‘I could surprise you yet.’ She flashed a whimsical smile. ‘The point I am trying to get across to you is that I could do it if I felt so inclined, and no one would turn a hair. It’s a liberating thought.’
Leona dwelt upon that conversation now as she sat in the drawing room after dinner with the rest of the ladies. Mrs Brooke had disappeared and her daughter sat alone, brooding it seemed, which Leona thought showed a distinct lack of manners. Amelia was a guest in this house and had a duty to contribute to the conversation, but she responded with minimum civility when Frankie addressed the occasional comment to her.
‘Ah, I hear the gentlemen,’ Frankie said, smiling at the prospect of being reunited with her very compelling duke.
Leona noticed that Mrs Brooke was still absent and that Lord Amos did not return to the drawing room with the rest of the gentlemen. The duke and Lord Vince spoke in a quiet aside, looking concerned. It was a good fifteen minutes before Lord Amos returned and joined his brothers, their conversation couched beneath Frankie’s melodic piano music.
The evening came to an end to the mutual relief of everyone in the room, Leona sensed. The tension had been palpable. Leona wished Frankie goodnight and turned towards the stairs, but was stopped from ascending them by Doran.
‘The duke wants to see us both,’ he said in an undertone.
‘Oh. Why?’
‘I have no idea.’ He offered her his arm. ‘Shall we find out together?’
She shrugged and they entered the duke’s library together to find him already there with his two brothers. Leona took a seat and listened in rapt fascination as Lord Amos explained the nature of his conversation with Mrs Brooke.
‘You think she was telling you the truth, Lord Amos?’ she asked, sharing a bemused glance with the rest of the gentlemen, unable to make any sense of it.
‘I am sure of it,’ Lord Amos replied. ‘She needs my help, but did not orchestrate this visit herself. That was Devonshire’s doing.’
‘It sounds as though he has disappointed her by frittering away his inheritance and not paying his wife enough attention,’ Lord Vince said, rubbing his chin in thoughtful contemplation. ‘Perhaps she said those things about him out of spite.’
Leona was conscious of Doran’s pointed look and knew that she needed to speak up. ‘No, I rather think not,’ she said, clearing her throat and feeling acutely embarrassed to have the gazes of all three Sheridan males focused upon her. ‘Mr Devonshire is most definitely a womaniser. I know because he tried to impose himself upon me this afternoon.’
‘The devil he did!’ the duke growled. ‘The nerve of the man!’
‘He received a sharp put down from me and a nasty scratch from Pagan,’ Leona hastened to assure him, hoping he didn’t think she had given Devonshire any encouragement.
The duke’s anger gave way to a guarded smile. ‘That feline has his uses. Even so, I am sorry that he insulted you, Lady Marlowe.’
She waved his apology aside. ‘I am telling you this because Devonshire was adamant that I required his protection. I thought he was implying…well, you know…but I wonder now if I got it wrong.’ She paused to consider all the possibilities. ‘Devonshire going to so much trouble to contrive a visit here makes me wonder if he somehow got word of my being a guest. We know it was Yaris’s man who accosted me in Shawford. Yaris had him follow me when I left London without explanation. He’s aware that I still have connections to George’s old masters in the diplomatic service and would want to know what I was up to. Anyway, his man would have told him where I was and he, in turn, presumably got word to Devonshire, if they are partners. It seems likely that they are, given that Mrs Brooke mentioned a man in the legal profession, and it would explain why Devonshire insisted upon setting out for London when he knew a storm was predicted.’
‘It’s possible, if rather tenuous,’ the duke said.
‘I would agree with you, but for the fact that I have been struggling to recall where I have heard Devonshire’s name before. As soon as I thought about him and Yaris together, I remembered straight away.’ She glanced first at the duke, then Doran. ‘I heard Yaris discussing a man of that name with his mother.’
The gentlemen looked uncompromisingly grim, the tense silence interrupted only by one of the duke’s dogs barking in its sleep in front of the fire.
‘It makes a convoluted sort of sense, I suppose,’ the duke said, ‘given that we are aware of Devonshire’s dire situation and his lack of morals. He and Yaris sound equally amoral, come to that. But I still don’t see what Devonshire hoped to achieve by following you here, Lady Marlowe.’
‘I wondered about that too,’ she replied. ‘Perhaps his intention was to intimidate me and demonstrate that I wouldn’t be safe anywhere, not even in a duke’s house.’
‘Maybe that was his original plan, but Devonshire took one look at you and decided that he would prefer to deal with you himself.’ Doran ground his jaw. ‘He’d sell out his partner in crime and expect your undying gratitude, damn his impudence!’
‘But Lady Marlowe rejected his advances,’ Lord Amos said, ‘very properly but not very graciously. His pride is hurt, and he will now be doubly determined to make you pay the price. He will be back in London tomorrow and—’
‘Unless, given that you have mended bridges with Mrs Brooke, Amos, you invite her to stay for another day or so while you look more closely into her circumstances,’ the duke said. ‘If you intend to support her financially, that would seem reasonable and it would have the added advantage of giving Clarence more time to make his enquiries. It will also prevent Devonshire from spreading mischief. Can you bear to do that?’
Lord Amos winced but replied in the affirmative. ‘Anything to oblige,’ he said, turning to the decanter and pouring himself a whisky. He waved it at the other gentlemen and they all nodded.
‘Best get word to the Crown,’ Lord Vince suggested, ‘and have them say that his carriage isn’t yet mended, just in case he insists upon pressing on to London.’
‘Good plan. I shall have Adler do precisely that,’ the duke replied.
‘I would dearly love to know why Yaris needs a partner in order to pull off this deception,’ Leona said. ‘He is the legal expert and I can’t see what advantages Devonshire would bring to the arrangement, other than reducing Yaris’s share of the spoils.’
‘We shall ask him, just to satisfy your curiosity, once we get to the bottom of things,’ Doran said, draining his glass in one swallow. ‘Come, Lady Marlowe, you look done in. I will escort you
up.’
She wanted to point out that she was perfectly capable of climbing the stairs alone. But she got the impression that there was something he wanted to say to her in private, so she nodded her agreement.
‘Thank you.’ She smiled at the duke and his brothers. ‘Good night, gentlemen.’
‘It’s been a day of surprises,’ Doran said softly as they ascended the stairs together and paused in the picture gallery when they reached it. ‘I hope you are not too overset by Devonshire’s behaviour.’
‘I am stronger than I look. It will take more than the machinations of two unprincipled scoundrels to disturb my repose.’ But thoughts of you might very well manage it.
‘I didn’t want to make the point in front of the duke, but you need to be on your guard. Devonshire is desperate, but now you have injured his pride. I dare say he thought he was being noble by offering to take up your cause, but you spurned him. Now he will be here for a little longer and might try something more drastic.’
She shuddered. ‘If you mean that he might attempt to bump me off so that there will be no further question about the rightful ownership of George’s property, then the same thought had occurred to me.’
‘Then why didn’t you speak up in front of the duke?’ He shook his head. ‘You are putting yourself at risk by agreeing to his remaining here a little longer.’
‘That is for me to decide,’ she replied, reminded of why she had no pressing need of a man to make her decisions for her, always assuming that he knew best. She had a brain every bit as agile as his, and was not afraid to use it.
‘You have failed to take into account the repercussions for the duke if someone attacks one of his guests on his estate.’ Doran frowned at her as though she had somehow displeased him. It worried her that the loss of his good opinion…well, worried her. ‘He could not allow such a situation to pass uncontested.’
‘Ah, so I have.’ She threw back her head and resisted the urge to borrow a word from her late husband’s vocabulary. ‘Perdition!’ she added lamely, taking a moment to consider matters from the duke’s perspective. ‘Even so, I cannot persuade myself that the same possibility has not occurred to his grace. Presumably I will not be left alone all day tomorrow. Anyway, I don’t actually think that Devonshire would be stupid or desperate enough to try anything here. An accident on the road, on the other hand, might easily be contrived, so he would be better advised to curb his impatience.’
‘I think you underestimate the dire nature of his situation. Yaris has promised him a share of the spoils if he succeeds in stealing your inheritance. We don’t yet know why, but I think we can agree that both men are anxious to achieve that ambition by whatever means necessary. If Yaris told Devonshire to orchestrate this meeting here, then it only serves to demonstrate my point. The Duke of Winchester enjoys a reputation as a formidable and authoritative man. No one would risk crossing him unless they were truly desperate.’
‘If you are seeking to frighten me, you are succeeding,’ Leona said, hugging her arms around her waist and shuddering.
‘No, my sweet, I simply need you to grasp the gravity of the situation. This is not a game.’
Leona bridled at the implication. ‘I am well aware of that. It is not you who has had to put up with another woman taking over your household,’ she said, tossing her head.
‘I have made you angry, yet I cannot bring myself to apologise. Your anger will make you wary. And you must promise me that you will never be alone tomorrow. In fact, if the weather clears as is widely predicted, then I invite you to ride with me.’
‘So that Devonshire can bump us both off and steal your timber before your estate is settled,’ she replied whimsically.
Doran chuckled. ‘He’s very welcome to try.’
‘That sort of arrogance will get you killed,’ Leona said impatiently. ‘But yes, I will ride with you tomorrow,’ she added, wondering how he knew that was one of her favourite occupations. ‘We shall have to take care, but not only because we are inconveniencing Devonshire. The conditions underfoot will be icy, and if I take a fall I might well break my neck and do his work for him.’
‘Such a pretty neck,’ Doran said, his gaze soft and intense in the dimness of the gallery. ‘That would be a terrible shame.’
‘Are you flirting with me?’
‘Absolutely.’ His smile was wide and infectious. ‘Is it so long since anyone flirted with you that you have forgotten how to read the signs? You compel me and I am filled with an irrational desire to keep you safe.’
‘How very inconvenient for you.’
‘You have absolutely no idea.’
Leona wondered how the distance between had suddenly vanished as a strong arm slipped around her waist and she found herself held against his chest, her head just reaching his shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him and detected the raw passion in his gaze. She felt the extent of his arousal pressing against her and the muscles in his torso flexing and contracting as he tightened his hold on her.
This was insanity. They were standing in the duke’s gallery, where anyone might come upon them at any moment. Leona might have been freed from the shackles of an unsatisfactory marriage, but she wasn’t ready to abandon all her standards quite yet. Especially not with this engaging roué. If he kissed her, as she sensed he intended to, then she would never find the strength to pull away, despite knowing that she must. A dalliance would be one thing, but she instinctively knew that a casual affair with Doran Conroy would never be enough for her. Better to avoid any and all involvement rather than become aware of what she’d be missing.
‘Good night,’ she said softly with a glance of regret as she pulled out of his arms and slipped away in the direction of her room.
He didn’t try to prevent her, but she sensed him standing there, watching her until she disappeared from his view. She felt flustered when she reached her chamber, idly wondering if any woman before her had rejected his advances.
She smiled to herself, suspecting that none had.
Chapter Twelve
Doran returned to his own room, calling himself all sorts of names for letting passion override common sense. He had spent a fair amount of time resisting the charms of various attractive women over the years, and was at a loss to know what had come over him on this particular occasion. Sighing, he was obliged to conclude there was something about Leona that had made him break his own fiercely-held rules.
‘What’s wrong?’ Tyler asked, having taken one look at Doran’s set expression. ‘Did someone die?’
He had no intention of telling his man that he had…had what, exactly? He was making too much of this thing. He’d almost kissed Leona, but it was hardly a hanging offence. Doran put the memory of Leona’s curvaceous body pressed against his to the back of his mind and explained about Mrs Brooke’s surprisingly self-effacing admissions. Tyler sniffed as he listened, less than impressed by her apparent show of contrition.
‘I heard tell from the girl who’s been waiting on her and her daughter that the two of them are constantly at loggerheads. The daughter is a right spoiled little madam, and spiteful with it. She blames her mother for Devonshire neglecting her. Lord above knows why. She thought she was marrying into the top drawer but it didn’t work out that way. Devonshire can’t afford to keep her in style, so the hussy is now stuck with the option of remaining with a man who’s about to lose everything or lose face herself by running back to her mother.’ Tyler sniffed his disapproval. ‘I doubt she’ll be happy to live the quiet life in return for Lord Amos keeping them from the poor house. That little madam will get herself into all sorts of mischief, you just mark my words. But still, that’s not our problem.’
‘Thankfully not, but keeping Lady Marlowe out of harm’s way if Devonshire stays for another day most decidedly is.’
Tyler flexed a brow. ‘Her safety is the duke’s concern, surely, unless…’ Tyler paused and sent Doran a speculative look. ‘The chit’s got beneath your def
ences, ain’t she?’ He threw back his head and laughed. ‘About time you put the past behind you and returned to the land of the living, if you ask me.’
‘No one did.’ Doran threw off his coat and perched on the edge of his bed in order to remove his footwear. ‘Anyway, instead of reading more into the situation than actually exists, you can make yourself useful tomorrow by keeping a weather eye on Devonshire. If he ventures from the house, I need you to follow him without being seen. Think you can manage that simple assignment?’
Tyler beetled his brows. ‘I should imagine so. You, I suppose, will provide the same service for Lady Marlowe.’
‘Seems like the right thing to do, given that we both have pressing reasons to stop Devonshire and Yaris in their conniving tracks.’
‘Ah, that would be your reason,’ Tyler said, grinning. ‘But still and all, I can’t fault your taste. Lady Marlowe is well respected below stairs. Servants are pretty astute judges of character, and they seldom get these things wrong. Since they all approve of her, you have my permission to like her as much as you want. Not all females are manipulative and inconstant, you know.’
‘Thank you for your worldly advice,’ Doran replied, rolling his eyes as he pulled his shirt over his head and attended to his ablutions.
‘Entirely my pleasure,’ Tyler said cheerfully.
Doran dismissed Tyler but was unable to sleep. He pulled the heavy drapes aside and sat in the window seat, staring out at the inky blackness as he listened to the wind whistling around the chimneys, wishing he knew how Yaris and Devonshire were connected. That, he sensed, was the key to the entire business, but there was little prospect of his making that discovery himself, not while he was confined to Winchester Park.
The fire burned down and the temperature in the room gradually dropped, forcing Doran to return to his bed, where he tossed and turned, his mind still too active to allow for sleep. He rose again with the dawn, sensing that something vital would happen that day. Without ringing for Tyler, he washed in the previous night’s cold water, which served to fully wake him. He dressed quickly and was the first in the breakfast room, beating even the duke.
On the Duke's Authority (Ducal Encounters series 4 Book 3) Page 16