*
Zach retired feeling deeply troubled by Amos’s revelations and disliking the fact that he still had absolutely no idea what it was that Devonshire hoped to achieve by engineering his tenure beneath Zach’s roof.
‘Something’s happened,’ Frankie said, sitting up in bed when Zach joined her. ‘I can always tell when you are preoccupied.’ She pressed the area between his eyebrows with the pad of her thumb, as though attempting to eradicate his deep worry lines.
‘You should be asleep,’ Zach chided, although he had been aware even before he joined her that she wouldn’t be. He pushed the covers back and slipped beneath them.
‘I can’t sleep when I am worried about something. I can’t sleep when you aren’t with me, either. I’ve become accustomed to using you to keep my feet warm.’
Zach smiled, pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head. She wrapped small feet that weren’t the slightest bit cold around his shin and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Actually, it’s as well that you are awake.’
‘I knew something was wrong.’ She leaned up on one elbow, her face creased with concern. ‘Has Mrs Brooke tried Amos’s patience beyond endurance? Really, I could throttle the woman for her insensitivity. Your brother was just starting to recover, and now she foists herself upon him, reemphasising the enormity of his loss.’
‘Actually, no.’ He explained about the plan to delay Mrs Brooke’s departure and also about her frank disclosures and Amos’s decision to treat her generously. ‘I’m sorry about arranging to keep our unwanted guests for another night without first consulting you. I don’t want them here any more than you do, but we need to keep Devonshire away from Yaris for a while longer in order to give Clarence the opportunity to do a little delving.’
‘I am very pleased with Amos’s charity, which Mrs Brooke had no right to expect,’ Frankie replied in a speculative tone. ‘She doesn’t deserve it, either, but I imagine that he did it out of respect for Crista’s memory. And if he had not, I wouldn’t put it past the woman to tell the world that the wealthy Lord Amos Sheridan allowed her to be thrown out onto the streets and did nothing to prevent it.’
‘Undoubtedly.’
‘If Devonshire’s circumstances are that dire, of course. I remain to be convinced. We only have Mrs Brooke’s word for it that they are.’
‘It’s hardly something she would be untruthful about,’ Zach replied. ‘After all, it would be easy enough for Amos to find out.’
Frankie wrinkled her nose. ‘Perhaps sulky Amelia is disenchanted with her marriage and has decided that she wants out of it no matter what.’ She shuddered. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest. She sits in the drawing room as our guest—which means she has a duty to put herself out and contribute to the conversation—yet she barely opens her mouth. Except of course when Mr Conroy is anywhere near her. Despite the fact that she supposedly adores her husband, she flutters her lashes at Mr Conroy and sends murderous looks towards Leona if she engages him in conversation. That one is a natural born flirt, and if she settles for a quiet life of seclusion with her mother then I will be very surprised.’
‘I dare say the same thought has occurred to Amos, but if Mrs Brooke tries to exploit his generosity, Amos will withdraw his support. His patience is not limitless, and she knows he will not be manipulated.’
‘As to Mrs Brooke remaining here a little longer, I’m sure I can put up with her. In fact, I managed to avoid seeing her at all today until the children were brought down. But are you sure that a day or so will be enough time for Clarence to make any useful discoveries?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Marlowe was Clarence’s responsibility, but I don’t suppose he had any dealings with Yaris or Devonshire. It seems to me that if you want to confirm that they are in league and plan to defraud Leona out of her inheritance, then their paths will have crossed sometime in the past and Clarence will know nothing about it. His reach is not limitless, and unless they have connections to the diplomatic world…’
‘Quite.’
‘Expecting to discover what hold Devonshire has over Yaris—if indeed he has one—so quickly is overly optimistic. They are neither of them complete imbeciles, and they will have covered their tracks well.’
‘You make a fair point, but Devonshire did stress the fact that he saw Marlowe in Paris. I hope Clarence might know why he was there and when. I’m sure it will not have been on official business, but you know how far Clarence’s tentacles reach. If an Englishman was in Paris and in touch with one of his diplomats, he will know something about it. At least, I hope he will. Anyway, I depend upon Max to frighten Yaris off and then it won’t matter how Devonshire and Yaris were thrown together.’
‘I wouldn’t hold out too much hope if I were you. If Devonshire is actually on the brink of losing everything his father worked to establish, it will make him even more desperate and determined. Besides, it’s obvious that he resents you and your prosperity, so instead of being frightened off by your authority, he will likely want to challenge it and grasp the spoils despite your support of Leona.’ She threw up one hand. ‘I know that sounds illogical but—'
‘He won’t be the first to try it.’
‘True, but don’t be complacent, Zach.’
‘I am not completely without wits.’ He kissed the end of her nose. ‘Adler tells me that the footman we allocated to Devonshire has been peppered with questions about your Lady Marlowe. He asked how long you have been friends with her, how far in advance her visit here was planned and where she intended to go next.’
‘That’s worrying, but at least it confirms our suspicions.’
‘It does. Adler only told me after Lady Marlowe retired, so I haven’t enlightened her. I likely won’t. There seems no need, since it only confirms what we already suspected.’
‘Leona will be safe while she is here, and we won’t let her leave until we get to the bottom of this sorry business.’ She yawned behind her hand, asked no further questions and instead settled down in the bed. ‘But now I am tired and I need to sleep.’
‘What are you plotting, woman?’ Zach asked, narrowing his eyes at the top of her head.
‘Me? When did I give you the least trouble?’
Zach laughed. ‘That is a question best left for another time.’
‘So true.’ She danced her fingers across his chest in a deliberate attempt, he was absolutely sure, to distract him.
‘Didn’t you mention something about the need for sleep?’ he asked in a provocative tone. ‘If you really are tired then I would advise against what you are doing, since we both know that it can only end one way.’
He sensed her smiling up at him. ‘Perhaps I am not so very tired,’ she said, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck and pull his head down for a kiss.
*
Something about the agreement they had come to in the library wasn’t right. They had overlooked an important factor or reached unsafe conclusions. Leona knew it the moment she left the duke’s inner sanctum, but she had been so distracted by Doran’s behaviour in the gallery that she hadn’t voiced her concerns. In fact they had flown clean out of her head and instead she had simply enjoyed being embraced by such a disarming individual who, she sensed, had instigated that embrace against his better judgement. A case of instinct trumping common sense.
She had been candid with Doran, told him things about her marriage that she hadn’t shared with anyone else. He’d shown empathy, but had not offered a reciprocal frankness. He had held part of himself back and remained detached, never completely letting his guard down. She would dearly love to know what disappointments he had suffered to cause such an outwardly extroverted man to be so cautious.
But it was none of her affair.
Leona punched her pillows into a more comfortable nest and adjured herself to dwell upon the business of Devonshire, a far more pressing concern than Doran’s chequered past. Yaris was George’s cousin—his mother’s sister’s s
on—that fact was indisputable. But he had no reasons that Leona was aware of to have assumed he would inherit George’s estate. It was not entailed. There was also the question of George’s fury when she failed to give him a son to take into account. All men wanted sons to carry on the family line, but his anger when she constantly failed to conceive was out of all proportion.
Devonshire had been in Paris at the same time as George, and had taken pleasure in boasting of the fact. Leona sat bolt upright as a possibility occurred to her. Could he have killed George at Yaris’s behest on condition that they shared the spoils? It seemed very cold-blooded, but if she was right then Devonshire would be a fool to advertise the fact that he had been in Paris around the right time. Then again, he was impossibly arrogant and probably assumed no one would make the connection, so he had amused himself at her expense by dropping heavy hints about a situation that he thought had left her heartbroken.
Leona felt hot and cold all over as she considered the possibility. No amount of rational thinking could dislodge it from her brain. Devonshire wanted her to know that she was being exploited, and she felt impotent because there was no way for her to prove it, or to bring him to justice. It was infuriating!
Lord Romsey clearly hadn’t suspected that George’s death had been anything other than a random attack by desperate men. Why would he, when he wasn’t acquainted with Devonshire? Leona couldn’t see what help he would be in getting to the truth—which was the problem, she now realised, that had been nagging at her subconscious. The duke had decided that Lord Romsey needed time to uncover the link between Devonshire and Yaris, and she had done what she ordinarily balked against and allowed a gentleman to make the decisions, assuming he knew best.
Well, it wouldn’t serve. There was only one way for Leona to discover the truth, and that was to get Devonshire alone and ask him, relying upon his arrogance and desire to boast about his brilliance in order to extract candid responses. She had rejected him and he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to exact a little revenge.
She fell asleep feeling wary yet determined. If she wanted to get her property back, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.
*
Amos joined Zach and Conroy in the breakfast parlour before it was fully light.
‘You couldn’t sleep either, little brother?’ Zach asked, looking up from his plate.
‘A lot on my mind.’ Amos helped himself from the covered dishes on the sideboard. He sat beside Conroy and across from Zach, but didn’t touch his food. ‘I hope I haven’t been taken in by Mrs Brooke.’
‘There’s not much else you could have done if she’s serious about taking her daughter away from Devonshire. It would reflect badly on all of us as a family if we disowned the connection. But Frankie is certain that Amelia won’t be content to live quietly, even if she can be torn away from Devonshire.’
‘She won’t be invited anywhere that matters,’ Conroy pointed out.
‘True, but there’s nothing to stop her from taking a wealthy lover.’
‘If she does anything to embarrass me, I shall withdraw my support.’ Amos stared out the window, watching the dawn break on what promised to be a warmer day. The wind had died down overnight and the temperature hadn’t dropped below freezing. The frost was already dripping steadily from bare branches, denting the softening snow beneath. The horses would be able to go out to one of the small paddocks for a few hours, he thought idly. ‘It’s Mrs Brooke who is of more immediate concern,’ he continued. ‘I found her soul-baring and self-deprecation out of character, excruciatingly embarrassing and frankly, highly suspicious.’
‘You made it clear that she will not get any help unless…until she distances herself from Devonshire.’
‘Of course.’ Amos forked scrambled eggs into his mouth.
‘And she’s well aware that you don’t make idle threats. God alone knows, she tried to win you round once you married Crista, but you told her in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t welcome here. Now her circumstances have provided her with a foothold in this house—albeit a tenuous one. She will not willingly give that up.’
‘You’re right.’ Amos lost his appetite and pushed his half-eaten breakfast aside. ‘It’s just that it stirs it all up again. Just when I thought…Anyway, if Devonshire and Yaris really are in league to dupe Lady Marlowe and it can be proven, then Devonshire will either have to scarper or risk being arrested. In either case, Mrs Brooke and her daughter will become my indirect responsibility.’
‘Talking of whom, I sent a message up to Devonshire just now telling him they will have to wait another day for their carriage to be repaired. The same message has been sent to Mrs Brooke.’
‘Well then, let’s hope that Clarence comes up with something we can work with, and fast. I have a bad feeling about this entire affair.’
Zach nodded, pushing his plate aside as well. ‘Frankie shares that view. She rightly points out that Marlowe was Clarence’s man and he probably knows a great deal about his affairs. More than he’s already told us, that’s for sure.’
‘But Yaris and Devonshire have nothing to do with the Diplomatic Service.’ Amos nodded emphatically as he spoke. ‘Although Clarence is a devious so-and-so, with fingers in any number of pies. His wealth of knowledge never fails to amaze me.’
‘It will be interesting to see what Devonshire does today,’ Zach replied. ‘If he leaves the Park for any reason, I shall of course have him followed.’
‘I have set my man with that task,’ Conroy said. ‘He’s not known in the district and has no ties to this house.’
‘Thank you,’ Amos said.
‘Don’t thank me,’ Conroy replied affably. ‘I have almost as much invested in the outcome of this sad business as Lady Marlowe does.’
‘Devonshire has no way of contacting Yaris other than by sending an express, which obviously he can’t do since the reply would have to come here,’ Amos reasoned. ‘He’s very much on his own. He has failed to intimidate Lady Marlow—if that was his intention—and won’t be able to get her alone and harm her. He’s probably a very concerned individual right now. He might be desperate enough to try and outwit you, Zach, but you’re not the type of man he’d take on lightly.’ Amos paused. ‘Have you considered confronting him?’
Zach took a moment to reflect before responding. ‘Call his bluff, you mean? Pretend we know more about his affairs than we actually do.’
‘Well, we are fairly sure that he’s connected with Yaris in some way. We could put it to him as an established fact. We’ve treated him with distant politeness during his time here, so he won’t be expecting a frontal assault. Might make him panic.’
‘He’s hardly going to admit to something that will see him gaoled.’
‘No,’ Amos replied, ‘but he might sell out Yaris to save his own hide.’
‘It’s possible, but I would have to involve Lady Marlowe in the confrontation, which is something I would prefer to avoid doing.’
‘She is already involved, Zach. Besides, I would imagine that she would enjoy the opportunity to go on the offensive.’ Amos chuckled. ‘She doesn’t seem like the passive type. And you, Conroy. I dare say you would love to have at the man.’
‘I would, but I agree with the duke. He’s unlikely to admit anything and we will have revealed our hand for no purpose. That might jolt Yaris into doing something desperate.’
‘I am going to give it a few hours and see if any news gets through from Clarence,’ Zach said. ‘Let’s revisit the problem later today.’
‘Of course. Let me know whatever you need from me.’ Amos put his napkin aside and stood. ‘Excuse me, I had best warn Ariana that Mrs Brooke is staying for another day so that she can prepare the children.’
It was earlier than Amos had realised. Ariana wouldn’t yet be in the nursery and he ought to wait until she was there before breaking news that she wouldn’t enjoy hearing. But the thought of having her to himself for a minute or two was too compelling to d
ismiss. It was as though by coming to his private quarters—had it only been yesterday?—the tenor of their relationship had undergone a marked alteration. All the memories of Crista that had been stirred up by her mother’s arrival had been less disturbing that Amos had feared. It wasn’t as though his dead wife was ever far from his mind or his conscience, but the feelings he harboured for Ariana had gradually grown in strength since Amos had first admitted them to himself, and no longer felt like disloyalty. He could hear Crista’s voice in the recesses of his mind, telling him to live his life.
Perhaps the time had come to listen to her.
He passed Devonshire in the gallery and they exchanged a brief nod.
‘Seems we are to trespass upon your hospitality for another day,’ Devonshire said.
‘So I understand. I’m surprised to see you up and about so early.’
‘I imagined we would be back on the road, otherwise I wouldn’t be. Damned uncivilised time to throw back the covers for any other reason.’ He yawned without bothering to cover his mouth. ‘I suppose I had better borrow some transport and go into Shawford to see what the delay is with the carriage. What an almighty bore. Still, I need to do something to pass the time and they have a decent taproom in that tavern, I happened to notice.’
‘Speak with Adler.’ Amos was disgusted by the man’s indolence. ‘He will make the arrangements.’
‘Much obliged, I’m sure.’
Amos walked away from Devonshire and heard his heavy tread as he made his way down the stairs. Amos paused outside Ariana’s door and found himself looking in both directions like a guilty lover about to embark upon a daylight assignation. The thought made him smile as he tapped at the door. Ariana opened it with her hair hanging loose around her shoulders and tumbling down her back in sleek waves.
‘Lord Amos. Is something wrong?’ A hand flew to her cheek. ‘One of the children…’
On the Duke's Authority (Ducal Encounters series 4 Book 3) Page 17