Ross stood in the entrance to the room, surveying its occupants and briefly wondering what he was doing there. Damn Andrew for being inconsiderate enough to get himself murdered. And damn his own conscience, Ross thought, for his determination to discover why.
Mark raised a hand when he noticed Ross and crossed the room to join him.
‘Welcome to the lion’s den,’ Mark said, shaking Ross’s hand.
‘What’s all the excitement about?’ Ross asked, indicating a gaggle of gentlemen who’d been in animated conversation until they saw Ross. They had fallen quiet when he appeared and now regarded him with varying degrees of amusement.
‘Surely you’ve heard of the famous book.’ Mark laughed when Ross looked blank. ‘You’ve been away for too long.’
‘I might give you an argument on that score.’
‘Either way, I’m sure you know how the idle rich enjoy gambling. White’s keeps the ultimate book in that respect.’
‘What on earth do they wager on?’
‘Anything fashionable.’ Mark chuckled. ‘Anything at all, come to that. You are the latest attraction.’
‘Good heavens.’ Ross raised both brows. ‘What have I done?’
‘Showing your face in society was your first mistake.’
‘We are in agreement on that point,’ Ross replied, shuddering and simultaneously nodding his thanks when a steward, who’d been summoned by Mark, handed Ross a glass of burgundy.
‘But worse, you only danced once, and that was with Miss Kennard. Now speculation is rife.’
‘Lord have mercy,’ Ross muttered.
‘It’s generally accepted that you must marry and produce an heir. This lot assume you attended last night’s ball in order to select a suitable wife and…well, you were seen in the park this morning with Miss Kennard so the odds have shortened considerably.’
Ross shook his head, thinking of the man who’d ridden past them and had not appeared to recognise him. Clearly he had done so. Sighing, he followed Mark to a corner with comfortable chairs arranged around a small table. He had a good view of the room but couldn’t put names to more than a dozen of its many occupants. Mark obligingly pointed out various people, but Ross was only mildly interested in their identities, until a new arrival caused Mark to sit upright.
‘Purvis,’ he muttered.
Ross looked with interest at the man he was convinced that Andrew had cuckolded. He was tall and broad shouldered with a handsome face but thinning sandy hair and a weak chin that an abundance of whiskers failed to disguise. There was an affability about him that spoke of a slowness of wit, causing Ross to think that any female looking to snare herself a rich and titled husband would find him easy prey.
‘If Maria Kennard is as beautiful as her sister and even half as intelligent, she’ll run rings around a man of his stature,’ Ross said softly.
‘Oh, she is a vision but deadly with it. Maria Kennard has ambitions.’
‘Which makes one wonder why she spread her legs for my brother,’ Ross replied, an edge to his voice. ‘Pregnancy has thwarted her plans.’
‘Pregnancy?’ Mark blinked and Ross recalled he had not enlightened him following his meeting with Sophia. Trusting him absolutely to be discreet, he told him what he had learned.
‘Bear in mind that Maria cavorted with Andrew and Purvis, knocking back brandy and what have you,’ Mark said. ‘It would have dulled her senses and she likely let her guard down. There again, it wouldn’t surprise me if Andrew made her promises in order to get what he wanted from her. Sorry, Ross, but I hope I can speak candidly.’
‘Ditch Emily and marry her, you mean?’ Ross nodded in response to his own question. ‘We have already speculated in that regard but I am no further forward in knowing if we have got it right. I wonder how she responded when she discovered her condition and Andrew reneged on his promise.’
‘You think Maria arranged for Andrew to be killed in a quest for revenge?’ Mark looked shocked. ‘I say!’
‘Women have never plotted murder? You seem to have forgotten the endlessly dreary Shakespeare we were obliged to endure at school. It seems that Maria is capable of bending most men to her will. I’m not suggesting that she thrust a dagger into Andrew’s heart herself, but the picture I’m getting of her is that of a woman determined to have the final word. Falling pregnant inconveniently spoiled her plans to become Lady Purvis, which is what she intended to fall back on if Andrew didn’t deliver.’
‘Purvis probably thinks the child is his. If she hadn’t shared his bed, she would have done so the moment she realised her condition, and he will believe that he fathered her child simply because he wants it to be so, and because he’s too damned trusting. Do you want to meet him?’
Ross sighed. ‘Might as well.’
Mark stood and beckoned Purvis over. He broke off his conversation with another man and sauntered towards them, smiling amiably.
‘I say, Ritcher,’ he drawled. ‘What’s to do?’
‘Let me make you known to Alton,’ Mark replied, shaking Purvis’s outstretched hand.
Ross watched the man closely and thought he noticed momentary fear flicker through his pale eyes when he realised Ross’s identity. But it was gone again before he could be sure, and Purvis now offered his hand to Ross. His palm was clammy to the touch, his handshake limp.
‘My condolences,’ Purvis said. ‘Terrible business. Andrew was a good man and a personal friend. His loss will be felt most keenly.’
‘Thank you.’
Ross resumed his seat while Mark summoned a steward and asked him to bring a glass for Purvis. There was a permanent half-smile playing about Purvis’s lips and he now seemed perfectly comfortable in Ross’s presence, making him wonder if he had imagined the momentary fear. He was fairly sure that Purvis wasn’t aware of the true nature of Maria’s relationship with Andrew or that he would have been capable of orchestrating his murder even if he had been. But there again, he reminded himself that it didn’t do to jump to conclusions. He had seen more than one example of the lengths a jealous man would go to, acting completely out of character when pushed too far, during his years in America.
He would keep an open mind.
‘You have interests in Hampshire close to the family seat, I’m told,’ Ross said, taking a healthy sip of his wine. ‘Presumably that is how your path crossed with Andrew’s.’
‘Actually, no.’ Purvis grinned. ‘It was my intended who made the introduction.’
Ross feigned surprise. ‘Really? I wasn’t aware that you were engaged to be married. Not that there is any reason why I should be. I am completely out of touch. Congratulations.’
‘Shush!’ Purvis put a finger to his lips and leaned forward in his chair. ‘There’s been a bit of a misunderstanding. The mater doesn’t approve of the lady, but her disapproval will wane.’ He smiled broadly. ‘Given time.’
‘I see. In that case, I shall not ask you anything else.’
‘Best not. I’m terrible at keeping secrets.’
Ross made his way home shortly after that, convinced that Purvis still intended to marry Maria. He wondered if Sophia was aware of the fact and if that was what she had kept from him that morning. He fully intended to ask her at the earliest opportunity.
Chapter Six
Sophia agonised over the contents of her pathetically small and outdated wardrobe and sighed. She so wanted to look her best at Lady Carpenter’s soiree and stand out from the crowd for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with the imposing gentleman whom she had agreed to meet there, but she wasn’t optimistic about her chances of achieving that ambition.
‘The cream muslin enhances your figure.’
The sound of Phyllis’s voice caused Sophia to start violently, and she clutched a hand to her bosom. ‘Heavens, Phyllis, are you trying to give me a heart attack?’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise you were there.’
‘I did clear my throat several times, but you were miles away.’ Phyllis shooed the ginger ki
tten that Sophia had adopted off her bed. It disappeared beneath it, chasing after a torn length of ribbon that Sophia was using to play with the creature. ‘Can’t imagine what you were thinking about.’
About Maria and her selfishness, Sophia thought, wondering if her sister had always spoken to her in such a denigrating manner and why it hadn’t occurred to Sophia before now to take exception to her attitude. Perhaps because she had always looked up to her older sister, she supposed. Maria was the greatest possible fun when she got her own way—especially, Sophia realised, when she was the centre of attention. Being forced by her own liberal behaviour into seclusion showed her in her true light, and Sophia didn’t much care for the view.
‘The cream muslin is hopelessly dated,’ Sophia said with a wistful sigh. ‘It’s had its day.’
‘Nonsense,’ Phyllis replied briskly. ‘Waste not, want not. It just needs some new trimmings and a few nips and tucks to transform it. We saw that pretty lace in Bond Street last week that would work well. That and a few turquoise ribbons would set it off a treat.’
‘The lace was…’ Sophia’s words trailed off as she managed to stop herself from remarking upon its outlandish cost. Maria, she knew, would not have taken the expense into account, so nor for once would Sophia. She was tired of always being practical. ‘Very well, Phyllis.’ She laughed when the kitten emerged from its hiding place and jumped onto her lap, purring erratically. ‘Go and purchase what’s needed and work your magic.’
Phyllis grinned broadly. ‘I’ll run and fetch my bonnet,’ she said, leaving the room at a brisk trot.
Sophia remained occupied for the rest of the day, accompanying her aunt on social calls that allowed her no opportunity to dwell upon Maria’s situation or to think too much about her engagement for that evening. Even so, the possibility of Maria knowing more about Andrew’s demise than she had admitted continued to play on her mind, dampening her enthusiasm for her meeting with the duke.
When the time came to change for the evening, Sophia was filled with doubts about Phyllis’s ability to alter such an old and favoured gown into something that would pass muster beneath the chandeliers of a drawing room filled with the cream of society. Phyllis was a wonder with a needle but even she had her limitations.
‘Good heavens!’ Sophia blinked when she walked into her bedchamber and saw her old gown hanging outside the armoire. She barely recognised it. ‘The transformation is quite remarkable,’ she said, fingering the lace flounce with reverent fingers. ‘I would not have recognised a gown that I must have worn hundreds of times.’
‘That’s the entire point,’ Phyllis replied, pouring hot water into the ewer. ‘I’m rather pleased with it, though I do say so myself. Your duke will be enchanted.’
‘He is not my duke, Phyllis, and he’s never likely to be. He only wants to find out what happened to his brother.’
‘And he can’t do that without your help?’ Phyllis grinned as she helped Sophia out of her day gown. ‘He don’t strike me as the type who’d ordinarily depend upon a woman. He’s making excuses to spend time with you, if you ask me.’ She chuckled. ‘Maria will have a conniption if word reaches her.’
‘Hmm.’ Sophia fell into momentary contemplation, a concern that had been steadily growing since seeing Maria the previous day now taking a firmer hold. ‘Do you suppose that Maria knows what really happened to Andrew? That his death wasn’t the unmotivated crime it appeared to be? Not that I think my sister capable of orchestrating murders,’ she added hastily. ‘But it could have been one of their pranks that went wrong.’
‘What’s brought this on? You don’t usually entertain doubts about your saintly sister’s conduct.’
‘I suppose I’ve been a little blinkered when it comes to her behaviour.’ Sophia held up her arms so that Phyllis could slip a clean chemise over her head. ‘I have looked up to her, you see, ever since Mama died. I know she isn’t that much older than me and I have always been the more responsible one, but still…’
Phyllis grunted but didn’t trouble herself to voice her thoughts. She didn’t need to. Sophia was well aware of Phyllis’s opinion of Maria, as was Maria herself. She had often tried to have Sophia dispense with her services, being averse to criticism of any hue, but rather than rushing to comply with Maria’s whim, it was the one area in which Sophia had always stood firm. Phyllis had given many years of excellent service. She had comforted Sophia in her hour of need after the death of her father and become a confidante and friend. Sophia couldn’t manage without her and had no intention of attempting to.
‘When I saw Maria yesterday,’ Sophia said pensively, ‘she seemed very concerned when I told her that the new duke was looking for answers. She insisted that he should call to see her and that she would talk to him in private.’
‘And that surprises you?’ Phyllis planted her fisted hands on her hips and pursed her lips in disapproval. ‘She probably thinks that she can draw him in, just like she does with every other man she meets. She don’t stop to think how her behaviour affects others,’ she added, fixing Sophia with a significant look. ‘Anyway, she won’t manage to pull the wool over his grace’s eyes. I can tell you right now that he won’t fall for her shenanigans.’
‘What should I do?’ Sophia glanced at her maid as her brow creased into a frown. ‘I feel torn between a desire to get to the truth and a concern that Maria might somehow be culpable.’
‘Despite the manner in which Maria has manipulated you for all these years—’
‘Has she?’ Sophia didn’t need to feign surprise. ‘In what respect?’
‘In every respect. She knows you’re at least as pretty as her but far sweeter natured. She’s seen how your disinclination to flirt and behave outrageously draws you to the attention of the types of gentlemen she would secretly like to attract herself.’ Phyllis grinned. ‘Like his grace, for instance. Maria dislikes competition, as we both know, especially from her younger sister. So, she’s worked on your lack of self-esteem and convinced you that there’s nothing special about you.’
Sophia lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. ‘Well, there isn’t.’
Phyllis threw up her hands. ‘Look in the mirror, pet.’
Sophia shook her head. ‘I just don’t see it.’
‘Which is why you will engage the attention of a principled man like the new duke and she never will.’ Phyllis picked up the hairbrush. ‘Now, let’s restore some order to these chaotic curls.’
‘Maria intends to elope with Purvis the moment her child is born,’ Sophia said, watching Phyllis as she tamed her hair into a flattering style, leaving long, spiral curls dancing on shoulders bared by the neckline of her gown. She didn’t recall it being quite so low before and wondered if more than just the flounces had been redesigned by Phyllis’s skilled fingers.
‘It’s about the only way he’ll every marry her, his mother will see to that,’ Phyllis replied with a grunt.
‘Yes well, Maria will get what she wants. She always does.’
‘Glad you can see her for what she is at last.’
‘Phyllis!’
‘I know she’s your sister and you love her, but that don’t mean you have to approve of her conduct or model your own behaviour on hers.’
‘Well, there’s nothing I can do to stop the duke’s investigations, and if they show Maria in an unflattering light then I shall just have to find a way to cope with the shame.’
‘The duke won’t judge you by her standards. He strikes me as being a bit more intelligent than that.’
‘You don’t know him, so how can you possibly be so sure?’
‘I spent a lot of time talking to his man.’ Phyllis’s cheeks coloured. ‘You can judge a lot by the way a person’s servant conducts himself, you just take it from me. He was in America with the duke and has done and seen so many things. He’s dedicated to his service and speaks very highly of his grace.’
‘Well,’ Sophia replied, suppressing a mischievous smile. ‘If you are unsure a
bout Mr Tanner’s character I dare say a further meeting can be contrived.’
‘Get away with you.’ Phyllis flapped her hands, looking uncharacteristically ruffled. ‘Now, my work is done. Stand up and tell me what you think of my efforts.’
Sophia stood and examined her appearance in the long glass, letting out a little gasp at what she saw. It was her, Sophia Kennard, staring defiantly back at her, just like always, and yet she seemed different. The changes were not only attributable to the reworked gown. Something had changed in Sophia’s expression, too. There was an awareness, a sense of expectation, that hadn’t been there before. She felt her heart rate increase and knew that the prospect of seeing the duke again was responsible for the changes. She craved his approval and wanted to help him, but how could she do so if she risked condemning her own sister?
With a sigh she turned away from the glass, deterred by her own reflection.
‘I look almost grown up,’ she said, making light of her feelings. ‘Thank you, Phyllis.’
‘Get away with you. It’s beyond time that you found the confidence to eclipse your sister.’
‘I’m not sure about that, but at least I won’t have to worry about not looking fashionable.’
‘You could wear a sack and still engage the attention of every gentleman in the room.’
Sophia smiled and spontaneously kissed her maid’s cheek. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’
Sophia joined her aunt and uncle in the drawing room. For once they were ready to leave immediately, saving Sophia from the agony that a delay would have played on her nerves. She had no reason to be nervous at meeting the duke again, she told herself, but the fact remained that she felt a little daunted by his intellect. And very worried that he was attempting to lure her into an indiscretion—at least insofar as Maria’s conduct and involvement with his brother were concerned.
A Duke in Turmoil: Dangerous Dukes Vol 9 Page 7