The carriage ride to Lady Carpenter’s abode was a short one, but it was hindered by clogged streets on a cold winter’s night in the middle of a season in full swing. Sophia’s aunt filled the time with mindless chatter, to which Sophia was required to pay some attention and respond in the appropriate places.
‘I dare say every gentleman in attendance will be keen to impress you, my dear. I hear the Duke of Alton has accepted, no doubt in the hope of seeing you again.’
‘I shouldn’t think so, Aunt. I expect he is attending simply because he knows it is required of him to be sociable.’
‘Dukes can do as they please,’ her uncle remarked, joining the conversation for the first time. ‘He showed his face in White’s when I was there yesterday but didn’t trouble himself to speak with anyone other than his friend Ritcher and Purvis.’
‘Purvis?’ Sophia tried to appear interested rather than alarmed, wondering what Maria’s besotted viscount might have revealed or implied. A man of the duke’s sharp intellect wouldn’t have much trouble persuading him to speak indiscreetly. ‘I wonder at their knowing one another.’
Their carriage reached the head of the queue to Lady Carpenter’s door at that point, precluding an answer or any awkward questions from Sophia’s relatives. She took a footman’s hand as he helped her to alight, divested herself of her outdoor clothing in an ante-room and looked in the mirror to satisfy herself that her coiffure was still tidy.
‘Goodness,’ her aunt said, peering through the drawing room doors. ‘The place is jammed. Lady Carpenter obviously ensured that everyone who is anyone knew of the duke’s intended presence. Shall we, my dear?’
Sophia and her aunt paid their respects to Lady Carpenter and moved slowly through the throng, pausing to greet acquaintances along the way. Sophia was aware of the number of gentlemen who broke away from their conversations to deliberately intercept her. She was flattered by the attention but didn’t allow herself to be detained by any of them. She lost contact with her aunt at some point and wandered through the open double doors to the adjoining room, trying not to make it obvious that she was searching for the duke.
She saw a thick cluster of people in front of the fireplace and knew that she had found him. About to approach, she paused when she realised that he was deep in conversation with a particular lady. She didn’t recognise her immediately, and felt a sharp pang of inappropriate jealousy.
‘What on earth…’
Ross was acutely aware of the stir he created upon entering Lady Carpenter’s drawing room and allowed himself a small, resigned sigh. He said all the right things to his hostess, wondering why people set so much store by such pointless gatherings. The air was filled with a cloying perfume that made him want to sneeze and failed to conceal the aroma of overheated bodies. Ross resisted the urge to throw open a window and fill his lungs with the cold and polluted city air. He felt yet another pang of regret at leaving the clean air of Carolina and his relatively uncomplicated lifestyle behind him.
He strolled through the crowded rooms, thinking that he had probably arrived too early, since there was no sign of Miss Kennard’s distinctive russet curls. Nor were there any convenient pillars for him to hide behind on this occasion, and he quickly found himself surrounded by people who were keen to make his acquaintance. Thankfully Mark appeared and obligingly made introductions, shielding Ross from the more determined matrons by keeping the conversation flowing, making it impossible for the matrons in question to ply him with intrusive questions.
‘Ross, you elusive boy. There you are.’
Ross’s head jerked up abruptly at the sound of a familiar voice that he hadn’t expected to hear in London. The crowds around him parted, a woman emerged through the pack of bodies and his worst fears were realised.
‘Emily. What the devil are you doing here?’
‘What sort of greeting is that?’ Andrew’s widow stood on her toes and kissed Ross’s cheek, watched by an interested audience, in a gesture of possessiveness that both infuriated and worried Ross. He couldn’t decide what she hoped to achieve by it and could do without the added complication of having her dogging his footsteps here in the capital.
‘I thought we agreed that you would remain in Hampshire,’ he said.
‘I didn’t agree to anything. I have come up to town to stay with my friend Belinda for a few weeks. Surely you do not begrudge me my share of society.’
‘You are still in mourning.’
‘Half-mourning,’ Emily replied, indicating her dove-grey gown with a sweep of a hand.
Ross closed his eyes and made a quick calculation. By his reckoning, it was only a little past six months since Andrew’s demise. Emily hadn’t lost any time shedding her black garb.
‘I see,’ he said, imbuing the two words with a wealth of disapproval.
Emily, immune to criticism, linked an arm through Ross’s and led him aside. ‘You need me here to point out the pitfalls of London society. You are unaccustomed to its complexities and the stratagems some people will use. In fact, word has reached me that you have been singled out by the conniving Sophia Kennard.’
Ross blinked at her. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Oh, don’t pretend to be offended.’ Emily flapped her free hand in a negligent manner. ‘You are a duke now. A rich, handsome and eligible duke who is out of touch and cannot afford to give the wrong impression.’
Ross wanted to throttle her with his bare hands, the suspicions that had formed in his mind when first returning to England and reacquainting himself with Emily confirmed. She had actually thought that she would continue to be the Duchess of Alton because Ross would marry her.
Astonishing!
She knew of Andrew’s association with Maria Kennard, which would account, he supposed, for her dislike of her sister. Even so, he wasn’t about to allow her to interfere in his affairs, and remained icily detached from her criticism. ‘Thank you for your advice but I am well able to look out for myself.’
‘That I don’t doubt, but even you are no match for ambitious matrons of the ton. There is no ploy that is beneath them when it comes to marrying off their tiresome daughters and you have probably forgotten the rules that apply.’
Ross treated her to a quelling look. ‘What are your objections to Miss Kennard?’ he asked, interested to see how she would respond.
‘Well…she. That is to say, I…’
‘You do not like her.’ Ross curled his upper lip. ‘That doesn’t surprise me. She is considerably younger than you and a rare beauty. Jealousy doesn’t become you, Emily.’
‘Bah, jealousy! What do I have to be jealous about?’
‘That is a question only you can answer.’
‘Her sister Maria…you are aware that she has a sister?’
‘She told me so herself.’
‘But she probably did not tell you that Maria ran completely wild.’ Emily tossed her head in an attempt to adopt the moral high ground, seeming to have conveniently forgotten that she herself had tried to entice Ross into her bed not long after she’d married Andrew. ‘She has disappeared from society all together now—the sister, that is—which makes one wonder. We shall be charitable and say that at least she had the grace to withdraw when she realised that her behaviour went beyond the pale, but her actions will certainly have a detrimental effect upon the sister’s reputation. She has no money and must be depending upon her looks to make a good match. However,’ Emily added with considerable satisfaction and a little desperation in her tone, ‘no respectable man will take her now.’
‘I’m told that my attentions have restored her reputation,’ Ross replied indolently.
Emily let out a low hiss. ‘Be careful, Ross. You will finish up being obliged to marry the chit and live to regret it. Those girls are not as virtuous as they appear to be.’
‘I cannot think of any reason why a man would regret being married to such a vision,’ Ross replied in a provocative tone.
‘You are besotted with her!’
Anger and jealousy competed for dominance in Emily’s expression as she huffed indignantly. ‘Why are men so easily swayed by a pretty face? It’s clear that I arrived not a moment too soon.’
‘Why do you dislike the Kennard sisters so violently?’ Ross asked. ‘What has either of them done to you? Bear in mind before you turn up your nose and pretend to be the epitome of virtue that you were not exactly subtle in your pursuit of me ten years ago.’
Emily’s cheeks coloured. ‘I was not serious.’
‘Of course you were not.’
‘Maria Kennard and Andrew were friends.’ Emily shuddered. ‘More than friends, if the rumours are to be believed. It was humiliating.’
‘That is not Sophia’s fault.’
‘Sophia, is it?’ Emily sent Ross a disapproving look. ‘Don’t be taken in by her. Your first loyalty ought to be to your family. Her sister treated a decent man outlandishly. Fortunately, his mama managed to extract him from an engagement that would have been the mésalliance of the century.’
‘You refer to Purvis.’
‘My my, you have been busy.’
‘I need to understand what happened to Andrew.’
Momentary alarm flitted through her expression, causing Ross to wonder what she had to be concerned about. ‘He was set upon by vagabonds and robbed of his possessions. There is no mystery about it, Ross.’ Emily touched his arm with gloved fingers. ‘Andrew thought he was invincible.’
‘He made a habit out of wandering the streets of London alone after dark, did he?’
Emily shrugged. ‘Andrew was a law unto himself.’
‘Perhaps.’ He fixed his brother’s widow with a contemplative look. Her beauty had faded with the advancing years. She would hate to know that the network of lines around her eyes had not been concealed by artfully applied face paint. ‘How are you acquainted with Purvis?’
‘Oh, he was a friend of Andrew’s, always in and out of Ravenscroft whenever his business interests brought him to Hampshire. He has a small estate there which he likes to supervise personally.’
‘Does he indeed.’
‘Anyway, he is better off without Maria Kennard sullying his name. You will be well advised to steer clear of that family too. Their reputation is tarnished.’
Ross shook her hand from his arm, disgusted by the depths of her spite. ‘I cannot prevent you from being in London if you are determined to remain,’ he said coldly, ‘but let me make several things clear to you. I will not tolerate your interference in my affairs, well-intentioned or otherwise. What’s more, I don’t know how you intend to fund your stay in town, but would strongly advise you not to run up any expenses since I will not settle your debts for a second time.’ He paused and fixed her with an implacable look that caused her to shrink from him. ‘I mean what I say.’
‘Call and see me at Belinda’s tomorrow and I will see what I can do to help you, if you are determined to delve into Andrew’s affairs.’
‘Perhaps. Good evening to you, Emily.’
Ross strolled away from his brother’s wife, feeling angry and unsettled by her clumsy attempts to manipulate him. Should he call upon her? Did she know anything, or was it a ploy to have him to herself? He wondered as well exactly how much detail she possessed about Andrew’s association with Maria Kennard, if she would tell him what she did know and whether it would help him to discover the truth even if she did.
He felt a moment’s sympathy for her when he recalled the rumours that Mark assured him had circulated about Andrew’s outlandish behaviour, titillating society and causing tongues to wag. He reminded himself that Emily was at least as amoral as her late husband, but presumably the rumours of Andrew being smitten to the extent that he had forgotten to be discreet made Emily appear incapable of pleasing her husband. She would abhor being deemed wanting in that regard.
He glanced across the room at the sound of a familiar peal of laughter and noticed Sophia, looking breathtakingly lovely in a simple cream gown that clung to her curves in such an enticing manner that Ross was in danger of forgetting his own name. She was in conversation with two eager gentlemen whom Mark had earlier pointed out to him. They were Blake and Swinton, the two men whom Ross had come in the expectation of meeting.
She glanced in his direction and fixed him with an uncertain smile that convinced Ross she was only engaging the men for his sake. It was time to put Emily’s petty jealousies aside, rescue Sophia from unwanted attentions and get some answers.
Chapter Seven
Sophia’s breath hitched in her throat when she recognised the female monopolising the duke as Andrew’s wife; a woman who had made little attempt to hide her contempt for Maria. Her disdain had extended to Sophia and she had gone so far as to cut her when they had met in their local Hampshire village a few weeks previously. She watched her now, thinking she appeared to be staking some sort of claim to the duke, making her appear a little desperate. The duke had implied that his brother’s wife would remain with her children in Hampshire, causing Sophia to wonder what she was doing here now.
Had his grace been aware of her presence in London all along and hidden it from her? Why? Presumably to earn her trust and persuade her to reveal the full extent of Maria’s involvement with Andrew so that he could procure revenge on his sister-in-law’s behalf. Had she been duped? All her old insecurities returned as the possibility took hold, and even the stir that her reinvented gown appeared to have created was insufficient to restore her fragile self-confidence.
She suppressed a smile when she noticed the duke shake the duchess’s hand from his arm and stalk away from her, his shoulders stiff. Perhaps she had got it wrong and done him a disservice. She caught a brief glimpse of anger in his expression, implying that he hadn’t expected to see Emily and wasn’t especially pleased that their paths had crossed.
Sophia was in agreement with him on that particular point, aware that the duchess had a high opinion of herself and could be dangerous and vindictive when she didn’t get her way. If the new duke had spurned her company then she would likely turn her spite upon Sophia, if only vicariously, since she would already know that the duke had singled her out the previous evening. That particular on dit would have swept through all the drawing rooms in London before dawn broke.
The woman was a powerful force with equally powerful friends, and she wouldn’t hesitate to use her influence to poison minds against Sophia by instigating a whispering campaign. That sort of thing happened frequently in this so-called civilized society where who you were counted for more than the inconvenience of the truth. Emily wouldn’t have to try very hard to turn people against her, Sophia conceded with a weary sigh, given that Maria’s reputation was already indelibly tarnished. Sophia herself had never had much time for the duchess; a neighbour whom she considered pompous and overbearing and who resented competition from other females.
Deep in contemplation, Sophia was taken unawares when Blake and Swinton descended upon her. Ordinarily, she would extract herself from their company at the earliest opportunity, but since she had attended tonight with the express purpose of speaking with them, she forced herself to smile as she dipped a curtsey and absorbed their facile compliments.
‘You look ravishing,’ Blake said with what was probably supposed to be an intimately enticing smile. Sophia thought it made him look as though he had eaten something that disagreed with him.
‘A picture indeed,’ Swinton added, bowing over her hand. ‘We hoped you would be here this evening and that we would have the opportunity to enjoy your society. You don’t show yourself nearly often enough, which is unpardonable. Anyway, we are going on to a party at Lady Tilton’s and hope your aunt will allow us to escort you to it.’
‘I have not been invited,’ Sophia said, quelling her anger at their presumption. They both knew very well that if she attended unchaperoned her reputation would never recover. Presumably they assumed she was as uncaring as her sister when it came to society’s mores, in which case they would soon discover
their mistake.
‘We have been invited,’ Blake assured her, somehow managing to swagger whilst standing still, probably encouraged because she hadn’t already issued the put-down they deserved and walked away.
That option was available to her, she reminded herself. She owed the duke nothing, and given her doubts about Maria, it would be safer if she left him to conduct his investigations alone. But if she did that she wouldn’t know if he suspected Maria of involvement. Even if he did, there was nothing she could do to prevent him from following that line of investigation. She glanced at him as he stood on the opposite side of the room, besieged by a throng of people keen to make his acquaintance. As if sensing her watching him, he looked over the heads surrounding him directly at her, and their gazes clashed and held. Her heart lurched as a faint smile touched his lips and she knew then that she would continue to help him, no matter what unpalatable truths about her sister were uncovered.
Being involved with the duke’s enquiry made her feel energised and gave her a purpose, she told herself. She now wanted to know what happened to Andrew almost as much as he did. She was breaking free from her sister’s shadow and was ready to forge her own path, it seemed. There was also the not inconsequential problem of her being attracted to the duke in a most inconvenient manner over which she had absolutely no control. It was ridiculous really. He was handsome and self-assured, that much was undeniable. But then so were the two gentlemen currently attempting to whisk her off to a party and she found their charms easy to resist.
‘Miss Kennard.’
She hadn’t noticed the duke extract himself from the midst of his admirers and cross the room to join her, but his timely intervention negated the need for Sophia to respond to Swinton’s invitation.
‘Your grace.’ Sophia bobbed a curtsey, then indicated Blake and Swinton and made the introduction.
‘We were close friends of your brother’s,’ Blake said, shaking the duke’s hand. ‘You have our sympathy.’
A Duke in Turmoil: Dangerous Dukes Vol 9 Page 8