She nodded and allowed him to escort her into the warmth and noise of the ballroom.
‘We need to talk again tomorrow, after you have seen Maria,’ he said quietly.
‘Of course that is what concerns you,’ she said, turning her head away from him, but not so quickly that he didn’t see a tear trickling down her cheek. ‘I will send a note.’
And with that she swept away from him, was swallowed up by the crowd and he didn’t see her again for the rest of the evening. Presumably she had gone home early, leaving a shadow hanging over their friendship. Ross cursed his inability to behave like a rational gentleman when he was anywhere near her, but now was not the time to dwell upon his dealings with the independently-minded, highly principled and oh-so-desirable and most definitely distracting Miss Sophia Kennard. He had more pressing matters to attend to.
He couldn’t see Emily anywhere, so he assumed that she was still outside. She would freeze to death if she lingered for much longer—unless she had gone off somewhere with Greenacre. A laborious half-hour later, he saw her slip back into the ballroom, looking uncharacteristically unkempt. She had been gone for the best part of an hour. At the same moment his friend Ewan McIntyre emerged from the card room, attempting to lure Ross into the game.
‘I know better than to sit down at the same table as you,’ Ross said, shooing him away with his hands. ‘You have the luck of the devil—a lesson I learned many years ago.’
‘Luck has nothing to do with it, my friend. It’s skill. Pure skill.’
Ross laughed. ‘Of course it is.’
‘There are plump pockets in that room. Men with more money than wisdom. It would be impolite not to relieve them of some of their burdensome wealth.’
‘I see you have your eye on the heiress,’ Ross remarked after a short pause when Miss Courtney passed down the dance in progress and sent a coy look Ewan’s way.
‘A man has to have something to live on apart from his gambling success,’ Ewan replied cheerfully. ‘She’d make a biddable enough wife.’
‘You have a lot of competition.’
Ewan glanced at the cardroom and laughed. ‘As I say, it’s knowing how to play the game that brings rewards.’
Ross laughed too, thinking his old friend as irrepressible as ever. ‘If you say so.’
‘Who was the pretty little thing I noticed you waltzing with?’ he asked. ‘Everywhere I turn, I hear whispers of disapproval. She is the only chit you’ve graced the floor with this evening, which is remiss of a man in your position.’
‘A man in my position can do as he damned well pleases.’
‘Well, I can see why she would please you. She’s a diamond. You didn’t tell me her name.’
‘And why would I do that?’
‘Afraid of a little competition?’ Ewan asked in a provocative tone.
‘Not from you, given that you need a rich wife.’
‘Ah, so you are thinking along those lines.’
‘I have more pressing concerns at present.’
‘Like discovering what happened to Andrew. I have heard whispers about your ruffling feathers,’ Ewan explained in response to Ross’s surprised look.
‘Whose feathers have I ruffled? I thought I had been discreet.’
‘You know what the ton is like for gossip. Well, perhaps you don’t but word gets around. Anyway, why the interest? Andrew’s gone and nothing can bring him back. Besides, I thought you and he didn’t get along.’
‘We didn’t, not really, but he was still my brother and there are an awful lot of unanswered questions about the night he died. Besides, he sent for me and specifically asked me to come home. Andrew wasn’t one to beg, or even to admit that he ever made a mull of things, so naturally I was intrigued. But he was dead by the time I got back and I never did discover why he wanted me here, so now I wonder if I’d have been able to save him, had I come home earlier.’
‘Don’t suppose you’ll get to the bottom of things now, not after all this time. If he was bumped off then the blaggards responsible will have been paid and crawled back under a rock long since.’
‘But the person who did the paying will still be around. Perhaps in this very room.’
‘A chilling thought.’
‘Well anyway, if I can be of help…’
‘Thank you.’
Ewan grinned. ‘Now then, no more procrastination. Who was the lovely lady?’
‘Miss Sophia Kennard. She and her sister are neighbours of ours in Hampshire.’
‘Ah, that would explain why the duchess kept scowling at you. I have heard rumours about her sister running wild with Andrew.’
‘I thought you’d been buried in Scotland, beyond gossip.’
‘We are not savages, and news of society’s indiscretions finds its way to us eventually. Careful, Ross, beneath that lovely façade she’s probably as ruthless as her sister and out to trap you.’
‘Thanks for the warning.’
Ross walked away, only to be confronted by Emily, who had tidied herself up and smiled at him.
‘Who was that gentleman you were just speaking with?’
Ross told her. ‘He’s been with his family in Scotland these past few years, he tells me, which is perhaps why you don’t know him.’
‘I am sure I’ve seen him before, fairly recently in Hampshire. I was with Andrew and I saw a look of recognition pass between them, but when I asked Andrew who he was, he claimed not to know him.’
Warning bells jangled inside Ross’s head. ‘Are you sure it was him?’
‘Fairly sure. He’s quite distinctive.’
Ross excused himself from Emily’s clutches and shortly thereafter took his leave, vaguely disturbed by the conversation with Ewan that in retrospect had felt contrived. He wondered why his friend had been so determined to extract Sophia’s name from him. It seemed reasonable to assume that if he’d picked up gossip about Ross dancing with her, then he would have also learned her name, or could have done so easily enough. And yet he had forced Ross to reveal her identity.
He was more disturbed still by Emily’s conviction that she had seen him in Hampshire and that he and Andrew had cut one another. Maria had mentioned a tall man, a stranger, keeping to the shadows at the fights. A man whom she thought could be the instigator. Ewan was short of funds and fiercely loyal to his family. He would despise the idea of the McIntyre estate passing into the hands of the receivers and would be determined to avoid that situation by whatever means necessary. He had always got away with behaving outrageously through a combination of charm and popularity. A lateral thinker, willing to take risks, as he himself had just pointed out, usually came out on the winning side. Could it be…?
Ross shook his head to dislodge such disloyal thoughts as he walked briskly home, ever alert to the possibility of attack but feeling safe enough since it was comparatively early and the streets were still crowded with carriages and men like him on foot, making their way, not always steadily, from one social event to another.
‘She met with a man,’ Tanner said, arriving home close on Ross’s heels and rubbing his hands together to kickstart his circulation. ‘Couldn’t see his face. They hid themselves away behind a row of carriages and talked animatedly for quite a while. There was a lot of gesticulating on her part and placatory gestures on his. I took myself off, so I have no idea quite how long they engaged in conversation and waited in the place where I lost him before. He eventually came back but I still didn’t get a look at his face.’
‘Tell me you followed him and know where he resides.’
‘I did and I do.’
Ross slapped Tanner’s shoulder, then poured them both substantial measures of brandy. ‘Good man! We’re getting somewhere at last.’
‘You don’t seem too upset to discover that Emily is possibly in league with Andrew’s killer. You know what it means, of course.’
Ross was more upset than he was prepared to admit, but not for the reasons Tanner supposed. ‘That she colluded wit
h Greenacre to have him done away with.’ Ross paced the length of the room with glass in hand, rubbing his chin contemplatively. ‘I don’t have much time or respect for Emily, but did hope that wouldn’t prove to be the case. Even so, I can’t say that I’m too surprised.’
‘What will you do about her if it’s true?’
‘That is an excellent question. I have the future of my nieces to consider, but at the same time, Emily cannot be allowed to get away with murder.’
‘If indeed she is guilty. There’s Maria Kennard’s story to take into account. I for one think it just as likely that she was desperate enough to try and pass off her husband’s bastard son as her own issue, in which case, she would definitely want Andrew to remain alive, at least until after the birth.’
Ross nodded. ‘We are in agreement on that score.’ He threw the rest of his brandy down his throat and sighed. ‘Anyway, we won’t know the truth until we speak with Greenacre, which we will do tomorrow.’ He glanced at the clock as it struck two. ‘Or should I say today.’
‘You have your lawyer calling in the morning.’
‘Damn. I’d forgotten. I’ve already put him off twice so I will have to keep the engagement and Greenacre will have to wait until later in the day.’ He put his glass aside. ‘I’m for my bed.’
Ross attended to his ablutions and took to the bed in question, but sleep was a long time coming. His thoughts dwelt upon Sophia, their sojourn on the terrace and his feelings for the spirited chit. He had never encountered quite such a unique female before, which was saying something, given that women of all ages had been attracted to him even before he became a duke. She impressed him perhaps because she wasn’t attempting to impress, and that too was a novelty. But if her sister had colluded to have Andrew murdered then it would drive a wedge between them. How could it not? Her loyalties would be divided every bit as much as his.
He thumped his pillows and let out a long sigh. It was a conundrum, and one that he hadn’t expected to encounter in his quest for justice for a brother whom he hadn’t much liked and had certainly never respected. And if Emily was culpable, the same parameters applied. But he couldn’t back down now. There was more to this business than met the eye. He was now absolutely convinced of it, and his conscience wouldn’t allow him to rest until he got to the bottom of matters.
Whether he would like what he discovered when he got there was open to question.
Sophia left the ball soon after her interlude with Ross, angry for allowing him to distract her and deeply troubled by the situation she found herself involved in. Her instinctive attraction towards Ross made it difficult for her to think coherently, especially when they were alone in intimate situations.
And particularly when he kissed her.
His infectious smile and the manner in which he could so easily make her feel as though she was the most fascinating creature in the world was both compelling and infuriating. She ought not to be so easily taken in when it was possible that Maria had been instrumental in having his brother killed, in which case he would be disgusted and want nothing more to do with her.
She woke with a headache and a fresh sense of determination to discover what Maria really knew about Andrew’s death; convinced there was more than she had thus far revealed. She dressed in an old walking gown of blue twill that would keep her warm and told Phyllis that she would undertake the journey alone.
‘You sure?’
‘Quite sure. She won’t talk freely in front of you because she knows you don’t approve of her behaviour.’
Sophia adjusted the tilt of her hat and examined her reflection in her dressing table mirror. There was something different about her appearance. A newfound awareness that made her look more mature. Whether it was because Ross had awoken something inside of her or because she had finally decided to stand up to her sister she had yet to decide. Either way the next few hours would, she sensed, be defining and if her discoveries resulted in the loss of Ross’s respect then so be it.
‘Aye well, it’s beyond time that you and she had a heart to heart. Just don’t let her dominate proceedings or make you doubt yourself, pet. Unlike her, you have done nothing to denigrate the family name.’
She thought of what she had done, twice now with Ross, and allowed herself a secret smile. ‘I shouldn’t be above two hours, Phyllis.’
‘You’re setting off now?’ Phyllis raised a brow. ‘It isn’t yet nine in the morning. The snow’s stopped but it’s still heavy on the roads. Maria won’t be out of her bed yet. You can be sure about that.’
‘All the better if I catch her unawares.’
‘At last you seem willing to play her at her own game.’ Phyllis grinned. ‘I approve.’
Sophia pulled the curtains aside and peered out at the road. ‘It’s stopped snowing, you’re right about that, but it will have settled in the park,’ she said, thinking wistfully of the toboggan ride that Ross had suggested.
‘I’ll have your aunt’s carriage brought round.’
‘Don’t bother. Have Watkins hail a cab. That will do just as well and save my aunt’s horses from standing about in the cold. Besides, I think my uncle has an engagement this morning. He mentioned something about it last night and will need his carriage himself. He is already too generously inclined. I don’t want to inconvenience him.’
Phyllis tutted. ‘A young woman taking a cab alone. It ain’t seemly.’
‘Just do it please, Phyllis, and stop fussing.’
‘Very well,’ the older woman replied reluctantly. ‘But if you ain’t back within two hours, you can be sure that I shall raise the alarm, and if that results in Maria’s whereabouts becoming common knowledge then it won’t be my fault.’
Chapter Sixteen
‘What are you doing here so early?’ Maria looked up at Sophia from her place on her dressing stool as Peg styled her freshly washed hair. Far from still being in bed, Maria was fully dressed in a gown that Sophia hadn’t seen before. It effectively concealed her swollen belly and showed off far more of her bosom than was respectable at that time of the day; or any time at all for that matter. ‘Did you bring the duke with you?’
Which explained the elaborate clothing and coiffure. Some things never changed. Despite Maria’s fall from grace and the fact that Ross had made his disapproval of her behaviour plainly apparent, such was Maria’s confidence in her ability to charm any man under the age of eighty that she still thought she could gain his approval.
‘Of course not,’ Sophia replied. ‘Are you planning on going out?’ she added mischievously. ‘If so, I would advise a warm pelisse to cover all that exposed flesh. It’s perishing cold outside.’
‘I…I didn’t think you’d come alone.’ Maria showed a rare second of insecurity.
‘You imagined I would bring reinforcements in the shape of Phyllis,’ Sophia replied, deliberately misinterpreting.
‘You know that is not what I meant.’
‘Do I?’
Sophia followed her sister through to the sitting room where a good fire was burning, helping to offset the musty smell in the neglected cottage. She removed her pelisse and gloves and sat across from Maria, resigned to the fact that her sister’s pinched expression heralded the onset of a lecture that would highlight Sophia’s many shortcomings, real or imagined. It happened whenever Sophia exerted herself, somehow displeased her sister, or if Maria didn’t get her own way. Arguing with Maria was an exhausting process. She had been known to sulk for days on end, until Sophia couldn’t stand the fraught atmosphere any longer and apologised for something that wasn’t her fault. Peace would then be restored.
Until the next time.
‘Bring us some hot chocolate and cakes,’ Maria instructed Peg, ‘and then leave us alone.’
‘Why does she remain in your service when you are so abrupt with her?’ Sophia asked as they watched Peg flounce from the room.
‘She is devoted to me. She knows that I suffer terribly with my nerves and that everyone lets me down
.’ She fixed Sophia with a condemning look as she spoke.
‘Do you?’ Sophia raised a brow. ‘Suffer with your nerves, I mean. All these years and this is the first I’ve heard of it.’
‘I keep my ailments from you,’ Maria replied loftily. ‘As the elder sister, it is my duty to protect you, not burden you with my problems.’
‘Of course, that would be it.’ Sophia wanted to point out that she hadn’t made a terribly good job of protecting her own interests, much less Sophia’s, but was determined not to be the one to provoke the fight that her sister wouldn’t need any help to instigate.
Peg returned with the refreshments. ‘Don’t get yourself worked up,’ she chided, slamming the tray down. ‘’Tain’t good for a woman in your condition.’
Peg sent Sophia a castigating look, as though suspecting her of being the one spoiling for a fight, and left the room again, shutting the door with a loud clatter of the latch. Determined not to break the heavy silence once they were alone again, Sophia sipped at her drink and watched as Maria consumed the lion’s share of the cake.
‘You wanted to see me,’ Sophia prompted when Maria finally wiped her fingers on her napkin and let out a soft burp. ‘What about?’
‘About family loyalty,’ Maria replied, leaning forward and screwing up her features in a gesture that failed to disguise her envy. ‘You should not have brought the duke here yesterday, no matter what threats he levelled. He cannot be trusted to keep particulars of my condition to himself, and then where will I be? But of course, you put your own selfish interests first and didn’t stop to think how embarrassed I would be.’
Sophia didn’t bother to defend herself. She knew that if she attempted it, Maria would find a way to turn the difference of opinions into a criticism of Sophia’s behaviour. Her selfish sister would only hear what she wanted to hear, and nothing less than a fulsome apology on Sophia’s part would satisfy her, but Maria was about to discover that Sophia had grown tired of always backing down. She would not be apologising about anything. Instead, she stood and gathered up her reticule.
A Duke in Turmoil: Dangerous Dukes Vol 9 Page 20