A Duke in Turmoil: Dangerous Dukes Vol 9 Page 3

  ‘You would be better advised to speak with my sister, but you can’t. She’s left the country until the scandal dies down, which is very cowardly of her. I tried to make her understand that she should have the courage to face up to her critics. Hiding is never the answer, but she was having none of it.’

  ‘I need to understand what happened to Andrew. How he came to fall so low.’ Ross raised a hand when he realised how impolite that must have sounded. ‘Excuse me, I don’t mean that his friendship with your sister was demeaning—’

  ‘Well it was, so I shan’t take offence. Maria is sometimes her own worst enemy, but she has her reasons for running wild.’

  The musicians struck up the opening stanza of a waltz and Ross impulsively offered her his hand. ‘May I have the pleasure?’ he asked.

  ‘You may not!’ She snatched her own hand away. ‘Everyone will suppose that I have taken over where my sister left off.’

  ‘I thought you wanted to show society that I don’t hold you to blame for her circumstances,’ he replied in a challenging tone, wondering why it should matter to him so much if she preferred not to dance with him. He concluded that he must finally have taken complete leave of his senses.

  ‘I thought you had forgotten how to dance.’

  ‘A waltz is not dancing,’ he replied, taking advantage of her hesitation and swinging her into his arms, holding her firmly enough to prevent her from wriggling out of them again. He wouldn’t put it past the contrary female to attempt just such a thing. ‘It’s an expression of passion.’

  ‘Or an opportunity to take liberties.’

  ‘It’s the first time I’ve graced this floor this evening,’ he told her. ‘If you are so convinced that society will approve of everything I do, then your reputation is on the point of being restored. Not that it should have been damaged in the first place.’ He glanced down at her profile. ‘Should it?’

  ‘It’s apparent to me that you have forgotten what a hotbed of gossip the ton can be. Its leading lights are capable of destroying a person by simply starting a whispering campaign.’

  ‘And I can well understand some of the matrons wishing to destroy you.’

  ‘Can you?’ She glanced up at him and it was clear that she didn’t have a clue what he meant by that remark.

  ‘Fishing for compliments, Miss Kennard?’

  ‘Perish the thought, your grace.’

  He whirled her around the crowded floor, impressed by the lightness of her step as her feet followed his with effortless grace. Uncomfortably aware of the feel of her curvaceous body beneath his hands, he recklessly used the excuse of the crowded floor to hold her closer than was respectable. Ross sent her a teasing look as he waited for a protest that wasn’t forthcoming, enjoying himself more than seemed prudent, unsurprised when she rose to his challenge and withheld the complaint she would have been justified in voicing.

  ‘You see,’ she said, ‘you haven’t forgotten everything you were taught about dancing.’

  ‘Seemingly not.’

  The dance ended far too soon for Ross’s liking, although a moment’s reflection brought him to his senses, reminding him that it was probably just as well. He raised her from her curtsey, admiring the bloom the dance had brought to her cheeks and enjoying the sight of her bosom rising and falling as she struggled to regain her breath.

  ‘I really do need to speak with you in private about our respective siblings,’ he said, as he conducted her to the side of the room. ‘May I call upon you?’

  ‘Heavens, no! That will undo all the good we have achieved here this evening.’ She allowed herself a slight pause, tapping the fingers of one gloved hand absently against her full lips in a disconcerting and distracting manner that caused Ross’s mind to take a highly inappropriate detour. Was she being intentionally provocative? He was unable to decide. ‘I walk in the park in the early mornings. Meet me there tomorrow, if you like. Oh, don’t worry, no one else would be seen dead out and about at that time of day. It simply isn’t fashionable. We will have the place more or less to ourselves. Do you know the Queen Anne Gate entrance?’

  ‘I will find it.’

  ‘Then I shall see you there at ten in the morning.’ She glanced up at him. ‘Is that too early for you?’

  ‘Not in the least.’ He raised her gloved hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. ‘Until tomorrow then.’

  ‘You are leaving?’

  He glanced at the chaperones, who still had him directly in their sights, his dancing with Miss Kennard clearly having reinforced their determination, and nodded. ‘I think it best. Shall I return you to your aunt and uncle?’

  ‘No, that won’t be necessary. Here’s Fanny.’ She smiled as her friend joined her, Mark looming at her side. ‘Good night, your grace,’ Miss Kennard said, dipping a curtsey.

  Ross and Mark took their leave of the ladies, sought out their hostess, conveyed their thanks and left the house together.

  ‘What did you make of Miss Kennard?’ Mark asked as they walked away.

  ‘Stimulating.’

  Mark chuckled. ‘I don’t doubt it. Her sister is also a vision, but I hear tell that is the only similarity between them. I’m glad you danced with her, Ross. You’ve restored her reputation.’

  ‘So she told me.’

  ‘Are we going on somewhere?’

  ‘Lord no, I’m for my bed.’ Ross yawned. ‘I find panning all day for gold less exhausting than this sort of carry on.’

  Mark chuckled. ‘It takes some getting used to, I’ll grant you.’ The two men shook hands on the corner of Park Lane. ‘I shall see you tomorrow, I trust.’

  Ross assured him that he would, and made his way briskly to the rooms he’d rented in Brook Street. The Ellwood family home in London had been sold in Ross’s father’s time. He was now in a position to purchase a suitable property in central London once again, should he consider it necessary. Emily had dropped heavy hints in that regard, insisting that it was vital for Ross to maintain standards. Ha! She might have instilled that discipline in Andrew and listened to her own advice, since the pair of them had run through a substantial sum in a very short space of time. Ross knew very well that if he purchased a new London home, Emily would immediately install herself in it and run up yet more extravagant debts. He would welcome being rid of her from Ravenscroft, but not at any price.

  Ross, alert to the possibility of attack as he continued to walk home, reasoned that he did now have at least some responsibility for his brother’s widow, but his largesse was not limitless. He had already cut off her lines of credit, having been obliged to settle several excessive and long overdue accounts upon his return to England. Emily must learn the meaning of economy. He had made it crystal clear to her that he wouldn’t bail her out again and was immune to her machinations.

  His thoughts turned to Miss Kennard as he reached home without having to fight off any would-be attackers. His tough stance had deterred the miserable creatures he’d seen lurking in the shadows, leaving them to turn their attention to less formidable targets.

  ‘How was the ball?’ his man, Tanner, asked him when he reached his rooms.

  ‘Exhausting,’ Ross replied, shrugging out of his coat and helping himself to a hefty measure of brandy from the decanter on the sideboard. ‘Why do they do it?’

  ‘Well, that’s a question.’

  Tanner had accompanied Ross to Carolina, and understood him arguably better than he understood himself. He was loyal to a fault and knew of all Ross’s secrets. He had been a footman at Ravenscroft when Ross had been a lad. Their relationship had developed over the years, and nowadays they were friends more than master and servant and Tanner spoke his mind without fear of disfavour.

  ‘I assume you met the delectable Sophia Kennard,’ Tanner remarked. ‘What did you make of her?’

  ‘A vision, and not at all what I expected.’

  Tanner chuckled. ‘I had heard that she’s in great demand, despite being more or less penniless. Seems she rec
eived several eligible offers when she came out last season but rejected them all.’

  ‘Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,’ Ross replied, relaxing in a chair in front of the fire as he savoured his drink, and memories of that waltz.

  ‘So what now?’

  Ross explained how Sophia had approached him, keen to distance herself from her sister’s behaviour. ‘She claims her sister has gone abroad to avoid the scandal she’s created,’ he finished by remarking.

  ‘More likely she’s increasing,’ Tanner said drolly.

  ‘The same possibility occurred to me.’ Ross finished his drink and stretched his arms above his head, stifling a yawn. ‘I’m meeting Miss Kennard in the park in the morning.’

  ‘Are you now?’ Tanner grinned broadly.

  ‘I have no intention of following Andrew’s example,’ Ross said, an edge to his voice. ‘But I do need to find out what she knows about her sister’s involvement in Andrew’s demise.’

  ‘She’s hardly likely to tell you that.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Ross allowed himself a rare smile. ‘I can be very persuasive. Besides, she’s as anxious as I am to get to the bottom of the matter, I sensed.’

  Tanner rubbed his chin. ‘Sensed it, did you?’ he asked, chuckling.

  ‘I dare say she’ll have a maid with her, so you’d best come too. See what you can get out of the maid. For reasons that escape me, the fairer sex seem to think there’s something enticing about you.’

  ‘Ah, well now, that would be the Gaelic charm,’ Tanner replied, emphasising his Irish accent.

  Ross rolled his eyes. ‘Undoubtedly.’

  ‘A note came from Ravenscroft,’ Tanner said, sobering.

  ‘Emily again.’ Ross sighed. ‘What does she want this time?’

  ‘What does she always want, other than you dancing to her tune and preferably doing it in her bed?’ Tanner handed Ross the unopened letter. ‘Money, I assume.’

  Ross was tempted to throw the letter in the fire but instead put it aside. ‘I’ll read it tomorrow,’ he said, heading for his bedchamber.

  Chapter Three

  The ball lost its appeal after the duke had left. Sophia wondered how a room crammed full of bodies could suddenly feel so empty, the social rigmarole pointless. Surrounded by people keen to engage her attention, Sophia adjured herself to remain resolute. She had cleared the first hurdle with greater ease than anticipated, and thanks to the duke’s pointed attentions her family’s reputation was secure—at least for the time being.

  Why had he been so keen to single her out? What did he really want from her? Those were questions that ought to have occurred to her before now, but she had found it very difficult to think with her customary single-minded clarity when held captive by dark, smouldering eyes that made her feel as though their owner could see directly into her soul. Sophia found that she was still suffering from the aftereffects of the razor sharp awareness that had drawn her in, almost against her will.

  Almost.

  Ross Ellwood might at first acquaintance appear to be more respectable than his debauched brother. In fairness, it would be hard for him not to be. Sophia had neither liked nor approved of Andrew Ellwood’s moral character. Even so, the new duke was clearly intent upon discovering what had happened to Andrew and bringing whoever was responsible for his death to the attention of the hangman. If he imagined that Maria had had any part in it his revenge would, she suspected, be swift and brutal.

  Sophia wished that she could be more certain of her sister’s innocence, if only to ensure that the Kennards as a family did not become the focus of the duke’s wrathful revenge. She shuddered at the possibility, despite the stuffy room. Ross Ellwood, she sensed, might be very disinclined to be a duke, but he possessed a fierce sense of familial loyalty, and unlike the mild-mannered magistrate who had investigated the murder and who had been easily intimidated, he had both the means and the authority to keep probing until he arrived at the truth.

  Sophia found herself surrounded by a large crush of people, making her feel claustrophobic and craving fresh air. There were gentlemen anxious to renew their acquaintance with her and more than one gadfly keen to find out what she and the duke had discussed. She endured with disinterest the accusatory glowers being directed her way by several ladies, all of whom had presumably tried to attract the new duke’s attention and blamed her for monopolising his company. Sophia resisted the urge to point out that their efforts would have been futile. The duke had not attended in the expectation of dancing the night away.

  Sophia herself danced twice more and then made her excuses. It was easy to persuade her aunt to return home, and Sophia delighted in seeing the put-upon older lady leaving with her head held high, the haunted look at the prospect of being ostracised as a result of Maria’s selfish behaviour banished from her eye. Her uncle was ensconced in the card room and would likely remain there for the rest of the night, so they left him to his gambling.

  ‘I am very glad that you managed to speak with the duke.’ Her aunt beamed at Sophia as they made the short journey back to Sloane Street in her uncle’s carriage. ‘And he danced with you too. Only you. No one else. He is very gracious and has saved us all from being shunned by society’s elite. What is he like? Oh, I could see for myself that he is very handsome, as all dukes have a duty to be, but he seemed angry at first, and rather remote. I must confess that he terrified me, but you made him smile. Well, how could you not, when looking upon your beauty would be enough to make any man with half a soul smile?’

  ‘I think he is unhappy to have inherited the dukedom and would have preferred to stay in America, panning for gold and remaining anonymous,’ Sophia replied, when her aunt’s soliloquy came to an end. ‘He appears to be a man who enjoys his own company and has little time for society’s mores.’

  Sophia’s aunt exclaimed over that comment. She and Sophia’s uncle had lived in London their entire lives. Aunt Marion adored the social whirl, which is why Maria’s behaviour had upset her so badly. If she was cut by society’s leading hostesses then she would be bereft, and Sophia would be saddened on her behalf. Only Maria remained immune to the trouble that her selfish disregard for anything other than her own ambitions had caused.

  Her aunt and uncle had been good to Sophia, and it was their welfare that now concerned her. She had barely stopped to concern herself with her own situation. If she was ostracised then she would quietly withdraw from the fray and retire to the family home in Hampshire to live a life of reclusive anonymity, doing precisely as she pleased without having to worry about giving offence or breaking silly rules.

  The idea became more appealing by the minute.

  When they reached home, Sophia went immediately to her chamber and told her maid that they would be walking in the park early the following morning.

  ‘You met the duke then?’ Phyllis smiled as she helped Sophia to disrobe. ‘You look very pleased with yourself, I must say. What’s he like? Is he a savage? Did he frown at you?’ Phyllis tutted. ‘A man of his stature. Mining for gold indeed. Whatever could he have been thinking?’

  ‘He looks a lot like his brother but his character is, I sincerely hope, very different.’ Sophia sat as Phyllis brushed out her hair and then braided it. ‘He seldom smiles and doesn’t seem happy with the change in his circumstances.’

  ‘Ha, some people don’t know they’re born. But still, I suppose his being so different to the old duke is much the same as saying your character isn’t a bit like your sister’s, which it ain’t,’ Phyllis replied with another tut, this time in disapproval at Maria’s conduct, as only a maid of long-standing familiarity would dare to do.

  ‘I suppose so…at least in some respects. Anyway, he wants to talk to me about Maria and I didn’t feel that I could disoblige him, so we have arranged to meet in the park in the morning.’

  Phyllis grinned. ‘I am perfectly sure you did not…feel you could disoblige him, that is.’

  Sophia stood and lifted her arms so t
hat Phyllis could slide her nightgown over her head. ‘I shall need you to accompany me. I am not brazen enough to meet with him alone, even though we are unlikely to be seen together at such an early hour. I shall wear the green and bronze walking gown.’

  ‘The new one.’ Phyllis raised one brow. ‘You are clearly out to impress.’

  ‘I am clearly determined to help the duke get to the bottom of things.’ Sophia resumed her seat on her dressing stool, rested her elbow on the table in front of her and the side of her face in her cupped hand. ‘Despite the duke talking with me for long enough to satisfy society that he doesn’t hold our family accountable for his brother’s death, we’re still not home and dry. Maria is wild and there are always those who would prefer to consider her responsible, simply out of spite. So until we discover the identity of the real culprit…’

  ‘Aye, I see what you mean, pet.’

  ‘Maria and the late duke were kindred spirits in that they both enjoyed being outrageous, leading one another on, but I am convinced that Maria had nothing to do with his death. She assured me that she did not, and for all her faults she has never lied to me as far as I am aware.’

  ‘She’s never been embroiled in a murder before either. That would make a difference. And just like always, she gave you her assurances and then ran away, leaving you to clear up after her.’

  ‘Either way, if the duke is planning to investigate then I fully intend to help him.’

  ‘I’m sure you do, miss.’ Phyllis held up an admonishing hand. ‘But that’s probably not a good idea.’

  ‘I beg to differ.’ Sophia straightened her shoulders and her spine simultaneously. ‘It is as much my business as it is his. But I will tell you this much, if Maria was somehow complicit in the duke’s murder, then I shall not attempt to cover her involvement up. As you rightly say, she has run away from her responsibilities her entire life, and we all have to grow up at some stage.’

  ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,’ Phyllis said, turning down the bedcovers and removing the warming pan. ‘Your sister is a survivor. She will find a way around the accusations, since unlike you she has no conscience. It’s you as will bear the brunt of society’s disapproval.’