Bridget sat head in hands at her writing desk, praying with all her might that she was wrong. If she wasn’t, then two of the most well-known and respected families of thetonwere about to become the center of the biggest scandal of the year.
And all over a stupid card game.
Chapter Fifteen
When the Vatican next called for prospective saints, Stephen was going to put Lady Alice Steele’s name up for consideration. She never said no whenever he asked her to mind Toby. Overnight stays at Harry and Alice’s house were so regular, that the young boy had his own dedicated room.
With Toby yet again sleeping at number 16 Grosvenor Street, Stephen was able to make his way over to Bridget’s house a little after dawn. Her note had left him shaken. The naked pictures of Lady Linton were one thing, but the mere thought that Kitty Steele could possibly be the blackmailer had thrown him.
The pensive mood he was in as he stepped into Bridget’s drawing room was in stark contrast to that which he had been enjoying when he left the previous evening. The memory of holding Bridget in his arms while he kissed her was now replaced by fear.
He closed the door behind him, and Bridget hurried into his embrace. They shared a brief, comforting kiss before she pulled away. The disappointment which came with the loss of her touch took him by surprise.
His fingers itched to stroke her soft hair, to brush against the warm skin of her rosy cheeks the same as they had done the previous night.
“Thank you for coming. I didn’t know what to do, but I just couldn’t wait until later in the morning to talk to you,” she said.
“You were right to send for me. We have to move expeditiously on any clues that come our way,” he replied.
She pointed toward the occasional table which sat in between the two sofas. There was a piece of paper on the top. “Look at it and tell me if I am wrong in what I am thinking.”
Stephen took a seat and picked up the paper. His brows knitted as he took in the detailed sketch of Lady Linton. While it was not something he would ever have expected to see, he had to hand it to the artist—they were skilled with a pen and ink.
“Turn it over and read the back.”
He did as Bridget asked, and his heart immediately sank. Lady Kitty Steele suddenly went from the bottom of the list of suspects, all the way to the top. She had plenty of motive. She had the means and, of course, knowing Lady Linton as well as she did, she had the opportunity.
He gritted his teeth, holding back a long string of expletives.
It was ironic that Kitty’s son, Harry, was the member of the rogues of the road who had the most experience in handling scandals. Before his marriage to Alice, he had made a nice living out of managing other people’s missteps.
What will he do if it’s his mother who is involved?
“I know Lady Steele and my mother are good friends. I would hate to end their relationship over this, but the evidence against the duchess is compelling,” said Bridget.
Stephen had known the Duchess of Redditch since he was a boy. She had never shown the slightest inkling of having a spiteful bone in her body. If there was anyone, he could trust to give an honest answer, it was Kitty.
Please don’t let me be wrong about her. It would kill Harry.
“Bridget, please go and get your hat and cloak. I think it is time we paid a visit to Redditch House. If the duchess is the blackmailer, I would prefer that we confront her in private. If there is going to be damage, we need to do all we can to mitigate it. Can you just imagine the almighty row that will flare up if this becomes public?”
Not to mention that Harry would most certainly never forgive Stephen if he threw Kitty to the wolves.
Chapter Sixteen
The Duchess of Redditch set the sketch of Lady Linton on the table and sat back in her chair. Placing her hands together, she considered both Bridget and Stephen over steepled fingers. She didn’t seem the least bit fazed in having discovered that she was on the list of possible blackmailers. “I can fully understand why you might think me the villain. But I can assure you I am not. In fact, I’m the one who referred Tristan to you, Stephen.”
Bridget let out a large sigh of relief. They may not have uncovered ‘N’, but at least her mother’s relationship with the duchess remained intact. “I am so sorry for all of this.”
Kitty nodded. “So am I. Your mother has been cheating me at cribbage for years—so long that it has become somewhat of a private joke between us. She does make good on the money each Christmas. I think she sees it as her way of recalibrating the clocks on an annual basis.”
“Not exactly how one should treat their closest and most trusted friends,” observed Stephen.
The duchess raised an eyebrow. “Tell that to the Duke of Monsale the next time he takes a large cut out of the proceeds of one of your jobs. At least Lady Linton is honest with me about her little game.”
Bridget flinched at the remark, but Stephen merely studied the cuffs of his jacket sleeves. She had heard rumors of how, since he had taken on the title, Andrew McNeal had transformed the previously near bankrupt Duchy of Monsale into one of the wealthiest in all of England. The specifics as to how he had managed this accomplishment were by all accounts a tightly held secret.
But these people appear to know. Curious.
