“No, Esme, the best I can hope for is that people will realize I’m not like my father, that I can be trusted and am an honorable man. And perhaps an article in the newspaper that will bring clients in need of sleuthing skills my way. A bit of positive renown associated with my name wouldn’t hurt.”
Having walked over the grounds until theywere familiar with the area, they headed back toward the manor. Throughout the morning guests had been arriving. He was rather dreading seeing some of the fellows with whom he’d once played cards or visited at the clubs. He was determined to act as though their refusal to have anything to do with him after his father’s arrest hadn’t been an unexpected shock that had sent him reeling for a time. The swiftness with which people had turned against him had astounded him, not that he blamed them, at least not deep down. They couldn’t risk being suspected of having any sympathy for someone who had wished harm to the monarch. He’d been arrested, questioned, suspected, and that made associating with him a risk that no one was willing to take.
Griff had gained his revenge by snubbing them or charging them a fortune to be members of his exclusive club. When it came to entertainments, they were quick to forget how unfair they’d been to the duke’s spare. Marcus doubted they would be as forgiving toward the duke’s heir.
Chapter 22
As the day had progressed toward evening, more carriages began arriving at a steady clip until a line of vehicles filled the drive leading to the manor house. It was a lovely day. The air was crisp with the first hint of autumn. People gathered in the gardens for a bit of refreshment and a chance to visit before night and the ball approached. And to have their curiosity satisfied. Not only about the new heir to Glasford, but also the former heir to Wolfford.
Esme had planned to take advantage of this opportunity to speak with the wives and daughters of the various lords, to ingratiate herself to a few in hopes of possibly learning something she hadn’t known regarding Wolfford or his friends. She had been trained to mimic those around her, to appear to belong. She was comfortable doing so.But as she wandered through the gathering striving to determine who might be a fountain of information, some of which might prove useful, she couldn’t help thinking that one of the recent debutantes or brides might have made the perfect wife for the Wolfford heir. And she couldn’t help wondering if one of them had enjoyed a picnic with him the summer before.
Not wanting to offend the Duke and Duchess of Glasford, the guests welcomed their daughter-in-law, Althea. Not wanting to offend Althea, no one gave a cut direct to either of her brothers. Esme noticed a couple of ladies shyly approaching Marcus with wistful smiles, and it occurred to her that like Griff, Marcus could possibly land himself a lord’s daughter when all this was behind him. Or perhaps even if it never was. It was obvious that he’d been liked, sought-after then, sought-after now—even if he was presently believed to be married.
It appeared she’d also been correct that no one recognized or remembered her as the duke’s mistress. At least not so far. But then she wasn’t brazenly strutting about or striving to draw attention to herself. She was the demure and only recently wedded wife to a man who should have been duke.
She thought of their earlier conversation when he’d shared how he’d been busy preparing to be duke rather than engaging in other pursuits. He had been pursuing his passions, and they hadbeen precisely what the heir to a dukedom should care about. The future of what he would inherit. How she longed for him to have what he’d once been passionate about.
She spoke with one lady about roses, another about her love for tulips. She complimented frocks, asked advice on hiring servants, and discussed books. Being a voracious reader, she was able to contribute to any topic without becoming flustered. She was skilled at directing conversations away from herself. People loved to talk about themselves, and she gave them the opportunity to do just that. So it was that she learned Lady Aubrey was incredibly grateful to be back in Britain after more than a year in France.
“The invitation we received to this affair finally prompted Aubrey to return,” she confided now.
“France is a beautiful country,” Esme said. She’d once spent a few days along the coast.
“I especially love the wine,” the countess said. “But watching the vines grow is so tedious.”
“Were you at a vineyard?”
“Oh, yes, did I not say? Aubrey inherited one from a distant uncle. He’s become rather obsessed with it. Never wanted to leave, but neither was he willing to give up an opportunity to see the Queen. He’d like nothing more than for his wines to be served at the palace.”
It was some time later as she was glancing around that she felt the large, warm hand land against the small of her back and smiled up at herhusband.
“You should look up at me a bit more adoringly,” he teased. “After all, I swept you off your feet the moment we met.”
She arched a brow. “You did?”
“Mmm.”
“Is that what you’ve been telling people?”
“We’re supposed to stick as close to the truth as possible, aren’t we?”
“You were insufferable that first night.”
Leaning down slightly, he pressed his warm lips against her temple. “And I’ve regretted it ever since.”
“You shouldn’t. I was fairly insufferable myself.”
“I hope the gown you’re wearing this evening is red. You’re irresistible in red.”
“I think you find me irresistible in anything I wear.”
“More so out of it.”
With a laugh, she stepped in front of him so she could face him. “Do you always flirt so at affairs such as this?”
One corner of his mouth hitched up. “I suppose I did. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed them. While we’re here on a serious matter, until the Queen arrives, we might as well have a bit of fun.”
“We’re supposed to be on the hunt.”
