Page 19 of Miss Ashbury and the Anatomy of Mending a Heart

He pressed his lips together. Vera and Hamish claimed not to know each other, but what if that was part of the scam? What if his mother was the target, after all, but it was Hamish who was the main player, and Vera was just cast in a supporting role?

“How did you say you two met, again?” He waved his hand toward Hamish and Vera.

“We just met recently,” Hamish said, slicing into his fish. “The first time Jacqueline invited me to dinner.”

Stephen raised his eyebrows. Oh, it was Jacqueline, was it?

Hamish quirked a smile as if he’d read Stephen’s mind and was replying, Yes, what of it?

Benjamin asked Hamish a question, drawing both the man’s and his mother’s attention away.

Stephen leaned toward Vera and murmured, “When’s the last time you and the duchess spoke? If you’re so close with her?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I spoke with her last week.” Vera flushed as if he’d caught her in a lie, but her chin jutted and she continued lowly, “I don’t know why you’re determined to find fault with me. I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve no ill intent toward you or your family.”

“If that’s the truth, then why won’t you answer simple questions about where you’re from, who your family is?”

“I have. I’ve told you—my family is in London. My parents are Lord and Lady Ashbury⁠—”

“And you’ve been gone from home for how long? Months, by my estimation. Why haven’t you returned home to your parents? You aren’t part of a grouping of young people, where your absence might be explained by general merrymaking. No—there’s a reason you’re still here, and I aim to find out what it is.”

Her eyes were large, pleading. “It’s nothing, I assure you. I’m here as a guest of your mother’s because I’m fond of her and your brother.”

Her fingers trembled as she picked up her knife, and he marked it as evidence of a falsehood.

“Perhaps I’m mistaken.”

“That’s what I’m telling you.” She canted her voice low, to keep it private.

“Then you aren’t staying with my mother because she’s offering you free room and board?”

“What?” Her eyes were round.

The sight of her distress panged his conscience, but he soldiered on, determined to find the truth. “It seems to me that you’ve been moving from grand house to grand house as a guest. Is there any reason for it? One might think you have naught but charity to live on.”

Vera blinked, her mouth agape. She set down her fork.

He leaned forward, trying to capitalize on her being flummoxed—perhaps she’d let something slip. “Who are you exchanging letters with, in the village?”

“Stephen.” His mother’s voice was sharp. “What are you two talking about down there?”

“Correspondence, Mother. How unreliable the post is these days.”

He sipped his wine to settle his stomach. He wasn’t sure if he was sickened or satisfied at the look of alarm that had crossed the lovely Miss Ashbury’s features when he’d mentioned the letters. He didn’t relish her fear, but there was something she was hiding—he was certain of it.

“I cannot help but agree with you,” the baroness said, her voice still terse. “After all, the last letter I had from you stated that you’d bring a wife home. Was she lost in the post, as well?”

His eyes crawled up to meet his mother’s narrow-eyed stare. This was why he had to find out what Vera was hiding. Because his mother cared so much for the lady that she was protective of her, even in defiance of her own son.

“It’s as I told you, Mother. She and I parted ways. Amicably.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “That’s right. Silly me—sometimes I forget that once a person has answered a question, it’s rude to ask it of them again.”

Though he doubted his mother had been able to hear what was said, apparently his exchange with Vera hadn’t gone unnoted. The baroness turned back to her conversation with Benjamin and Hamish as if she hadn’t just dressed down her eldest son in full hearing of everyone.

“Then tell me something I don’t know about you.” He smiled at Vera, endeavoring to make the expression reach his eyes; it fell far short.

“That won’t be difficult. You haven’t endeavored to get to know me. You’ve only tried to get to know about me.”