Page 37 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

Ronan’s eyes narrowed.

“You have returned to this.”

““I only postponed the discussion while the constable was present, since I assumed you would object if I asked whether concern for your wife had inspired your new enthusiasm for justice.”

Ronan rested his hand on the desk. “You have constructed an elaborate theory from a single meeting.”

“I have constructed nothing,” Gregory replied. “Still, you might avoid insulting both of us by pretending that this was only about the accusation made against you.”

Ronan was quiet for a long moment. Then he glanced at the paper on his desk and spoke without looking at Gregory.

“She should know that the woman worked for Phillipa’s family.”

Gregory walked towards the door.

“Tell your wife what you learned, and try not to sound as though you are reading from an estate report. She asked for the truth, and you went looking for it. There is no need to make the gesture smaller merely to protect yourself from what it might mean.”

Ronan did not answer.

Gregory opened the door, although he paused before leaving and glanced back towards him.

“For what it is worth,” he said, “I do not think your interest in the investigation makes you foolish. I only think your refusal to admit where it began is becoming less convincing.”

He left before Ronan could respond, and Ronan remained behind the desk, with the folded paper lying untouched before him and the constable’s brief answers offering far less certainty than he had hoped to carry back to Augusta.

Augusta found Sarah in the schoolroom with a book open across her lap, although the child was not reading it, and instead she was tracing the outline of an illustrated castle with the tip of one finger while the afternoon light gathered across the carpet and softened the severe edges of the room.

The governess rose as soon as Augusta entered, and Sarah looked up only after the movement drew her attention away from the page.

“Her Grace has come to spend some time with you,” the governess said, smoothing the front of her dress as she turned towards Sarah. “You will remember your manners, and you will answer when she speaks to you.”

Sarah nodded, although her fingers remained curled around the corner of the page.

“I think Lady Sarah and I can manage quite well without instructions,” Augusta said, offering the governess a polite smile before she looked towards the book in Sarah’s lap. “We already survived one story together, and neither of us suffered any lasting harm, although I admit that my reputation as a reader may not have survived her corrections.”

The governess hesitated, then inclined her head.

“I shall be nearby, Your Grace,” she replied. “You need only ring if you require anything.”

“Thank you,” Augusta said, waiting until the woman had left and the door had closed behind her before she turned back towards Sarah. “Now that we are alone, you may tell me whether your governess always warns you to answer people, or whether she believes I am especially difficult to speak to.”

Sarah studied Augusta’s face, and although she appeared to consider the question carefully, she did not answer at once.

“She tells me that when visitors come,” Sarah said at last, lowering her gaze to the book again. “Sometimes I forget to speak when I do not know what I am meant to say.”

“I often know what I am meant to say, and then I decide that I dislike it,” Augusta replied as she crossed the room and selected a chair near the settee. “That creates a different sort of difficulty, although the result may look very similar from the outside.”

Sarah looked at her again.

“Do you forget your manners?”

“I rarely forget them,” Augusta said, arranging her skirts as she sat. “I sometimes ignore them deliberately, which is far worse, and my elder sister would be very disappointed to hear me admit it.”

“Why do you ignore them?”

“Usually when I think something more important ought to be said,” Augusta replied, and then she glanced at the book in Sarah’s lap. “Although I am trying to behave myself this afternoon, so perhaps we should begin with something less dangerous. What are you reading?”

“Cinderella,” Sarah said.