Page 71 of The Duke of a Thousand Desires

“Valuable knowledge, indeed.”

“I’ve never accepted their money.”

The livery stablemaster had returned to show Simon a small traveling coach that had been driven into the yard for inspection. “Fast and compact, your grace. Perfect for your needs.”

Simon eyed the dress chariot in rueful silence. The coach boasted gilded handles and globular lamps that resembled glass pumpkins. The windows provided an all-encompassing view of the road.

The stablemaster opened the door with a flourish and motioned inside. “As your grace can see, the panels are fashioned of mahogany and lined in heavy damask. The coachmaker is happy to add a crest and include matching livery in any metal and material you choose.”

Would a gentleman disclose that he sought a spacious carriage in which he and his wife could cherish each other in comfort? That he wished a specific conveyance built so that he would not inadvertently bang his head on the roof in the heat of passion?

“It’s of excellent quality,” Simon conceded. “But I had something more spacious in mind. I have numerous relatives.” That, at least, was a complete truth.

“Ah, yes,” the stablemaster said. “You prefer an equipage with the capacity for sleeping on the road and warming a small meal?” The man nodded. “I’ve an aging cousin who travels with us. She takes up plenty of space with her dogs and such.”

Heaven help him. Aunt Glynnis dozing on Simon’s shoulder was not what he anticipated, but it was a consideration.

“As it happens,” the man continued, “I have on my other premises a carriage that was originally ordered by a royal customer whose ill-health prevented travelling outside London. With a few alterations by our joiners and upholsters, I believe we can craft the perfect vehicle for your grace. May I ask you a few fine points as to the nature of the design?”

By the time Simon finished explaining his specifications to the stable owner, the Irish groom had disappeared. Simon realized he had let an opportunity escape.

He resolved to locate Kieran in the next few days for a lengthier conversation. In a quieter setting, the young servant might be prompted to recall an important detail about the day Susannah died.

Throughout their childhood Susannah had often begged Simon to ride with her in the woods. He had usually been too busy at other sports, fencing, shooting, learning estate matters even at a young age. Their brother had joined the military. And so it seemed that his younger sister had married a man who had ignored her. Had anyone paid her attention?

Her courtship with Bruxton had been subdued, respectable. The earl maintained a rambling estate, a six-mile ride from Simon’s stately villa.

Bruxton had traveled on the country roads that connected the two holdings to woo Susannah. On the rare occasion, Simon had acted as their chaperone. The earl had been enamored with her, smitten, or so Simon had assumed.

Still, she had pleaded quietly to Simon for release from the betrothal. Simon thought he knew better. He wanted to secure her future. What better prospect for his shy well-born sister than another aristocrat who shared Simon’s political persuasions and had never been involved in scandal? Bruxton was young, attractive to boot.

Kieran Healy had been in the background from the start. What part had he played in Susannah’s life? Or perhaps in her death?