Page 13 of A Duchess of Mystery

However, darling Diccon just smiled. “In a way you’re right, Wyndham. The Rifle Brigade is very new, but that doesn’t mean it’s not good. In fact it’s one of the best. We were at the Battle of Copenhagen and helped capture the Danish fleet to prevent the French getting their hands on it. And our name betrays the fact that we are equipped with the modern Baker Rifle. A wonderfully useful weapon. We’re rightly proud of our green uniforms and our rifles.”

Bella set down her toast. “Rupert was my escort last night to the ball at Bembridge House. He’s been staying here a few days. Such a shame he has to leave today.”

Dora bit her lip. What was Diccon going to think of that statement? They were supposed to be in mourning, and yet Bella was right now wearing green, and she was now confessing to having been out to a ball with an exquisitely handsome gentleman as her escort. Beau Wyndham, no less. A man who was staying in a house where until this morning there had been no master present. That did not look good. Especially not when Dora knew very well that society assumed Wyndham was her lover. Might Diccon have heard these rumors? They weren’t the only ones circulating about Bella, however.

“Was it a pleasant evening?” she asked, with a tinge of desperation.

“As much as a country ball can be,” Bella snapped, with more asperity than she might have intended. She must have guessed at Dora’s own embarrassment.

Diccon, who had fetched himself a plate of Cook’s best kedgeree, raised a laconic eyebrow, but said nothing, a fact which clearly riled Bella, who took a forceful bite of her toast and glared at him.

Dora began to fervently wish she were better at reading people. That something was going on here, she could tell, but what it was escaped her. Telltale sweat began to prickle out down her back and across her forehead. What had Diccon heard about Marcus’s demise? The rumors were rife and he could well have picked them up on his long journey back here. Did he think their household lacking in respect to his cousin, a man he’d hated? Confusion mingled with the anxiety that already occupied Dora’s heart. Surely he must be glad Marcus was dead, dreadful as even thinking those words was.

“Committed army man, are you, then?” Rupert asked.

Richard nodded. “I am, or rather I was. I’ve resigned my commission on my commanding officer’s orders.”

Rupert, with probably as small a morning appetite as she and Bella due to his night of excesses, not to mention the direction the conversation was taking, sipped his coffee. “Been fighting Boney, I take it?”

Richard nodded again, and swallowed a mouthful of the kedgeree. He appeared to be the only one with any appetite at all. “That’s what I was doing in Portugal, until I received a garbled message that I had to return to England.” He waved his fork. “This is fine kedgeree. Do we still have the same cook as when I left, I wonder? I remember Mrs. Burton well for the food she was able to provide to fuel a hungry boy.”

“Mrs. Burton retired to live in one of the estate cottages a few years ago,” Dora said, in a hurry, and glad of the change of subject. “She’s very old now, and arthritic, but I know she’d love to see you if you have time, Diccon. You could ride or walk over there. It’s not far. I could come with you.” Did she sound as desperate as she felt?

He nodded. “And I to see her. I have a lot to do now I’m here, but first I think I must see Marcus’s man of business to make sure all the formalities have been gone through. I’m sure he’ll have papers for me to sign.” He paused. “Would you happen to know who this is? I left so long ago, I have no idea of the way the estate is run, nor who Marcus used for his legal work.”

Bella set down her coffee cup. “I don’t have the least idea. Marcus never allowed me to become involved in business or estate matters.” There was a definite rebellious jut to her jaw. “He said women do not have a head for figures.” She gave a huff at the end of this utterance, a frown settling over her face that implied his opinion was erroneous.

Dora interceded again. “I think he still uses Allsop and Crichton in Newbury. Those were Papa’s men of business, although I think Mr. Allsop senior is no more, and Mr. Crichton has retired. But, as far as I know, others have taken on their mantle. I believe there is a Young Mr. Allsop.”

Dora ignored the hard stare Bella was directing at her. “I know who will be able to tell you for certain. Mr. Sanders will.” Telltale heat crept slowly from her throat up to her cheeks. She looked down at her empty plate. If only she could keep her emotions in check in the way Bella could. “He is, I mean he was, my brother’s land agent. Well, yours now, I suppose.” She could only pray no one had noticed her blush. Although Bella knew already how she felt about Philip, but was sworn to secrecy.

“Then that’s who I shall visit first,” Richard said. “When I’ve eaten my fill of this wonderful kedgeree.” He beamed at his audience of three. “I think I’ll have a second helping. We never ate as well as this on campaign.”