Aunt Lucy, ‘Lady Rothley,’ and nodded unsmilingly at Matthew, ‘Mr Thomas.’ After a brief pause, she added, ‘I am sorry, Cousin Eleanor, but we must leave now if we are not to miss our appointment. I hope you will forgive us.’
Aunt Lucy caught Eleanor’s eye and raised an elegant brow.
‘There is no need to apologise, Ruth,’ Eleanor said. ‘We took a chance in calling upon you uninvited and I understand you cannot tarry if you have an appointment. I hope you will both call upon us soon so we can have a proper catch up with all the news.’
Ruth smiled again and inclined her head. ‘We shall bid you goodbye, then.’ She tugged her arm free from James’s grip and moved to stand by the open door, leaving the visitors no choice but to leave.
‘Well! How very peculiar.’
Lady Rothley shook her head as she gazed back at the firmly closed front door. Eleanor tucked her hand through her aunt’s arm and turned her in the direction of home and Matthew fell into step beside them. The two footmen followed behind.
‘Indeed,’ she said. ‘I thought James very ill at ease and Ruth looked...unwell.’
Probably the result of being married to a man like James Weare. Matthew was wise enough not to voice that opinion. Eleanor had been so happy to see her cousin again. She would be devastated if he did turn out to be responsible for the attacks. Matthew vowed to keep a sharp eye on Cousin James.
His quest to prove his innocence of cheating had not started well. Not one of the other players in that long-ago game were currently in town and Henson—that lying bastard who had accused him of cheating—had long been in exile, forced abroad by unpaid gambling debts. The irony would have amused Matthew had the matter not become—suddenly—of the utmost importance.
He had discovered, however, that his brother Stephen was in town. Two years Matthew’s senior, they had always been closer than either of them had been with their eldest brother, Roger, Viscount Claverley—the heir and their father’s son through and through. Stephen would be Matthew’s next port of call. He would find out exactly how the rest of the family felt about him. Unanswered letters were one thing; if Stephen rejected him face to face...
He switched his attention back to Eleanor’s words.
‘I must talk to James on his own when they come to call and try to discover what is wrong. I cannot believe his coolness is solely due to my inheriting the title, although he did react badly to my mention of the Manor. It makes no sense, though—he has always known he would not inherit, even if Ruth did not. I can only think that she has turned him against me.’
‘He was not happy at our calling in like that, Ellie.’
‘I know, but that does not mean he was behind the fire or the accident.’
‘Don’t forget injuring that girl,’ Matthew said.
Eleanor speared him with a glare. ‘In fact,’ she continued, her nose firmly in the air, ‘if anything, it makes me believe he knows nothing about any of the incidents, for would he not have better concealed his feelings if he were responsible?’
‘I was hoping you would tell your cousin about those incidents,’ Matthew said. ‘I should have liked to see his reaction.’
‘There was no time to discuss anything of note. You saw what he was like. Besides, he already knows of the fire.’ Eleanor’s voice was strained.
Matthew sympathised. He knew how hard it was to accept your own family turning against you.
‘I will tell James about them when he calls upon us. Surely he will now come tomorrow? It is not his fault they had a prior engagement today.’
‘It will do us no harm to be on our guard with him, Ellie,’ Aunt Lucy said, as they crossed over South Audley Street. ‘Mayhap it isn’t about the title after all, but the money? Ashby is a wealthy estate and that house of James’s looks in sad need of refurbishment. Ruth, I noticed, was dressed in the height of fashion and I’ll wager she is a demanding spouse. I almost feel sorry for him—being wed to that sour-faced madam is enough to turn anyone peculiar.’
‘I would not argue with that,’ Matthew said. ‘In fact, I—’ He slammed to a halt. Two gentlemen were strolling along the pavement towards them. His heart pounded in his ears.
Stephen.
‘Is something wrong, Mr Thomas?’ Eleanor asked, stopping and looking back at him.
‘I... I beg your pardon, ladies. I have this minute recalled a matter of the utmost urgency. I regret, but I must attend to it right away. You have the footmen for protection and it is not so very far to Upper Brook Street.’ Stephen and his companion were getting closer. ‘I will call on you very soon, to enquire how you go on. Goodbye.’
He doffed his hat and walked rapidly back the way they had come, angling across the road. He intended to face Stephen. But not here. Not now. Not in front of others and, most particularly, not in front of Eleanor.
‘Well! How very abrupt,’ Aunt Lucy said. ‘I wonder what can have been of such importance?’
‘I do not know,’ Eleanor said, watching as Matthew paused to speak to a stranger on the other side of the road. He pointed back along South Audley Street, then glanced in Eleanor’s direction before disappearing round the corner, back into Hill Street. ‘It cannot matter to us,’ she continued, determined not to reveal any hint of disappointment. ‘Mr Thomas has his business to run, and we, dear Aunt, have a ball to attend.’
They resumed walking and Eleanor recognised, with a lurch of nerves in her stomach, two acquaintances from her come-out. Would they remember her? Would they snub her because of her mother?
Aunt Lucy had no such qualms. ‘Lord Derham,’ she said, smiling up at the taller man of the two. ‘And Mr Damerel...’ she nodded her head at the other ‘...how delightful to see you both.’
The two halted and bowed.
‘Good afternoon, Lady Rothley. It is entirely too long since you have graced us with your presence for the Season,’ Lord Derham said.
‘It is indeed. I am here to chaperon my niece, Lady Ashby. Are you acquainted with his lordship and Mr Damerel, Eleanor, my dear?’
Eleanor smiled at them and dipped a curtsy. ‘We have met, Aunt, but—like you—it is some years since I have been in London. I cannot be so bold as to hope the gentlemen might remember me.’
There was an immediate flurry of protest from the two men, with no hint that either recalled her mother’s scandal.
‘Do you go to the Barringtons’ ball tonight?’ Mr Damerel asked.
Upon being told they would be there, each gentleman immediately engaged Eleanor’s hand for two dances. They parted company and Eleanor and Aunt Lucy continued towards home.
‘I am pleased Mr Damerel has engaged me for the first,’ Eleanor said. ‘It will save me from the lowering prospect of sitting with the chaperons and attempting
