up the card and quickly read it, before tucking it into the pocket of her gown as she spoke to her butler. ‘Please show his Lordship into my private parlour, Fuller,’ she instructed briskly. ‘And then return here and show his Grace out.’ Her gaze was challenging as she turned and waited for the butler to leave before looking across the room at Darian.
Darian breathed out his frustration, both with what was obviously Mariah’s dismissal of him and a burning curiosity to know the identity of the man the dismissed butler was even now escorting to Mariah’s private parlour.
Which was utterly ridiculous of him.
He had lived for two and thirty years without having the slightest interest in Mariah Beecham, or any of her friendships, and for him to now feel disgruntled, even jealous, of this other man was ludicrous on his part.
And yet Darian could not deny that was exactly how he now felt.
Just as he knew Mariah was equally as determined that her two male visitors would not meet each other.
‘I believe I am perfectly capable of showing myself out, Mariah,’ Darian informed her harshly.
She blinked. ‘Fuller will return in just a moment.’
‘And I am ready to depart now.’
‘But—’
‘Good day to you, Mariah.’ Darian bowed to her stiffly before crossing the room and stepping out into the cavernous hallway, only to come to an abrupt halt as he saw the identity of Mariah’s caller.
‘Wolfingham!’ Lord Aubrey Maystone turned at the bottom of the staircase to greet him enthusiastically; eyes alight with pleasure as he strode forward to shake Darian warmly by the hand. ‘How fortuitous this is, for you are just the man I wanted to see.’
Darian failed to see how that was possible, when Maystone could not have had any idea that Darian would be at Mariah Beecham’s home this morning.
Or could he?
As Darian knew only too well, from working so closely with the older man for so many years, Maystone was deceptively wily. A man capable of weaving webs within webs and all without losing sight of a single thread of those intricate weavings.
Although Darian seriously doubted that the other man’s role as spymaster was his reason for calling upon Mariah this morning.
Indeed, Mariah’s instruction, for Maystone to be taken to her private parlour, left only one conclusion in regard to Maystone’s presence here this morning: that the older man was indeed the man Mariah was currently intimately involved with and his joviality was now merely a politeness in front of Mariah’s butler.
Mariah had hurriedly followed Wolfingham out into the entrance hall and had arrived just in time to witness Aubrey Maystone warmly greeting and shaking the younger man by the hand. Much, she noted ruefully, to Darian Hunter’s stony-faced displeasure.
No doubt because Wolfingham had now deduced, despite her denials to the contrary, that she was indeed involved in an affair with Aubrey Maystone.
Just as she was sure that Aubrey Mayston’s real reason for calling upon her so unexpectedly this morning was sure to be a matter of some delicacy and no doubt related to her work for the Crown.
In which case, the arrogantly disapproving Darian Hunter would just have to continue to think what he would regarding her relationship with the older man. As, it seemed, he always chose to think the worst of her.
‘Aubrey!’ She greeted the older man with a warm smile as she crossed the hallway to link her arm with his and allowed him to kiss her lightly on the cheek. ‘His Grace was just leaving.’ She turned to look at Wolfingham with coldly challenging eyes.
‘I would prefer him to remain, my dear.’
To Mariah’s surprise it was Aubrey Maystone who answered her softly, rather than the harsh response she had fully expected from Wolfingham regarding her obvious dismissal of him. A frown marred her brow as she turned to give the older man a puzzled glance.
Maystone raised his brows pointedly towards her hovering butler before answering her. ‘Might I suggest you consider ordering us all some refreshment?’
‘Er—of course.’ Mariah was more than a little disconcerted. ‘Bring tea and brandy, if you please, Fuller,’ she instructed distractedly before the three of them turned to enter the gold salon. Mariah was still totally at a loss to understand why Aubrey Maystone should have deliberately delayed Wolfingham’s departure.
‘What is this all about, Maystone?’ Darian Hunter felt no hesitation in expressing his own impatience with the older man’s request, as he restlessly paced the length of the room once the three of them were alone together with the door closed behind them. A disdainful smile curled his top lip. ‘I trust we are not about to engage in a proprietary claim of ownership on your part, in response to your having discovered my having paid the countess a visit this morning?’
‘Wolfingham!’ the older man snapped reprovingly.
Mariah also gasped at Wolfingham’s deliberate insult. ‘I am not a hunting dog, nor a piece of horseflesh, Wolfingham, to be owned by any man!’
In truth, it had not been Darian’s intention to insult Mariah. He had merely meant to challenge the older man for what he perceived must be Maystone’s displeasure at finding Darian in the home of his mistress.
Darian had not meant to insult Mariah, but he could see by the stiff way that she now held herself, the fierce glitter in her eyes and the two spots of angry colour that had appeared in her otherwise pale cheeks, that was exactly what he had done. ‘I meant you no disrespect—’
‘Did you not?’ she scorned.
Had he?
Darian frowned as he realised that he was the one who felt displeased and unsettled, both at the other man’s arrival and the unmistakable familiarity that he knew existed between Maystone and Mariah.
It was obvious, from the warmth of Mariah’s tone and manner whenever she spoke to the older man, that she liked and approved of Aubrey Maystone. Just as it was equally as obvious, from the coldness of her tone and manner whenever she addressed Darian, that she disliked and disapproved of him intensely.
And he, Darian acknowledged heavily, had done little in their acquaintance so far to dispel or temper those feelings of dislike. The opposite, in fact. ‘I sincerely apologise if I spoke out of turn.’ He bowed stiffly to Mariah before turning to the older man. ‘Perhaps, if you have something you wish to say to me, Maystone, it might be better if we arrange another time and place in which to have that conversation?’
‘I trust you are not considering engaging in another duel, Wolfingham?’ Mariah Beecham scorned.
‘Another duel?’ Lord Maystone looked confused.
‘A misunderstanding on Lady Beecham’s part,’ Darian dismissed coolly; Aubrey Maystone was one of the few people who knew in exactly what manner Darian had received the bullet wound
