about. ‘As you can probably tell, I am not used to entertaining on such a vast scale. Well, any scale at all, to be honest. But, oh, dear me...’ She waved to a footman stationed at the door. ‘Peter, can you go and fetch a little table for Miss Carmichael? I am so sorry,’ she said the moment he’d strolled away. ‘I should have thought to have a table placed here.’
The girl was so uncomfortable, so clearly out of her depth, that even though Horatia had just been mentally berating her for not thinking of providing a table, she started to feel some sympathy for her. Even though that smacked of disloyalty to Lady Elizabeth.
‘I don’t suppose you expected any of your guests to wish to sit behind a curtain,’ she said by way of a compromise.
‘Oh. But I should have known, since the first time I set foot in this room I only lasted five minutes before... I mean, well, that is, how are you finding things at Theakstone Court?’ Miss Underwood spoke in such a flustered manner that Horatia would have assumed, if she didn’t know better, that the girl was even more unused to polite company than she was. ‘It must be so awkward for you, being here at such a difficult time,’ she then continued. ‘Were you very close to your brother? Oh.’ She coloured up again. ‘That is not the kind of question I should have asked, is it? Oh, where is Peter with that table?’ She looked around with an air of desperation.
And Horatia didn’t have the heart to maintain any sort of hostility at all any longer. After all, Lady Elizabeth herself didn’t seem to begrudge Miss Underwood the Duke. ‘I was very, very close to my brother,’ she said, in an attempt to lay to rest one of her hostess’s concerns. ‘And, yes, I do feel a bit awkward here, but then, to be frank, I was not that much less awkward before. In society, that is. In fact, I rarely went about much, even though I live in London.’
Now it was her cheeks that heated. But at least Miss Underwood looked less uncomfortable.
‘Then it was very brave of you to attend.’
‘Loyal, I should have said,’ drawled Lord Devizes, who had somehow managed to make his way across the room without either of the ladies noticing. Both she and Miss Underwood jumped, though she was the only one to spill tea down the front of her gown. Fortunately, since it was black, the stain would hardly show. Which was yet another advantage of not having to wear the fashionably pale colours Aunt Matilda had insisted she wore in the past.
‘You came, primarily,’ Lord Devizes was continuing, ‘to provide support for your disappointed friend, Lady Elizabeth Grey, did you not? Against the woman who stole her intended from beneath her nose.’ He turned to give Miss Underwood a smile that was just about the most disdainful expression she’d ever seen on anyone’s face.
Which made her want to leap to the girl’s defence. ‘It was as much to my advantage as Lady Elizabeth’s. That is,’ she said, belatedly realising that she’d been on the verge of giving too much away, ‘she thought that getting me out of Town might help to, um, lift my spirits.’
‘I can see that she is doing her utmost,’ he said, indicating the sofa on which Lady Elizabeth was sitting with her mother, at the far end of the room, ‘to do so.’
Sarcastic beast.
‘Well, it must be very difficult,’ put in Miss Underwood, ‘to know what to do for Miss Carmichael. I mean, what with her being in mourning, it isn’t as if she can join in all that much with any of the activities we have planned for the entertainment of our guests this week.’
No, but then she hadn’t wanted to do any joining in. She’d wanted to contact Lord Devizes and let him know what she knew, so that he could bring Herbert’s killers to justice. Once she’d shared all the information she had, she’d planned to stay in her room as much as she could, out of the way of all the festivities, and hand the work over to him.
What a fool she was. She should never have assumed that a man, any man, even a man like Lord Devizes would have been better at tackling the active work. When had any man been any better than her at anything?
Except dressing well and being charming, that was, at which both Lord Devizes and Herbert excelled. Which wasn’t surprising, the amount of time they spent gazing at themselves in mirrors. Why, Lord Devizes was doing so now. Though he was standing close enough to hold a conversation with her, he’d also chosen a spot which gave him a clear view to the mirror which hung between her window and the next one along. And was openly checking out the set of his neckcloth.
‘You were involved in the planning of the entertainment, were you?’ Lord Devizes raised one of his eyebrows in mock surprise at Miss Underwood.
‘I... Well, no, it was more my aunt, as I expect you know, but...’
‘Well, I certainly knew that it could not have been His Grace,’ he said, apparently satisfied with his appearance and turning to direct a sardonic smile in Miss Underwood’s direction. ‘Since he cares nothing for anybody’s pleasure but his own.’
Miss Underwood gasped. ‘That is not true. He is a truly generous host—’
‘I shall have to take your word for it, having never been in receipt of his hospitality.’
‘What?’ Miss Underwood looked completely taken aback. ‘Has he never...? I mean, I know that there is some bad feeling on your side, but...’
Lord Devizes managed to let Miss Underwood know that she’d seriously offended him by letting his smile slip just the tiniest bit and doing something with his eyes that made them look positively freezing. ‘Bad feeling?’ The tone of his voice matched the iciness of his eyes.
‘Oh, um, I see Peter coming over with the table,’ said Miss Underwood, wrenching her gaze away from Lord Devizes and turning to the footman as though he was her saviour. After flapping about for a minute or so placing it in a position that meant Horatia had both cup and plate comfortably to hand, Miss Underwood scurried off with her footman at her side.
Leaving Horatia alone with Lord Devizes.
‘That was a bit unnecessary,’ she said.
‘Possibly,’ he conceded. ‘But I gathered, from your little demonstration in the chapel earlier, that you were desperate to have private speech with me.’
‘Well, yes, I am, but...’
‘Then why waste the few moments we have in questioning my methods? We probably have two minutes, at most, before somebody comes to break up our tête-à-tête. Here,’ he said, holding out the Bible she’d been worrying about. ‘My pretext for approaching you.’
Gone was his fatuous smile and the lazy droop to his eyes. Even his voice had changed. Now she could see the man her brother had worked with. The man whom very few people ever saw when they were in the presence of Lord Devizes.
‘What is so important that you needed to accost me in that fashion?’ he said, in a tone of voice that finally persuaded her that he could really have run the kind of organisation Herbert swore they’d been involved in. ‘Money, is it? I know Herbert supported you.’
‘He did not!’ She was fortunate enough to have a small competence of her own. Along with Aunt Matilda’s jointure, the two ladies managed to rub along in their little house very comfortably, in a financial sense, at least. ‘And if I was in that sort of difficulty, do you really suppose I would apply to you for help?’
‘Then the sketch you tucked in the
