Page 6 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
“Veronica,” Evelina said, turning away from her meddlesome mama. “His Grace worked with Robert, did he not? They were friends, surely. Acquaintances, at least.”
Veronica winced. “I am unsure how to label them, but I do sincerely hope they were friends. For Robert was—is—jovial and friendly, and after my father’s death three years ago, I believe he could do with a friend.”
Evelina nodded. “Perhaps the Duke might know of Robert’s whereabouts.”
Veronica’s hope rose. She had already considered such a possibility and now realized it was more realistic than she had thought.
She needed to seek out the Duke at his London residence as soon as she could. He would know her brother’s last whereabouts. A business transaction gone wrong, surely. He would have every bit of information Veronica and her mother would need.
Lady Fernwell laughed happily, startling Veronica from her silence. “Oh, how lovely, the sheet mentions my ball next week!” She cleared her throat.
“All shall be foretold at the dazzling ball that Lady Fernwell shall host to mark the start of the season. It always proves to be a delightful affair.”
Lady Fernwell frowned. “Delightful?” Her tone had a slight pout to it. “Is that all that could be afforded for my grand hosting?”
“Delightful is very good, Mama,” Evelina assured her quickly. “It is not generally good to be mentioned in those gossip sheets. You ought to be thankful that is the only thing it mentions and not some cruel twist of a compliment that is somehow both nice sounding but bad in meaning.” She paused, as if realizing that Veronica and her mother had been mentioned in the sheet. “Veronica, are you quite all right?”
“Indeed,” she answered, a bright smile on her face as she concocted a plan. “In fact, I am better than I have found myself in quite some time.”
“Excellent,” Lady Fernwell said, insinuating herself into their conversation. “How did you find the gossip sheet, I dare ask? Was itriveting?”
“Positively so,” Veronica told her with a beaming smile, quite possibly her first genuine smile in a while.
Evelina merely dismissed her mother, rolling her eyes behind her back. “Mama, you take too much notice of gossip.”
“These gossip sheets to us are what the Bible is to a preacher, dearest,” Lady Fernwell sighed, fanning herself with the piece of paper. “I must know all about theton, especially ahead of my soiree.”
“Mama!” Evelina admonished. “You simply cannot blaspheme in such ways!”
As the two squabbled, Veronica sipped her tea.
I have been struck with an idea, she thought.One that will finally help me find my brother.
Chapter Three
“Imust see His Grace,” Veronica insisted. “I am the sister of the Earl of Grantham. Hemustsee me. Please. It an urgent matter.”
Veronica tugged her cape around herself even tighter. Her carriage awaited, wreathed in darkness. She had paid the driver very well out of funds that were quickly dwindling to take her to Turner Hall at such an hour, and unchaperoned, and she would not let her attempts be in vain.
“I am afraid, Lady Veronica, that the answer remains the same.” The butler, a balding man with an apologetic smile but firm tone, looked down upon her from inside a darkened hallway. “His Grace is quite busy.”
“Please,” Veronica begged. “Please, I must speak with him. I shall not leave until he speaks with me. I do not think His Grace would wish to be the subject of gossip so soon upon returning, now, would he?”
She knew she spoke out of turn, but she was rather desperate. The evening’s darkness hid shadows, and anybody who might watch her was surely invisible to her.
The butler paused before sighing.
“Wait here one moment,” he said and then walked back into the townhouse.
While he was absent, Veronica discreetly took in the simple furnishing of the house—of what she could see. The exterior was a rounded front, alabaster white with small balconies adorning the round walls. Inside the main hall was open and pale with minimal decoration, but it was luxurious nonetheless, with a polished banister on the stairs that led to another wing of the house.
Moments later, Veronica’s interest was cut short. She had begun to lean in, peering at the grand hallway above to where pale white drapes covered windows in such a way that let light in but not too much. In the daytime, this hall would be swathed in warm sunlight.
The butler cleared his throat, and she stood up straight.
“His Grace will see you now,” he announced. “Come this way. Do not touch anything.”
“I would not!” Veronica assured him, slightly offended.
