Page 94 of Never Beguile a Duke
As they entered the parlor, Miss Braddock said, “You should have rescued Ernest from that cacophonous concert as well.”
“Your brother added numerous obstacles to my aim since he discovered our engagement.” Lennox lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to her fingers. “Allow me a moment of revenge.”
“If your focus wasn’t seduction, he’d be more agreeable,” she replied as Lennox escorted her to the sofa across from Mrs. Webb and her daughter.
“Untrue,” he replied, releasing Miss Braddock’s hand when she sank onto a cushion. “You are Mr. Braddock’s only remaining, unmarried sister, and he has no other distraction to ease the disquiet of his rampant mind.”
Roxburghe snickered. “Are you weary of the beatings you keep receiving?”
“It’s a delicate situation,” Lennox snapped, whipping around and glowering at Roxburghe. “If I trounce Mr. Braddock, the action will upset my fiancée.”
“Your Grace?” Mr. Aylett, his arms laden with unopened wine bottles, hovered in the doorway. “The Duke of Lennox said you needed my immediate assistance.”
Silas crossed the room, glanced into the hallway, and drew Mr. Aylett into the parlor. “What I’m about to share with you isn’t common knowledge. However, it will be soon enough. Before I reveal this secret, I must ask a question first.”
“Of course.” Mr. Aylett nodded and set the bottles on a nearby table. “What query have you for me?”
“Did you receive notice from any servant that an uninvited visitor was lurking about the grounds,” Silas glanced down at Juliette when she wrapped her fingers around his hand, “or hiding inside the residence?”
Mr. Aylett frowned, and his gaze slid around the room. “Are you concerned about a thief?”
“No,” replied Silas, but he didn’t elaborate for fear of influencing Mr. Aylett’s answer.
“I received a handful of complaints regarding Mr. Hollingsworth’s behavior this morning.” Mr. Aylett’s face pinched, the only indication of his discomfort with speaking ill of a guest. “However, as the man is no longer a visitor, I felt no need to share them with you.”
Mansfield appeared on the other side of Juliette. “Did the staff witness his expulsion?”
“Mr. Hollingsworth’s drunken antics caused quite a scene this morning.” A slight frown crossed Mr. Aylett’s face. “He drew a significant crowd; I’m surprised the incident didn’t wake you.”
“What if that was his purpose?” Mansfield murmured, ambling toward the large window and staring out at the lightly falling snow.
“His purpose?” Silas, with Juliette still attached to his hand, followed. “Mr. Hollingsworth requested the opportunity to propose marriage again to Miss Fernsby-Webb.”
“Knowing that Miss Fernsby-Webb had yet to respond to his written request, why would he press the subject? Would you?” Shifting his gaze, Mansfield fixed Silas with a dark stare and waited as though expecting Silas to comprehend some great realization.
“No,” Silas replied, giving Juliette’s hand a comforting squeeze. “However, I am not Mr. Hollingsworth. Are you accusing him of being a diversion meant to occupy the house while Mr. Curtis crept upstairs and left the missive for Miss Webb? That’s quite imaginative.”
“I’m confused about one thing.” Mansfield sank onto the long, low table separating the two sofas and locked his dark eyes on Mrs. Webb. “If the letter was addressed to Roxburghe’s fiancée, why would Miss Fernsby-Webb think the request was for herself?”
“There was no name on the missive,” Mrs. Webb replied, not quite lifting her eyes to his probing gaze.
“That revelation doesn’t answer my question.”
After a long moment, Roxburghe cleared his throat. “Apparently, Miss Fernsby-Webb and her mother were aware that Miss Webb resided in a different location this morning.”
“Which location?” Mansfield asked, revealing the ghost of a smile as he raised his head.
“That information is unimportant,” Roxburghe growled, a hint of light red crawling into his face. “Wouldn’t you prefer to know who Miss Fernsby-Webb thought herself to be meeting?”
“The Duke of Beaufort,” Mrs. Webb said, nodding toward Silas.
Mansfield twisted around, the smile on his face stretching into an evil grin. “How intriguing…”
“This solves nothing.” Silas folded his arms. “Unless you have a helpful suggestion, stop antagonizing Roxburghe and me.”
“First,”—Mansfield raised one long finger—“we’re going to visit this subject again once we rescue Miss Fernsby-Webb. And second, I suggest speaking with the Hills. As the only other people to have associated with Mr. Curtis, aside from Mrs. Webb, they may be able to provide a hint regarding his current lodgings.”
“I’ll go with you, Beaufort.” Roxburghe cracked his knuckles. “I wager you regret preventing me from trouncing Mr. Hollingsworth earlier this morning.”
