Page 38 of My Secret Duke
Ivo swallowed back his protests. Charles was right. He tried to think of anyone who resented him enough to ruin him. Although he did his best for the people on his estate and in the village of Portside, there would always be those who believed they were entitled to more. Usually, that showed itself in a few grumbles, or a sour look as Ivo passed by, but more than that…? No names came to him; he needed to talk to Bourne.
Charles spoke in a considered way. “Perhaps it is the same person who informed on the boats crossing the channel from France. Polgarth is in gaol, might he be the one?”
“No, not Polgarth,” Ivo said quickly. “I can’t believe he would do that. He’s always been loyal.” Polgarth knew the risks of his profession, and he knew Ivo would help him and his family to the best of his ability.
“Then what of this new shipmaster? Mystere? Could it be him? He has benefited from the revenue arresting his rivals. What do you know about him?”
Ivo ran a weary hand through his hair. “Not as much as I want to,” he admitted. “I need to speak to Bourne. He knows every smuggler along this coast.”
Charles nodded, and then looked about him. “What did Harrison expect to find here?” he asked, puzzled. “Did he have something in mind, or was he just hoping for a piece of evidence he could use? Or he could just mean to rattle you into doing something reckless.”
Ivo frowned. “I’m never reckless when it comes to my business.”
Charles stared in disbelief. “I’m sorry to disagree, but what of the many wagers you take part in? Some of them—”
“That’s pleasure,” Ivo snapped. “This is business. I am never reckless in business. That is why I have never been arrested.”
Up to now. The words hung over them.
“Well,” said Charles, breaking the moment. “I should start for London.”
Ivo shook his head. “It grows late. Stay here and start afresh in the morning. You never know who you might meet on the roads at night.”
Charles hesitated before he gave a nod. “Thank you.”
“Perhaps we can share a glass of my smuggled brandy,” Ivo added with a wry smile.
Charles smiled back, but his easygoing manner was missing. Ivo wasn’t sure whether it was the lieutenant’s visit and concern over the informant, or something else. He thought, as Charles’s gaze slid once more to the late duke’s portrait, that it was something else.
Chapter Seventeen
Breakfast was far from a pleasant meal despite everyone being at the table. The tension in the room was tangible. Gabriel was speaking in monosyllables, and Vivienne was listless. Felicia was relishing their falling-out, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she watched them over the brim of her cup.
“Such a pity the prince had to leave so suddenly,” she said with insincere dismay. “I wonder if he will return?”
The dowager shot her daughter-in-law a look of dislike. “Eat your breakfast, Felicia.” She looked as if she would have liked to say more but restrained herself, viciously slicing her toast into smaller pieces.
Last night, Olivia had sought out Vivienne to offer her the support the other woman had always given to her. Vivienne had been upset about the damage to the relationship with her husband. “I should have told him,” she admitted. “He feels I have deceived him, but… everything was going so well. I didn’t want to cause any upsets. Especially after the awfulness of my family and then coming to live at Grantham. We had enough to contend with, or so I thought. I was always going to tell him; the right time just never presented itself.”
Olivia had comforted her. “Gabriel will understand. He probably read your book and loved it. He is a great reader of romances.”
Vivienne gave a wan smile. “Hehasread it. I saw it on his bookshelf at Cadieux’s.”
Olivia had chuckled, and then Vivienne had giggled.
“It will be all right,” Olivia had said as she gave Vivienne a hug. “Gabriel loves you so much. He’ll realize this is but a minor bump in the road.”
However, at breakfast, she had to wonder just how wide the rift between them really was. Her brother was hurt—he did not like secrets. Well, he would just have to get over it. Matters were much worse for Annette. She had left first thing this morning with her parents for their home in Devon, the viscount and viscountess grim-faced while their daughter’s eyes were red from weeping. Olivia hoped things would calm down, but while she had sympathy for Annette, surely it was her own fault for blurting out the truth about the book’s authorship in front of everyone.
The dowager finished mangling her toast and seemed to come to a decision. She looked up, her gaze traveling around the table at the subdued breakfasters.
“I have decided I will return to London.”
There was a gasp. Olivia’s fingers closed so tightly on her teacup she feared it might crack. London? Was her grandmother going alone?Please, please, take me!She bit her lip before the words could escape.
The dowager was continuing. “Gabriel and Vivienne will remain here with the younger girls. Gabriel tells me he has estate matters to deal with, and Vivienne has much to learn about running a household like Grantham.”
Vivienne’s shoulders stiffened, but she did not respond. Grandmama’s gaze found Olivia.
