Page 101 of Beneath the Devil's Mask
But Sara moved into the room, deposited her parasol upon Mandell’s desk and stripped off her gloves. “I only require a few minutes of your time, Mandell.”
“I thought you would be gone on your bride trip. Does your husband approve of his wife calling upon single gentlemen?”
“You and I are cousins now,” she reminded him. “Besides, Nick doesn’t know I am here.”
“Nick doesn’t know a good many things,”
At least she had the grace to color a little at that. Mandell was sore tempted to evict her from the house himself, but whatever her reason for coming, he sensed that Sara was determined to stay put until she had her say. Loath as he was to admit it, Mandell felt a stirring of curiosity.
After a reluctant pause, he dismissed Hastings. The footman retired with a stiff bow. When the door closed behind him, Mandell rose to his feet, suddenly conscious of his disheveled appearance. He was clad in nothing but his breeches and satindressing robe. Sweeping back the strands of hair from his eyes, he adjusted the folds of the robe, which gapped open about his bared chest, and he belted the sash more snugly about his waist.
Sara demurely turned her gaze away during the procedure. Her affected modesty only served to sharpen Mandell’s anger with her. He did not invite her to sit down, but she did so anyway. Perching upon the edge of his desk, she glanced about his dark-paneled study with bright curious eyes.
“This is the first time I have ever been privileged to enter your house,” she said. “It is exactly what I would have expected of you, elegant but cold. Very severe.”
“Is that why you came here? To discuss my decor?”
“No.” Some of her bravado slipped away, her features becoming more subdued. “You might be interested to know, Mandell, that we left the countess’s party not long after you did last night. Nick got noticeably quiet. He hardly spoke a word during the carriage ride back to our flat.”
“That would be a first for Drummond.”
“He was not at all himself. When we arrived home, he gave me a quick kiss goodnight. Then he went out alone and did not come back until well after midnight.”
“And the pair of you wed only two days? Can it be your charms are wearing thin so soon, my dear?”
Her cheeks flooded with color at his mocking tone. “I believe Nick’s distracted state had more to do with you,” she accused. “You told him something that upset him. Or at least I think you did. It is not always easy to tell with Nick. He seems such a straightforward sort of man, but I’ve come to realize he can be very good at dissembling.”
“He doesn’t hold a candle to you, my dear,” Mandell said. “Are you worried about what I might have said to him? Whether I asked if you still have that charming habit of dragging all the covers to your side of the bed? Whether I warned him not towaste too much money on stays and chemises because you don’t often wear them?”
“Mandell, you didn’t!”
“No, I didn’t, curse you. As you well know I would not after the shock of hearing that you were already married, of seeing Nick trail after you like some lovesick calf.”
Sara gave a tiny sigh of relief. She eased off the desk and came to Mandell with contrition in her eyes or at least the appearance of it. “I am sorry, Mandell. Truly I am. I wanted to tell you about Nick and me sooner, but everything happened so fast. And I know you would not be pleased, so I turned craven. I thought it would be better to wait.”
“Until you had him well and truly hooked?”
She tried to place her hand on his arm, but Mandell shook her off. He said bitterly, “Tell me just one thing, Sara. Out of all the trusting noble fools in London, how did you happen to settle upon Nick? Was it some sort of twisted vengeance against me because I would not gratify your ambitions?”
“No! It was nothing like that!”
“Then what was it? You could not have fancied Nick any great matrimonial prize! From a worldly point of view, you could not have done worse than Drummond. He is not a wealthy man.”
“I did not realize his grandfather would cut him off.”
Mandell gave a hard laugh. “There was not much for His Grace to cut. Nick was never a favorite with the old man. The most the duke ever offered Drummond was that wretched palace down by the river, a crumbling Tudor wreck. He would never have allowed Drummond even that if he had realized that Nick meant to convert the place to a charity hospital someday.
“No, my dear, Nick has but a modest income from the estate his father left and whatever stipend he might earn from his political offices. And what little Nick does have, he tends to give to any beggar that crosses his path.”
“I know that,” Sara said with a wry smile.
“So you wed him for his title? Because he is the grandson of a duke.”
“The Honorable Mrs. Drummond?” Sara pulled a face. “No, I don’t even like the sound of it, and as for being related to His Grace of Windermere, I don’t see how anyone could benefit from kinship with that old curmudgeon.”
Mandell regarded her with a puzzled frown. “Then you must have believed that Nick will rise to a position of some political importance. Perhaps you fancied yourself the wife of a prime minister one day?”
Sara laughed outright. “With Nick’s radical views? He will be lucky to keep his seat in the House of Commons.”
