Page 37 of Project Duchess
Damn it all. Grey stared his brother down. “A fool and an innocent aren’t the same thing.”
“You barely know her. It’s far too soon for you to be pursuing her.”
“Pursuing her! I’m doing no such thing.”
“Right.” Thorn rolled his eyes. “But while you’re busynotpursuing her, you might consider learning a bit more about her. From someone other than our mother and sister and possibly our brother, I mean.”
Grey blinked at him. “Who else is there?”
“The servants, for one.” Thorn’s tone turned sarcastic. “You might lower your bloody self to talk to them for a change. See whattheyhave to say about her.”
Having often been the subject of rumormongering, Grey found servant gossip to be as unreliable as the society kind. He didn’t like to encourage it. And Thorn knew that.
“Why are you prodding me to talk to the servants about her? What have you heard?”
“Just that some of the maids—” Thorn ran his fingers through his hair. “Never mind. It was probably groundless, anyway. My point is, you seem to desire Miss Wolfe. She’s not my cup of tea, mind you—I prefer blondes myself—but she’s clearly yours. Which means you should take care how you behave around her.”
Grey bristled. “I don’t seeyoubeing careful.”
“That’s because Miss Wolfe knows I’m not serious. And you obviously are.”
“I am not pursuing her.”
“You’re such a liar. Though I can’t tell if you’re just lying to me, or if you’re lying to yourself as well.” With a sigh, Thorn headed down the hall for the drawing room. “Now, I’m going to have myself a decent glass of brandy before I tackle the minuet again. I suggest you do the same.”
“Not at this early hour.”
“Suit yourself.”
Grey waited until Thorn disappeared through a door before he returned to the ballroom. But he didn’t enter. He just stood in the doorway watching Gwyn work with Beatrice on the minuet steps and fuming at what Thorn had said. Damned arse, with his sly insinuations concerning Beatrice’s experience with men. From what Grey could tell, she’d had little. But Thorn seemed to regard her as some budding enchantress.
Looking at her now, Grey was reminded of how guileless she seemed when she was with him.
Grey huffed out a breath. No doubt shewasguileless. Thorn was probably merely goading him as usual. Typical Thorn behavior. Or, just as likely, Thorn was expressing his usual cynicism about women. He’d certainly withdrawn his remarks about Beatrice’s experience with men quickly enough.
A maid came down the hall with a tea tray, headed for the ballroom. Grey stood aside to let her enter, his mind racing. Perhaps heshouldspeak to the servants, if only to confirm that Thorn was full of shite. After all, what damning information could the staff possibly have about Beatrice? Yes, she’d become evasive when Grey had brought up her uncle Armie’s death. But there might be a hundred innocent reasons for that.
As the maid set out the tea, Beatrice went over to pour and nearly got some on her weepers, those white lace cuffs added to mourning attire so women could use them to wipe their tears. The old design of her gown—along with the muslin fabric and the white filmy fichu she’d tucked into her obviously snug bodice—hinted that this was an old day dress she’d dyed black. Which spoke to how poor she and her brother were.
Damn her selfish uncle Armie to hell. And her brother, too, for that matter. Had neither of them any sense of their responsibilities? Their duty to their relations? Beatrice should have been given a come-out long ago.
When the maid came back out into the hall, Grey fell into step beside her. “Pardon me, but I’d like to ask you a few questions, if I may.”
Bobbing her head, she crossed her arms over her chest as if preparing for anything.
You might lower yourself to talk to the servants for a change.
His brother’s words made him wince. Grey was fully aware that his reserved manner could be off-putting to staff.
Perhaps a more oblique approach was warranted. “It’s about Miss Wolfe. I merely want to know what I can do to help her, since Mother seems to rely so much on the lady.”
The servant relaxed her stance. “Oh, sir, whatever you could do for her would be very kind. We should all like to see Miss Wolfe better looked after. She’s such a fine woman, always considering the needs of others without any reward. Even the servants.”
“I gathered as much. Miss Wolfe seems to know everything that goes on in this house.”
“Indeed she does, Your Grace. She helped run the household for her uncle Armitage and even served as his hostess after the duchess died.”
“Right. I gather that the duchess was supposed to take Miss Wolfe on as a companion, but her death cut that short.”
