Page 78 of Undercover Duke
Last night, she should have asked her questions. Perhaps when she’d felt his eyes on her, as if he was wondering if he should wake her. But she hadn’t been in the mood. She’d been tired, not to mention weary of discussing what he’d kept from her. Between the possibility that Mama had been a murderer and that Sheridan might have to be the one to trap her into confessing, Vanessa had needed time just to think of what to say to him about the enormous secret he’d been hiding from her. And to ask what else he might be keeping from her.
Eventually, she would have to ask her questions, if only to put her fears to rest. But with Mama in the carriage now, she would be forced to delay her questioning. Her mother had a way of turning every conversation around to herself, anyway.
“I don’t understand why we had to leave the country in such a hurry,” Mama said in her most peevish voice. “Armitage Hall was a very striking residence. I’m sure it will be even more appealing once improvements are made to it.”
“The only improvements I’ll be making at present will be to my tenant cottages,” Sheridan said curtly. “My tenants . . .ourtenants have waited a long while for their landlord to do much-needed repairs.”
“I suppose you will use my daughter’s dowry for that.” Mama sniffed. “Although one would think you would first wish to improve your own house rather than wasting money on—”
“I agree with my husband,” Vanessa cut in. “Tenants are the backbone of an estate, and thus they deserve our care.” Realizing she sounded curt, Vanessa added, “Besides, Mama, you wouldn’t enjoy having only a village as small as Sanforth to provide amusements for you. Sadly, St. Brice’s Day is past, so you can’t even see the running of the bull.”
Sheridan smiled warmly at Vanessa. “Ihaven’t yet seen the running of the bull, and I live there. Then again, last year I was in mourning and couldn’t really attend such things, and this year I was in London.”
Vanessa ventured a smile of her own before turning to deal with her mother. “Which is where you generally prefer to be, Mama. I can’t imagine why you would want to stay in the boring old country.”
Sheridan obviously caught the sarcasm in her words, for he tightened his lips as if trying not to laugh. The only reason Mama had been whisked away from Armitage Hall was to prevent her from renewing her fight with the dowager duchess.
Fortunately, her mother hadn’t figured that out. “You do have a point, my dear. Although it will be hard to be in town without you.” Mama drew out her handkerchief to dab at her perfectly dry eyes. “I shall miss you so. While London does, of necessity, have more choices for entertainment, what good is it if I must attend them alone? Now that you are married, the three of us should go to some of them.”
Lord help her. The last thing she wanted was her mother treating Vanessa’s marriage as a club she could join.
Just as Vanessa was frantically hunting for something to discourage Mama, Sheridan winked at her. “Unfortunately, Vanessa and I can’t stay long in town. A few days at most.”
How clever of him to have stepped in so readily. He was proving to be a good husband in some things, and apparently more than capable of handling her mother. Which was an art in itself.
“After I’ve met with Bonham,” Sheridan went on, “we’ll be returning to Armitage Hall to begin on those improvements I mentioned. I’m afraid you will have to rely on some of your friends to accompany you to places. Or your brother.”
“Noah? I suppose he might be willing. He said he means to stay with your family at the estate until they depart for town tomorrow. And speaking of your estate, I trust you mean to improve your stables, too. Why, there weren’t even enough good saddle horses for riding.” She shot Sheridan a coy look. “You shall have to remedy that at once, Duke.”
The pained expression that crossed his face was hard to miss, though he masked it quickly. “I hope I can manage that soon.” He eyed Mama with interest now. “Do you ride, Lady Eustace?”
Her mother gave a girlish laugh. “Well, of course. In my youth, I was quite a good rider.”
He nodded. “I thought my mother had mentioned that. She spoke of how fine your seat was when you were at the house party at Carymont for Grey’s christening, all those years ago.”
“Did she? That was kind of her.” Mama’s use of the wordkinddripped with disdain. “But she must have forgotten she only saw me ride the first day, when we all went out for a tour of the estate. A hare darted out and spooked my horse, which threw me.”
Her mother used her hands to describe the event, her handkerchief fluttering with every movement. “My leg hit a rock and was in such a state I couldn’t even move it for the rest of the visit! I spent all of my remaining time near the fire with my leg propped on a cushion. Well, all my time until the tragedy, that is.”
Sheridan’s gaze shot to Vanessa, and an unspoken message passed between them. Her mother couldn’t have been the one to poison Grey’s father. Granted, they would have to confirm her mother’s story with servants at Carymont and perhaps with the dowager duchess, who ought to have remembered that. But Mama seemed blissfully unaware that she had just removed herself from the list of people who’d possibly killed Grey’s father.
Relief swamped Vanessa. Oh, thank heaven it wasn’t Mama! Her mother might exasperate her, but Vanessa didn’t want to lose her. Besides, if Mama had proved to be a murderer, Vanessa would never have been able to look Grey in the face again.
On the other hand, Mama being exonerated meant that she and Sheridan had married for naught. What if he resented that? What if he regretted taking up with her at all? If he hadn’t accepted Grey’s request to question Mama, Sheridan wouldn’t have been in a position to flirt with her or kiss her or . . .
“My wife . . . my duchess . . . mygoddess. . .”
Surely those words hadn’t been a complete lie, had they? He must have felt some small affection for her in order to have initiated her into marital relations with such loving care.
How she wished she’d already asked him the question she needed an answer to. Because now she had a whole day ahead of her to dwell on it before she could actually ask him. And with Mama around, it would be a long enough day as it was.
By the time they reached Cambridge, Sheridan was growing restless. Just to be sure Lady Eustace hadn’t been involved in the murders, he’d asked her what the second house party had been like. She’d described an exciting round of amateur theatricals, held to amuse her friend Lydia during her confinement. When asked about servants, she’d scoffed at him. Who cared what servants were there?
He and his family cared. But that was a question he’d have to leave to Vanessa to pose. He didn’t want to show his hand, and his wife could question her mother more naturally.
Still, he was fairly certain Lady Eustace hadn’t committed any of the murders. Vanessa was right—her mother might be cruel, but she didn’t have the ambition for such an elaborate scheme of villainy. And she really didn’t have a motive for it, either.
Once at the inn, Lady Eustace was more than ready to retire, after asking that a tray be brought to her room, courtesy of His Grace, of course.
