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The Dangers of Doing Good (Arrangements, Book 4)

Page 8

by Rebecca Connolly


  Had there been a maid arranged to help her? Would she want one? What sort of freedoms did she expect? Or, far more likely, how restricted did she believe she was?

  He groaned and put his head into his hands. He hadn’t thought anything through and now he would look a pompous fool. He had brought a woman into his home for his aunt’s express purposes without explaining anything at all to the woman about what she should do or in what capacity she would serve or where she ranked in the hierarchy of the house.

  Duncan didn’t believe in such standings, and would have told her such straightaway, but he knew enough of her to know that she would expect herself to be around the level of the rats that attempted to enter the kitchen. Which, of course, was the single most ridiculous notion on the planet.

  He would have to correct her misguided and foolish perspective of herself.

  She was… extraordinary.

  Where was she at this moment? Still abed? Wandering the house? He suddenly had the strongest desire to seek her out, and though he knew it was an idiotic notion, he missed her.

  How did one miss someone they had known not even a week?

  And yet…

  He shook his head. He didn’t need to go and seek her out, not this early, not for any reason. Not if he valued his sanity.

  He headed directly for his study, determined to distract himself from thoughts of her. There were several letters on his desk as he entered. He would need to concern himself with matters of business, replying to letters from his friends and solicitors, and one in particular in a now familiar hand.

  Duncan had grown quite used to these letters, which came from an anonymous source, in which was shared with him the latest gossip surrounding his sister. They were delivered every so often, without a pattern, always written in the same hand with the same seal on the back, and always spoke of Marianne and her dealings.

  There was no elaboration or hyperbole in the details shared with him, merely a bald declaration of the facts. Duncan’s own investigations into early reports had proven the source correct in every aspect, but he could not even come close to identifying the man, which drove him mad.

  If the man had an interest in Marianne, Duncan wanted to know. If he was protecting her, he wanted to thank him. Most of all, he was desperate to make sure that his sister was not being put in danger by someone who was apparently following her. But he was elusive, even for Duncan’s efforts, and no harm had come to Marianne. So he had reluctantly come to regard this stranger as trustworthy and reliable. He still didn’t know who it was, but he was grateful that someone out there was also looking out for his sister.

  She had been in rare form of late and this report claimed no different. She had been bolder in her flirtations, crueler to her suitors, and raised more comment from the women of Society than ever before. Her number of suitors had increased, even during the winter months, and those that had joined the ranks were not the sort of men he would wish for his sister to keep company with.

  He would need to speak with her before the Season began. He simply could not deal with more trouble than what he already had.

  He groaned and sat back, pulling at his lip in thought. How did this stranger know so much? Why did he take pains to alert Duncan about Marianne?

  How long would these letters continue to come?

  If this one had just arrived…

  He bolted from his chair, determined to ask about it yet again, to see if anyone had seen it delivered or could give him details.

  He was nearly to the door when it opened, nearly hitting him in the face. He stepped back as a slightly red-faced Wilson appeared.

  “A thousand apologies, sir,” Wilson said, his voice still remarkably calm.

  “No trouble, Wilson,” he replied with a slight wave and a sigh. “What is it?”

  “You have guests, sir.”

  Duncan’s brows shot up. “More?” His house would burst at the seams.

  “Indeed, sir.”

  He put a hand over his eyes. Who in the world would call at this time of the morning unannounced? He slowly dropped his hand, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. “Who is it, Wilson?”

  Wilson’s mouth twitched the barest hint of humor. “Your friends, sir. Lord Beverton, Lord Whitlock, Mr. Harris, and Mr. Gerrard.”

  Duncan stood before his trusted butler with his mouth gaping for an astonishingly inappropriate time.

  “Sir?” Wilson finally asked, looking rather worried for a man with no expression.

  “I thought they weren’t in London until tomorrow,” Duncan managed, his voice raspy.

  “I know nothing of that, sir,” Wilson replied, apparently relieved his master had not lost his ability to vocalize.

  Duncan half nodded, half shook his head. Of course his butler wouldn’t know that. What the devil were they doing here? Could they have already found out about Annie? No, it was not possible. They had only just arrived yesterday and they had not seen anyone.

  But Marianne had requested the aid of Mary Harris…

  No, Mary was a good sort who would never divulge such sensitive information so unwisely.

  Then again, she was remarkably weak where Geoffrey was concerned.

  He glowered. This would not be pleasant.

  “Sir?” Wilson said again, his voice ringing with concern and not a little fear.

  Duncan cleared his expression, having forgotten that his glower tended to make people hide. “Very good, Wilson. Where are they?”

  Wilson visibly relaxed, as much as the stoic man ever did. “The drawing room, sir. Mr. Gerrard requested a tray, should I have one sent in?”

  He nodded. “Yes, or he will go out in search of food and disturb the whole house. Wilson, did they say what they were here for?”

  Wilson shook his head. “No, sir. They only said they understood you had returned and would wait upon you at your convenience.”

  “My convenience would be in another week,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Indeed, sir.”

  He tried not to smile at his butler’s placidity. “Thank you, Wilson. That will do.”

  Wilson bowed and left the room.

  Perhaps they knew nothing.

  Unlikely, but perhaps.

  He would pretend he knew nothing. It wouldn’t be difficult. After all, these were his friends. He had nothing to hide.

  Except he had everything to hide.

  He took a deep breath and released it slowly, then walked towards the drawing room.

  The door was open, no doubt for Colin’s sake, as he enjoyed watching people, so his presence was fairly quickly noticed.

  “Duncan!” Colin crowed from his lounging position on the couch. He grinned and waved like a child.

  Blast. He knew.

  Duncan raised a brow in his greeting. “Good morning, Colin. Did you sleep well last night?”

  The rest of the room snickered, and each man rose to shake Duncan’s hand in a more typical greeting fashion.

  “I did, I did,” Colin cheerfully replied as he remained in place, but shook Duncan’s hand all the same. “Slept like a baby, as always.”

  Derek laughed and shook his head. Duncan glanced at him and noticed the dark circles and tired expression. The youngest heir to the Ashcombe title was almost eight months old, but according to his parents, young Henry Thomas Charles Alexander, known as Harry to them, was no easy child and had yet to master the art of sleeping at night.

  “If that were true,” Derek muttered, “you would wake every few hours and cry without hope or chance of consolation.”

  Nathan chuckled and patted Derek on the back. “Still not sleeping through the night?”

  Derek groaned and put his face in his hands. “Three times last night. Three. At this rate, he will be twelve before I get a full night of sleep.”

  “This is why people have nursemaids for their children,” Colin informed the fathers.

  Both looked at him with interest. “Oh, really, Colin?” Nathan a
sked in amusement. “Is that what worked for your children?”

  Colin didn’t even blink. “You need not get so uppity, my dear earl. Your son sleeps better than I do, so even you do not fully comprehend Derek’s suffering.”

  “You cannot compare Robbie with Harry,” Derek said, shaking his head. “It won’t work. Nathan has more patience than I do, and Moira…” He trailed off and looked at Nathan suddenly. “Actually, Moira and Kate are on the same level with their patience and temperament, so it must be me.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything, but…” Colin trailed off, shrugging.

  “Probably wise,” Geoffrey commented, speaking up for the first time. He had always been the quieter member of the group, which made him a favorite with Duncan, if favorites were allowed.

  “Well, I am going to be losing sleep again myself in the not too distant future,” Nathan sighed, leaning back against his chair.

  All perked up at that announcement.

  Nathan grinned and laced his fingers across his midsection. “Moira is carrying again.”

  They all cheered, and despite their previous tussle, Colin crowed the loudest and rose to congratulate him. Nathan beamed brightly and chuckled when Derek shook his head mournfully.

  “You will be there again soon, my friend,” Nathan chortled. “You’ll see.”

  “Perhaps,” Derek said with a grin. “But the next had better be an angel.”

  “With Kate as the mother?” Colin laughed. “Please.”

  A throw pillow was suddenly soaring through the air and smacked Colin’s face. Another man saying as much would have been thrashed within an inch of his life, but considering every man in the room knew that they all, especially Colin, were entirely devoted to the wives of the others, it wasn’t warranted.

  This time.

  “How was Scotland?” Geoff asked Duncan as the room quieted.

  Duncan shrugged and settled into a chair. “About as I expected. Good food, good company, freezing cold castle, and a few brawls to keep things interesting. I even partook in a clan skirmish, which was won in our favor. And then there was a clan challenge, in which I claimed victory, and returned with many spoils from my relations.”

  “I would like to meet your cousins,” Nathan told him with a grin. “They sound like my kind of people.”

  “You would get along very well,” Duncan replied with a nod. “I should like to pair you against Aiden. He is about your size, but I think you could take him.” He slid his glance over to Colin. “You could fight Gwen, but she would likely tear you to shreds.”

  The others snickered, but Colin gave him a devious smile. “I think I would very much like to try her on for size. It would be most entertaining, and the results might be equally delightful.”

  Duncan glowered at him, knowing his friend would never do what he suggested, but warning him off all the same. “You would not make it five paces towards her before your carcass would be torn apart and left for crows.”

  Colin held up his hands in surrender. “Fair enough. Down, boy, down. I shall stick to my harmless flirtations with the London misses and leave your fair and charming Celtic cousin to her fate.”

  Duncan nodded and turned back to the others. “It was a good visit, though I am glad to be back.” He looked around at them all with narrowed eyes. “Speaking of which, what are you all doing in London at this time? I didn’t anticipate any of you returning so early.”

  Derek shrugged and looked at his hands. “We have been finishing the work on our town home, so Kate wanted to stay and see it through. You know how she adores ordering people around.”

  That was undeniably true.

  “Mary’s brother wanted their country home this holiday,” Geoff chimed in, “and Cassandra and Simon were staying and begged for her company, so she decided to remain. I am powerless to resist when Mary commands.”

  The room snickered as Geoff also shrugged. Geoffrey had been in love with Mary his entire life, but hadn’t realized it until last year, when he had gone completely mad for her. He still was.

  Nathan grinned and said, “Moira heard Kate and Mary were staying and decided I wasn’t enough company for the winter, so here we are.”

  Colin scoffed loudly and looked at his fingernails. “Obviously you’re not enough. Hence your wife’s remarkable fertility.”

  Only Colin could say such improper things and not shock the polite world.

  Nathan returned the look with an arched brow. “You have something to say, Colin?”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “No, no, not a thing… Where is the food, Duncan?”

  Duncan shook his head and gave his friend a pitying look. “It’s forthcoming, Colin.”

  “Good. I’m starving.”

  At that precise moment, a maid carried the heavily laden tray into the room. Colin sprang up and took the tray from her trembling hold. He offered her a bold wink, which sent her cheeks flushing. She met Duncan’s eyes nervously and bobbed a quick curtsey, then scurried from the room.

  “I wish you wouldn’t upset the servants, Colin,” Duncan sighed as he watched his friend set the tray down and begin his foraging.

  Colin looked at him with wide eyes. “Did she seem upset to you? I rather thought she was happy about it.”

  “Colin…”

  He scoffed and sat back down with a plate of the light food. “Duncan. She won’t think anything of my winking at her, and she will now have something fun to report to the girls below stairs. What harm has been done?”

  Duncan looked to his friends for help, but they all looked as clueless as Duncan felt. There was just no helping or excusing Colin.

  “So, Duncan,” Colin announced with a slight clearing of his throat as he settled back in. “Anything else happen on your trip?”

  Duncan pretended to think on it. “No, I’ve told you everything.”

  Colin’s eyes narrowed, but he looked unperturbed. “Anything else you feel like telling us? Any changes in your life that your friends might deserve to know? Any… anything?” He gestured faintly with his hands, as if attempting to draw the information out of him manually.

  Duncan gave him a curious look. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Colin frowned, his high brow wrinkling. “Nothing that ought to be shared between friends of such extent and degree as we are? Nothing that has altered from your previous way of living? Nothing… new?”

  Duncan cocked his head to one side, keeping his expression very carefully blank. “Colin, what are you talking about?”

  Colin threw up his hands and set his plate aside. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, polite behavior is highly overrated.”

  “This is getting us nowhere,” Derek told Colin irritably. “Get on with it.”

  Colin nodded, folded his hands and turned back to Duncan. “We want to know about the woman.”

  A sharp jolt of panic hit Duncan’s stomach, but he hid it as best as he could. “What woman?” he asked innocently.

  Colin looked at him in disgust, then turned to Geoff. “He thinks we are imbeciles.”

  “That’s a bit insulting,” Geoff agreed with a shake of his head. “Honestly, as if we don’t have connections enough to know when he brings a woman into his home.”

  Duncan felt beads of sweat form on the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you are…”

  “Lying to your friends is never a good idea, Duncan,” Derek interrupted firmly.

  “Particularly when they know you are lying,” Colin added.

  “And you, my friend, are lying,” Geoff informed him.

  “Badly,” Nathan chimed in.

  Duncan looked around at them all, then exhaled sharply. What was the point of hiding anything now? They obviously knew about Annie, and hiding things from them would only make things worse when it eventually would come out.

  He glared at Geoffrey. “Tell your wife I will kill her.”

  Geoff looked truly shocked and reared back a bit. “What does Mary have to do with anything?”
<
br />   “She’s the one who told you, right?” Duncan asked, confusion rolling over him.

  “Mary knows about this?” Geoff looked around at the others. “If Mary knows…”

  “Then Kate and Moira will know soon enough,” Nathan finished. “Heaven help us all.”

  Duncan rubbed at his eyes hard. “Then how did you all know?”

  Colin patted him on the arm too hard to be comfortingly. “You forget, Mr. Bray, that I am the very heart of gossip in London. Nothing happens without my finding out.”

  Duncan removed his hands and glared at Colin. “You have spies in my house?”

  “Stop avoiding the point, Duncan,” Nathan said with a grin. “Tell us about this young woman you have brought home.”

  “First of all,” he said, holding up a finger, “I have not brought her home. I have brought her to London.”

  Colin snorted and took a sip of his tea. “And that is an important distinction. Your home is in London, she is in your home in London, yet she was not brought home, but to London. I see.”

  “Shut up, Colin,” Duncan growled ruthlessly.

  “I think I am agitating the bear,” Colin whispered loudly to Geoff, who clamped his lips together.

  Duncan felt another growl rumble in his chest and got to his feet. “Thank you all for coming, but I have other things to attend to.” He started out of the room, but Nathan and Derek rose and stopped him.

  “Come on, Duncan,” Derek said, ushering him back. “Colin will stop being an impertinent whelp, I promise.”

  “Will I?” Colin asked with interest.

  “Yes, you will,” Nathan ordered severely.

  “Fine,” he grumbled moodily. “But make Duncan eat something. He is so cranky when he does not.”

  Duncan glanced back down at his oldest friend, and sighed. Would he never be able to remain angry at the man? He returned to his chair, took the offered plate, and put a few small things on it.

  “Very well, I’ll tell you what you want to know,” Duncan told his friends. “But you are sworn to secrecy and to support me.”

  Colin looked the most surprised. “Did you think we would do anything less? I may plague you worse than a pox, but you know you have my loyalty.”

 

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