“Where did you get that bruise?” Mary asked, pointing to his chin.
“I fell down the stairs,” Monty said.
“No, you didn’t.” Zach’s eyes narrowed. “But that, too, will be talked about at another time.”
“Something is off with you,” Mary whispered.
“No, it’s not,” Monty protested.
“We’ll get the truth from him, my love,” Zach said to Mary. “On you go, Plunge, and try not to trip over my eldest brother’s doorstep. But if you do, lunge to the right and take the painting on the wall down with you,” Zach added, his hand gripping Monty’s shoulder briefly before giving him a nudge forward.
Monty walked behind the other guests and entered the Raine town house. His eyes went to the painting of a ship in an odd gray-blue sea. He’d heard a great deal about it as the brothers loathed it, except the eldest, who Monty was sure kept it to annoy his siblings.
Monty had once vowed to live out his days in blissful solitude as soon as his parents’ killers were found. No friends or wife. Strangely, that thought did not bring him the joy it usually did.
“Is there a reason you have stopped, Plunge?”
“I was taking in the ambience,” he said in a credible Plunge voice. After all, he’d played the man for years. It shouldn’t be that hard.
“Ambience away, old chap,” Zach said from behind him, “but join the receiving line, or we’ll never get to the supper table.”
He reached the top of the stairs and joined the line behind the other guests to greet the hosts.
“Ah, how lovely, another Deville,” Monty said, bowing and nearly tumbling into Nathanial Deville, who stood with his wife, Beth. The man righted him. “Silly me, I nearly fell,” he added. “Mrs. Deville, you look lovely this evening.”
This was Deville brother number two. Monty had once played a hand in providing information to help Beth escape a nasty blackmailing plot against her foolish father.
Nathan studied him, frowning. He then shot Zach a look, who shook his head.
Brothers, Monty noted, seemed to communicate without words regularly. He wondered sometimes what his life would have been like had he a sibling. A great deal different, he was sure.
He walked slowly toward the Earl and Countess of Raine with the other guests and put aside what he’d learned today. He had a part to play this evening as he did whenever he entered society.
“What are we waiting for?” a loud voice asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, Duchess, perhaps this is the receiving line, and we are awaiting our chance to greet the host, who just happens to be my brother. I assure you there will be no bowing from me.”
Turning at Zach’s words, he found everyone’s favorite crotchety old lady, the Duchess of Yardly. Perhaps everyone’s favorite was not quite true, but Monty liked her, as did the Deville family.
The woman had a sharp tongue and often turned it on him, but for all that, she could also be nice when she thought no one was looking.
“What color is that?” Nathan asked, looking at the duchess’s dress. Monty likened it to a slice of moldy bread. Not quite white, or green, or even gray, but a mix of all three.
“Where did your modiste find that material?” Mary asked.
“I’m thinking tucked far away in a cupboard marked, ‘nobody has a use for it,’” Zach added.
The duchess wore two necklaces laden with rubies and sapphires around her wrinkled neck. Rings adorned each of her fingers.
“You look exquisite,” Monty said, bowing.
“No, she doesn’t,” Zach said. “What is on your head, Duchess?”
“It’s a turban,” she snapped. “Which you’d know if you had style, boy!”
“Well, someone hit me over the head with a large piece of wood should I ever have a brush with your style,” Zach said.
The duchess tittered as did most of the other guests. The woman could not be insulted, especially by a Deville, who had adopted her as part of their family. Sort of the grandmother you never wanted but had been forced on you, Monty thought. She’d come when Dimity had joined the family.
