CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Two weeks later
“Imust say, Eversleigh, you’ve been quite the man about town of late.”
Roarke lifted a brow as the Earl of Rockford sauntered up to him. He’d been standing at the edge of the crowded ballroom with a glass of Madeira, leaning against one of the massive pillars that marked the entryway and trying to gain a reprieve. He should have known Rion wouldn’t allow him a moment’s peace.
“Is there something wrong with that?” he asked evenly. However, something more menacing must have shown in his gaze, for the earl raised his hands before him.
“Easy, old boy. I was merely making conversation.”
Roarke sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Forgive me. I’m just a bit out of sorts. My mother has been dragging me all over London and shoving every eligible girl at me within a hundred mile radius.”
Rion smiled. “Ah, yes. It must be horrible indeed to be hounded by so many lovely women.”
Roarke said nothing, for in truth, itwasmiserable. It didn’t matter how pretty, or graceful, or accomplished each debutante was that was thrown his way, none of them were Mara—the one he truly wanted.
At least something positive had happened during the past fortnight. Mr. Andrews had shown up with news about Big B. After going off of the lead from Mara, the investigator’s contact in Paris claimed that, according to an eye-witness account, Bentley had indeed been seen in the French underground of boxing, but abruptly left a fight in the middle of a round and hadn’t been seen since. The man who had been acting as his manager, Mr. James Larkin, was rumored to have returned to England, although his exact location was yet to be determined.
Roarke chose, at least for the moment, to keep this information from Mara. Until he knew more, he didn’t see a need to worry her unnecessarily about Bentley. Mr. Andrews assured him that he continued to retain his agent in France for this sole purpose, and now that they had an actual name to go by, instead of the infamous pseudonym fer-de-lance,Roarke was confident that it was only a matter of time before this mystery was solved.
So that only left one more to uncover.
Roarke hadn’t assigned anyone to follow Mara since he had taken her to Eversleigh House, but he decided it was time to do so again, only this time, he made sure to include his mother and Lyra in the trail as well. One way or another, something was bound to transpire along the way to shed some light on the darkness of the past. Any secret, even a closely guarded one, usually had a miscalculation somewhere, and while there was still breath in his body, Roarke intended to get to the bottom of it.
“Your Grace, how good of you to join us.”
Roarke shook off any further musings as Rion spoke, and nodded to the duke who returned the gesture in kind.
“Rockford, Eversleigh,” Albright replied cordially. After a brief chat where the social niceties were taken care of, he turned his full attention to Roarke. “I trust that your sister is getting along?”
“I believe so,” Roarke replied. “Although I fear I haven’t seen her lately, Mother assures me that all is well.”
The duke frowned. “Is she not still in residence at Eversleigh House?”
“No. She chose to return to home.”
“I see.” Albright seemed to fade away for a moment before he offered up a smile. “In that case, please give her my best regards. Good evening, gentlemen.”
“What do you suppose that was all about?” Rion asked curiously as the duke walked away.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Roarke murmured, a frown creasing the middle of his forehead.
They lapsed into silence for a moment, before Rockford finally put their mutual thoughts into words. “You don’t suppose he has developed atendrefor Lyra, do you?”
The furrow grew deeper. While Roarke couldn’t firmly discount the notion out of hand, he hedged, “I’ve not known the duke to show my sister any particular attention.”
“You have to overlook my newfound tendencies,” Rion clapped a hand on Eversleigh’s shoulder with a friendly chuckle. “Ever since I found the love of my life, I tend to see Cupid’s hand in everything, and if anyone is deserving of a gentle companion, it is your sister. Speaking of which, here comes my lovely bride now.”
As Athena joined them, Roarke couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealous envy as the earl lifted his wife’s hand and gave it a gentle kiss that implied much more intimacy than the whole of thetonmarriages combined. In turn, Athena’s cheeks tinted a perfect, pink. “Rogue,” she teased of her husband.
Rion grinned unabashedly. “You would know.”
As Lady Rockford’s blush deepened, Roarke decided it was time he took his leave. Murmuring his excuses, he walked off in the opposite direction of the ballroom. However, he didn’t make it more than a handful of steps before his mother accosted him.
“Eversleigh! Where are you going?”
“I believe it’s called the card room,” he returned with a lazy drawl. “I find that my patience with your matchmaking is at its limit for the evening, and I daresay I shall need something stronger than wine to get me through the remainder.”
