“What did you used to watch at the Horse and Hen?” Hannah asked, utterly refusing to allow Lady Eliza’s fears to disrupt the entire conversation.
“There’s no use talking about the past.” Lady Joan speared her soft-boiled egg with a rather surprising ferocity, especially since she was using a spoon. A few droplets of runny yolk even ended up on the tablecloth. “Father would not approve.”
“But he’s gone.” Eoin spoke again, and by the way his relatives jumped, it was clear that they’d half forgotten about his presence, despite his considerable size. “I am duke now, and I am interested in the answer to Hannah’s question, especially as it pertains to my mother.”
“Oh, they simply had the best tavern maids. It’s no wonder that your father fell for one.” Lord Hugh’s attempt at a grin was both garish and more than a tad unsettling.
“Are you afraid of Grandfather’s ghost?” Eoin asked.
“What? No. What in heaven’s name are you blathering about?” Lord Hugh paused to take a healthy swig of his special tea and then a second. “I don’t believe in spirits.”
“Then why are you lying?” Eoin asked evenly.
“I am not fibbing.” Lord Hugh swung a desperate look in his younger brother’s direction.
Lord Francis took his own gulp of gin-laden tea and then cleared his throat. “It’s no falsehood. The place had prettier girls than many a brothel.”
“First, you should do well to remember that my mother worked at that establishment,” Eoin said stiffly. “Second, you always tug your ear when you lie, Uncle Hugh.”
“I don’t!” Lord Hugh exclaimed as he simultaneously reached for his lobe. As soon as his finger had brushed against it, he realized his error. His pale-blue eyes grew huge, and he slapped his hand down on the table with enough force to send the silverware clattering.
“This entire meal is giving me indigestion.” Lady Eliza shoved her plate away before she jumped up from the table. Clutching her stomach, she hurried from the room.
“Now you’ve done it!” Lord Hugh cried out as if his sister was truly suffering a dire malady. It was clear to Hannah, though, that Lady Eliza’s dramatic exit had only provided her brother with the perfect excuse to avoid Eoin’s questions.
“Once she gets into a state, she is inconsolable,” Lady Joan moaned as she gently laid down her silverware. “It will take all three of us to calm her down.”
“Most assuredly,” Lord Francis chimed in.
The three then arose in unison and then just as quickly vanished after Lady Eliza. Eoin sighed when the pocket door slid shut behind them. “That was decidedly unproductive.”
“Not entirely,” Hannah disagreed. “There is something important about the Horse and Hen. Lord Hugh is acting cagey. It may be dangerous, but I think we may need to make another visit there. Perhaps after we talk to your butler.”
Because it was clear that things were more complicated than Hannah had assumed.
Chapter Ten
You wished to speak with me?” Smythe asked in his booming voice as he stiffly marched into Eoin’s office. Like most well-trained butlers, he didn’t give as many visual clues to his emotions. His hands always remained clasped behind his back and his expression placid as if someone had carved it.
Yet Eoin had felt less coldness from the man than he had from the other servants. The others avoided him, especially the maids. Even when he was a young boy, they’d scurry from the room whenever he entered it, with the exception of his nanny. She had been exceedingly distant and regularly employed a switch when he did not behave as the duke dictated. She’d been replaced by an equally strict tutor, who also had not believed in sparing the rod either. But Smythe hadn’t entirely ignored Eoin’s presence nor had he ever disciplined him.
“Oh yes!” Hannah replied to Smythe in that overly bubbly tone of hers. Eoin much preferred her real voice, but so far, her fake naïveté had worked in their favor.
Smythe solemnly turned in her direction. If he took umbrage to a mistress addressing him like she was the lady of the house, he did not betray a single hint of frustration.
“You see, I was asking my dear Eoin about his mother, and I was very distressed to hear he knows so very little. Are you privy to any details, Mr. Smythe?” Hannah asked and thenbelatedly waved her hand toward a chair. “Please sit, but I must warn you that these chairs are very uncomfortable.”
Smythe glanced at Eoin, clearly asking for permission to accept Hannah’s unorthodox offer. Eoin nodded. Smythe slowly settled his long-limbed body into the high-backed furniture.
“Do you wish to know about your mother, Your Grace?” Smythe’s brown eyes studied him. Despite his solemn, almost sour, countenance, Eoin couldn’t help but sense a kindness.
“Yes,” Eoin said.
“I do not know much,” Smythe said. “Your father had long left the household when he married her.”
“Oh, there had to have been some absolutely glorious gossip discussed in the servants’ halls and the kitchens,” Hannah said.
“The former duke would have sacked anyone who mentioned it,” Smythe said. “And he would have ensured that they could not find good employment elsewhere. The staff are still afraid to mention His Grace’s parents even now.”
