“Now there’s a man that many would likely wish dead,” Anthony’s mother said as she shook her head a little sadly. “His uncle has his work cut out for him, reforming that boy so he can one day inherit. I certainly don’t envy him.”
“And I don’t envy Anthony,” Louise said. She gave her brother a look that was filled with genuine sympathy. “Not only are you faced with the challenge of solving an attempted murder but you also have Miss Smith to find.”
“As grateful as I am for your consideration, Louise,” Anthony felt compelled to say, “the constable will hopefully locate our villain with the help of law enforcement in other parishes, if necessary, which means that all I really have to do is discover Miss Smith’s whereabouts. I’ll begin tomorrow.”
“I say,” Winston remarked with the hint of a cheeky smile upon his lips, “she must have left quite an impression on you. I haven’t seen you this eager about a woman since I can’t remember when.”
“It does seem a bit rash,” his mother added.
Anthony rolled his eyes. “I am not engaging in a search for her because I’m smitten,” he said. At least that wasn’t his only reason. “But because the Deerfords are of the opinion that the gown Miss Smith was wearing was the very same one their daughter wore the night she disappeared.”
Silence.
“In my opinion it’s ridiculous,” he continued, pausing only to take a healthy sip of his brandy. “What on earth would Miss Smith be doing with Lady Margaret’s ball gown? It’s absurd.”
“Then again,” his mother said, her gaze coming to rest upon Anthony’s face, “we don’t really know anything about Miss Smith, not to mention that she did adopt Winston’s ridiculous idea about being from Flemmington.”
“I thought it was rather clever, unveiling her that way,” Winston said as he smiled across at Sarah, who was looking at him as adoringly as ever.
“It didn’t offer us much information about her though, other than her desperate desire to remain unknown,” the duchess said. She leaned slightly forward in her seat and looked at Anthony. “Whoever she may be, she attended this evening without invitation and proceeded to lie to us directly. The only reason she wasn’t escorted out was because you developed a weak spot for her. I can understand it in a way—her looks, coupled with that bit of mystery—most men would grovel for her attention.”
“I never grovel for anything,” Anthony said. His annoyance made the words come out harsher than he’d intended.
“Nevertheless, your interest in her was what kept her here—that and her attire, which indicated that she was every bit the gentlewoman she pretended to be. And I do mean pretend, Anthony, especially given the latest bit of news about the Deerfords. Heavens, she might be someone’s maid, for all we know.” The duchess’s lips twisted into a bit of a pout. “It promised to be such a lovely evening, and now ... this.”
“It could be worse,” Sarah said, surprising them all with the sound of her smooth voice. “Lady Rebecca could have died while Miss Smith vanished without a trace. From what I gather, however, Miss Smith cannot be far from here. I was standing close to her when she mentioned seeing the fireworks as a child from her bedroom window.”
“How very observant of you, my dear,” Winston said, his eyes shining with pride.
“You are right,” Anthony told her. He then looked around at everyone else. “She must live within a ten-mile radius to have seen them clearly. If I go into Moxley tomorrow and visit the various homes—”
“You cannot possibly,” his mother gasped. “There are hundreds of houses, Anthony—Moxley may not be the biggest town in England, but it’s not exactly a village either.”
“I can help,” Huntley said, “if you wish it.”
Winston nodded. “So can I, and if we enlist the help of the footmen too, then it ought not take more than a day to visit all the homes.”
“Thank you, both of you.” Anthony reached for his brandy. “I’ll ask my valet to visit the peripheral homes—that should save us some time.” Tossing back the remainder of his drink, he rose to his feet. “If you’ll forgive me, it’s been a long day, and tomorrow promises to be quite grueling. I’d like to retire to my chambers and get some rest.”
“A wise decision,” his mother said, nodding. She looked as if she planned to say more but stopped herself.
“What is it?” Anthony asked.
Her eyes met his with such intensity that Anthony found himself taking a step back, hitting the heel of his foot against the chair behind him as he did so. “I know it’s been difficult for you the last few years, but I want you to know that I’m so proud of the way in which you’ve handled it all. I’m sorry about what I said earlier—about needing to take responsibility.” She sighed, a sad little smile playing upon her lips. “You’ve faced your obligations without the least bit of hesitation, and you’ve reformed. Most men would not have accomplished such a growth of character in so short a time.”
“I only did what was necessary, Mama,” Anthony said, feeling somewhat bashful from all the praise.
“Perhaps,” his mother conceded. “But that makes it no less impressive. I hope you find happiness for yourself, as Louise and Winston have done, for you deserve it. Perhaps Miss Smith—”
“A moment ago you were opposed to her,” Anthony said, surprised that his mother would mention Miss Smith in regards to his future.
“I only mean to caution you against acting rashly—at least until we discover more about her and why the Deerfords say they recognized her attire, though I must agree I think they’re mistaken in this regard. Don’t take me wrong, Anthony—I’m not in the least bit happy about Miss Smith’s deceit. Be that as it may, I can’t deny that I enjoyed her company—she’s a very likeable young lady.”
“She’s engaged,” Anthony muttered, then added, “almostengaged.”
“What on earth do you mean?” Louise asked. “Is she or is she not? It makes a big difference, you know.”
A moment ago, he’d been off to bed. Now he had some explaining to do. Resuming his seat, Anthony said, “I believe there’s a long-standing agreement, though the gentleman in question—whoever he may be—has not yet proposed.”
