“It’s a recent development,” Simon tried, while holding Elliot’s sharp gaze.
“I see.” Elliot swung his gaze back to Ida. “There’s definitely a resemblance to someone I just can’t seem to place.”
“You’re wrong,” Simon insisted. “Miss Smith comes from Falmouth, which is all the way at the end of Cornwall.”
“I know my geography,” Elliot muttered while he continued to stare at Ida.
“In that case, you also know you never venture so far west. Coming across Miss Smith before today would have been impossible.”
“Quite so,” Ida said. She smiled, then began turning away. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Unless…” Elliot grabbed her wrist and peered at her more closely. The grooves on his brow deepened and his eyes suddenly grew to the size of saucers. “My God. You’re Matthew’s girl.”
He released her as if she’d just stung him and took a step back.
“What?” Ida said, managing an innocent tone for which Simon had to applaud her. She even gave him a curious look. “Who’s Matthew?”
“I’m not sure I know,” Simon said. In for a penny, in for a pound, as it were. If they’d been capsized, this would have been the point at which they started to drown.
“I knew I’d seen you before and so I have.” Elliot’s features hardened. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Simon darted a hasty look in Ida’s direction before addressing his uncle. “Miss Smith is here this evening because I invited her to join me.”
“Then you cannot know who she is,” Elliot hissed in low angry tones. “Her father was a traitor to this country. My God, Simon. You cannot associate with her.”
“I’m trying to help her,” Simon hissed back, deciding there was no point in trying to deceive Elliot further. He’d found them out, so they might as well be honest.
“At the risk of your reputation? Damn you, boy. The Duchess of Huntley could have been the Countess of Fielding if you hadn’t gone and mucked that up. Now here you are, associating with underserving riffraff.” He gave Ida one swift look full of loathing. “Get rid of the chit, Simon. Before others realize who her father was. As it is, it may already be too late.”
Simon wanted to chase down his retreating form and give him hell for speaking of Ida like that, but to do so would only draw additional attention. Already, some of the other guests were staring at him in wonder. He gave them his back only to find himself faced with intense fury.
“Ida. Let me explain.”
“You’ve had over two weeks to do so.” The stubborn tilt of her chin was pointing toward the direction in which Elliot had gone. “Who is he to you, exactly?”
“He’s my uncle. On my father’s side.”
Ida closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, he was shocked to see how clear they were. “I don’t trust easily, but I decided to take a chance on you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me if you knew. And I wanted to help.”
“How exactly did you expect to do so when you cannot be objective? He’s your uncle, Simon. Whether you like it or not, you’ll want someone else to be guilty, not him. And that undermines every effort we’ve made so far to get at the truth.”
“We’re not close and while I will admit that I hope it won’t turn out to be him, I’ve treated him with as much suspicion as the others.”
“Have you really?”
“Of course.” He was certain he had. At least, he knew he’d tried to.
She scoffed. “I need some fresh air.”
“I’ll escort you out onto the terrace.”
“No.” She took a step back, raised her hand to ward him off. “I want to be alone. Without you. So I can think.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Simon, even if we forget for a moment that you didn’t tell me you’re related to one of the suspects, you just allowed your uncle, a man who may for all we know have sent my father to the gallows, to insult me in a way you should have objected to if you cared about me.”
