“So,a typical young gentleman.”
A smile liftedElizabeth’s lips. “Yes. When he returned, though, he was sober as acleric, and he fairly disappeared from society. The rumours dieddown—”
“Mostly,” Maria interjected.
“Mostly.” Elizabeth amended.
Sera frowned.“Why do I not remember this?” She took pride in knowing everything.Everything. This was salacious enough she should have longsince become an expert.
Maria clearedher throat. “The rumours first started when you were in Paris thosefive months.”
Oh. Sera avertedher gaze. Paris. When she’d gone to meet her father and he...hadnot come. She shook herself. “But after that?”
Elizabeth lifteda shoulder. “Perhaps we simply weren’t interested?”
“Perhaps.” She vaguely recalled something that could have beenthese rumours, but possibly it was as Elizabeth said—she simply hadnot been interested enough to care.
A slight scratchat the door signalled the arrival of the tea service. They fellsilent as Millie and Veronica arranged the tea and sweets. “Arethese the shortbreads, Veronica?” Sera asked.
The maid paused.“No, milady. I don’t believe Mrs Travers baked any this morning.Would you like her to?”
“No,no.” She looked over the treats on display, her gaze catching onone in particular. “Gingernuts?”
“Yes, milady,” Veronica confirmed warily.
“Excellent. I do enjoy Mrs Travers’s gingernuts. You maygo.”
Veronica bobbeda curtsey, as did Millie. “Thank you, milady,” theysaid.
After they haddeparted, Sera picked up the teapot. “What else have youdiscovered, perhaps something a little more concrete than rumouredmurders?”
“Hehas no discernible wealth, and has taken bachelor’s rooms in amodest residence in Belgravia,” Elizabeth said while Maria eyed offthe gingernuts. “He does not seem interested in increasing hisfortune through the taking of a bride.”
Pouring the tea,Sera snorted. “Half the Ton has no discernible wealth; no doubt hisbrother finances him. And if he has no interest in wealth, then whywould he shackle himself with a wife? What aboutlately?”
“Lately?” Maria asked around a mouthful ofgingernuts
“Yes. This is all of his life in the past. What of his lifenow?”
Maria swallowed.“Mrs Travers does make good gingernuts.”
“Shedoes. Lord Stephen?”
Maria exchangeda look with Elizabeth. “My brother often sees him exercising?” sheoffered. “Richard often takes early morning walks, and he hasmentioned he has seen Lord Stephen undertaking exercise.” Marialowered her voice. “Apparently, he swims.”
Good god, she’dheard it all now. What member of quality swam? InLondon?
“AndRichard says he plays football. That’s how I knew, last night atthe ball. He plays it with the lower classes,” Mariaadded.
Sera’s browsshot up. Whowasthis man? He didnothingas heought. “He is contrary, is he not?”
Shrugging, Mariapilfered another gingernut and shoved it in her mouth.
“Mybrother sees him often at a gaming hell.” Lifting her tea cup,Elizabeth took a sip.
“Don’t all gentlemen?” Sipping her own tea, Sera sighed.“Which one?”
“The1810 Club. My brother says it’s the most amusing establishment. Hesays there are cards, and gaming, and there are even four billiardstables, and the quality of the liquor is second to none. Bestwhisky he’s ever tasted, apparently. Lord Stephen owns part of itwith several other gentlemen. It was bequeathed by LordHarbor.”
