“None for me, thank you, but would you mind showing my companion a place where she might have refreshment while she waits for me?”
“At once, Your Grace,” he said and bowed again.
Mrs. Princeton followed him out, and Susannah looked around the room. It was spacious and surprisingly filled with fancy, dark-wood furniture that was covered in embroidered silk fabrics of astoundingly vibrant colors and patterns in shades so rich and striking she decided they could have only come from the Orient.
Life-size statues of Venus and Athena held up the marble mantel that graced the ornate fireplace, and the gold-framed mirror over it was shaped like a large pagoda. The only window in the room was framed with a strikingly odd shade of red velvet draperies. Each panel was held back with large, gold velvet tassels, exposing intricate lace panels covering the panes. Gray skies allowed little light to filter into the room, but lit lamps on either side of the settee gave the room a golden, warm glow.
Susannah sat down on a chair that had an embroidered dragon on the cushion’s fabric, and within minutes of her arrival, Sir Randolph came striding into the room with a curious expression on his face.
Susannah rose. The dapper old gentleman bowed and kissed her hand.
“Your Grace, this is an unexpected but nonetheless pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
She smiled at him. “I have come with questions I hope you can answer, but, Sir Randolph, I see your hands are quite swollen. I know you are preparing for your fight. Are you sure you are taking proper care of yourself?”
Sir Randolph held up his hands and looked at them. It seemed he could barely move his thick fingers. They were not only swollen but red and chafed, as well.
“Thank you for your concern, Duchess. This is merely part of my training. I’m toughening and conditioning my hands. In the meantime, they are not a pretty sight.”
“I see. You know I wish you all good luck with that, and I hope your hands don’t pain you too much.”
“Not at all. There is no need for you to worry about me. I’m hearing that Prattle isn’t doing anything to ready himself for the fight, but that doesn’t matter to me. I think I’m going to win, in any case,” he finished confidently.
Susannah smiled at him again. He was so debonair and so sure of himself, it lifted her spirits just looking at him. “I believe you will.”
“Sit down, Duchess, and tell me what I can do for you this morning.”
“Thank you.” She took a seat on the red and gold striped settee, and Sir Randolph eased into the brightly printed chair in front of her. “I know that I don’t know you well, but I need to ask you for a favor.”
Surprise sparkled in his brown eyes. “It’s been a long time since anyone asked a favor of me. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t known each other long. What do you need?”
She inhaled slowly before saying, “I need to meet Mr. Harold Winston and Mr. Albert Smith. I’ve heard that the Earl and Countess of Kendrickson usually give a large party, so I’m assuming there is a good possibility one or both gentlemen will be at their home tomorrow night. I was wondering if you might be planning to attend, and if so, would you make the introductions for me?”
His curious eyes searched her face. “I usually go to Lord Kendrickson’s party, Duchess.” He paused. “First, let me say that Mr. Smith is not of the ilk to be welcomed into any home in Polite Society, so there is no chance he will be there.”
“Oh, I see. Not knowing the man, I wasn’t aware of that.”
Sir Randolph continued to look at her with a quizzical expression. “And as for Mr. Winston, even though he’s accepted among the ton and he’s throwing Prinny’s name around like a bouncing ball, he’s not exactly in your social standing either, Duchess.”
Susannah understood exactly what Sir Randolph was saying. Social standing meant everything to the members of the ton. “Nevertheless, I would be grateful if you would consent to make the introductions.”
“He will probably be there, and I’m happy to do it for you, but what about Race?”
An ache filled Susannah’s chest, and emotion clogged in her throat. If Sir Randolph had not heard that the pearls had been stolen from Race last night, she did not want to be the one to tell him. That was Race’s call to make, not hers.
“Have you talked to Race today?” she asked.
“No.” Sir Randolph kept his wary gaze on her face. “Have you?”
“Yes, and I assume you are wondering why I am asking you this question when I could have easily asked Lord Raceworth.”
Sir Randolph leaned back in his chair, clearly undecided on what to say. “No, I’m thinking you didn’t ask him because you knew he wouldn’t do it.”
“That is probably true, but there is another reason as well.” She moved to the edge of her seat. “I will only say that Lord Raceworth is not happy with me right now, and he is not a possibility for helping me with anything. That said, I realize he is your dear friend, and you may not want to help me for that reason alone. If that be the case, I will understand and not bother you further.”
He seemed to study over his answer before smiling and saying, “Would you like to know how many times I’ve done things that Race didn’t approve of?”
Hope surged inside her. “Judging from your long friendship with him and your fierce independence, I would say too many to count.”
