“Aye. The private detective I’ve hired believes it would be best if I laid low for a while. Let the attention shift elsewhere and all that before the House of Lords reconvenes.”
That gave Weston pause. “You cannot seriously believe you’ll be brought before us on real charges. You’re the Duke of Hanover, for God’s sake.”
“And a murderer, if public opinion counts for anything.”
“By the start of the Season, everyone will have found some new piece of salacious gossip to entertain themselves with, and doting mothers will once again be shoving their daughters in your path like sacrificial lambs.”
Sterling looked up from his glass. “Speaking of lambs, do you know there’s one in the parlor?”
“I’m well aware,” Weston said through gritted teeth. “Her name is Posy, and she belongs to Miss Evelyn Thorncroft. I’ve high hopes that both the lamb, and Miss Thorncroft, will be departing shortly.”
“Thorncroft…Thorncroft…why does that sound–I know.” Sterling snapped his fingers. “I’ve met her sister. The red-haired one. Ah…Joanna. She’s working for the private detective I’ve hired to clear my name. Thomas Kincaid. Nice fellow. You’d like him.”
“You mean shewasworking,” Weston corrected. “Joanna was working for Mr. Kincaid, and now she’s on her way back to Boston.”With Evie soon to follow in her footsteps,he added silently.
“Boston? No, not unless she’s a doppelgänger I don’t know about,” Sterling said cheerfully, oblivious to the sudden tension in Weston’s jaw. “Just saw her yesterday afternoon. It seems she and Kincaid have taken up with each other. Never seen him happier.” The duke drank his whisky. “Shouldn’t you know all this? Joanna’syoursister, not mine.”
“Half-sister.” Throwing back the remainder of his drink, Weston rose to pour himself another. “Joanna Thorncroft is myhalf-sister. And I want absolutely nothing to do with her. Or Evelyn.”
Especially Evelyn.
“Inviting her to be your guest for a month is an odd way of showing your dislike.”
As the tension in his jaw traveled down into his shoulders and arms, Weston gripped the crystal decanter with such force he wouldn’t have been surprised if it had shattered in his hand. “Brynne invited her, not me. She has some nonsensical idea about wanting a close friend. For my part, I’d just as soon never see Miss Thorncroft again.”
“Is that the sister you’re not related to, or the one that you are? Sorry,” Sterling chuckled when Weston uttered a curse. “With the way things have been going lately, if I didn’t have fun at your expense, I’d have no fun at all. Relax, mate. I’ve never seen you this flummoxed over a skirt before.”
“I am notflummoxed,” Weston growled.
Sterling nodded sagely. “Exactly what someone who is flummoxed would say.”
“You’re a right bastard. You know that, don’t you?”
“So I’m told.” Sterling stretched his legs out in front of him. “Do you think you’ll really do it, then? Propose to Lady Martha.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Having topped off his glass, Weston pivoted to face the duke and notched a brow. “I have to marry someone. We all do, yourself included. It’s the price we pay for the titles hanging round our necks, and Lady Martha will make as fine a countess as any.”
“A tad boring, isn’t she?”
Why did everyone keep saying that? True, there was nothing that made Lady Martha Smethwick particularly interesting. But that was what he liked most about her. Pretty and predictable was far better, in his opinion, than captivating and capricious.
A wife was meant to be a dependable means by which to keep his house in order. Not a distraction or, worse yet, a temptation.
Again, he thought of Evie.
Wrapped in silk.
Her tongue peeking out to wet her lips as she sank to her knees before him and–
“Lady Martha is a young woman of distinction,” he growled, swiping Evie from his mind with all the testiness of a bear swatting at a bee that persisted in buzzing around its head. “She has impeccable manners, her family has never suffered so much as a hint of a scandal, and our political interests align. I cannot imagine a more suitable wife.”
Sterling yawned. “As I said, boring.”
“When areyougoing to take a bride?” he asked pointedly.
“Why the hell would I go and do that?”
“Because you’re a duke, and you need a proper heir.”
