Page 9 of A Daring Pursuit (The Clandestine Sapphire Society #2)

M iss Isabelle twisted back and forth with her hands at her back, a delicate chain against her neck reflecting the lighting. “I don’t know why everyone keeps calling this the Blue Suite,” she informed Geneva and Abra. “I renamed each to something, um, more enchanting.”

“Ah, enchanting. What did you name this one?” Geneva asked her. The girl was truly a delight.

“Morpho.”

Geneva met Abra’s eyes before turning back to Miss Isabelle. “I…” She had no idea what Morpho meant.

“I’ve seen pictures. We have a most extensive library, you know.” Miss Isabelle limped over to one of the lower paintings and straightened it, stood back to gauge her work, then adjusted it again.

Geneva was at a loss.

“I believe it is an interesting and extremely beautiful butterfly,” Abra said.

Geneva’s mouth dropped.

Miss Isabelle spun quickly around and Geneva’s heart nearly lopped from her chest, fearing the girl would lose her balance. She didn’t. “Yes!” She clapped her hands together. “They are quite famous for their blue wings. They shimmer,” she said with a dreamy smile. “I think they are mostly found in an enchanted forest.”

“Morpho…” Geneva repeated. “It doesn’t sound like a—” There she went again, nearly blurting out how unappealing the name sounded for something that belonged in an enchanted forest. “Like a species one would find near Scotland,” she finished weakly.

Miss Isabelle’s nose wrinkled. “You are right, of course. They are mostly found in South America. The Amazon, I suppose. It’s much warmer there.”

“What other rooms did you name?” Abra asked her.

“Let’s see,” she said slowly. “The Yellow Suite is now the Brimstone. The Rose Room is now the Red Admiral, the Green Suite is Banded Peacock.” She ticked off a finger for each one she listed. “That is the name I assigned Noah’s chamber.”

A burst of unexpected laughter erupted from Geneva picturing Mr. Oshea in a chamber called the Banded Peacock.

She caught Abra’s smirk and a flush of heat crawled up her neck. Geneva turned her narrowed gaze on Miss Isabelle. “You’re bamming us, aren’t you? There couldn’t possibly be a butterfly called ‘Brimstone.’ And it’s yellow, you say?”

She grinned and the sweetness of her expression sliced through to Geneva’s heart. “Yes. There are all sorts of butterflies. The pictures are beautiful. I’ve even composed songs about them.”

“Oh, I should love to hear that,” Abra told her.

“Shall I play for you now?”

“That would be delightful,” Geneva and Abra said at the same time.

*

Lucius hadn’t yet moved his belongings into their father’s chamber, but Noah couldn’t fault him for that. There had never been any desire from Noah to hold the title of earl. He relished his position in assisting Sander in managing the numerous Pender properties. Sander seemed thrilled with the partnership, as it kept him from having to travel so much.

Noah raised his fist to tap on his brother’s current chamber door, but the muted voices stopped him.

“Don’t you see, darling? This is our chance. You haven’t even consummated your marriage yet.” The words spilling from Docia stunned Noah. Never had he heard her speak so frankly. “You haven’t, have you?”

“No,” his brother murmured.

“That’s settled, then. You’ll return to London and file for an annulment.”

“It’s not that simple, Docia. There must be grounds for such a claim. Her father is an extremely powerful man. He’s not known for his subtlety when he’s crossed.” Lucius had that right. “I suppose I could visit Perlsea Keep and speak with her. Perhaps Meredith hates me and will be willing to work together. What a blasted conundrum.”

Noah expected the duke to attend Father’s services if he hadn’t already arrived . They were related through marriage, after all. And his reaction to his daughter not being in attendance was sure to be noticed and remarked upon by more than just her father. Noah gave two sharp raps and entered the room without awaiting an invitation.

Lucius’s hands were on Docia’s upper arms and he leaned forward as if he had just kissed her.

Or was about to.

“What are you doing here?” Lucius demanded in a low growl.

“Did you know that Docia and I had intended on leaving for Scotland this morning?” He glanced at her. “To be married?”

“What?” His brother’s ears turned red. He pierced Docia with a hard look. “Is that true?”

In Docia fashion, she lifted one shoulder. “I also told Noah I didn’t believe we would suit.”

A true statement, if somewhat out of context. “She’s been badgering me since your wedding,” Noah said. “I gave in and we were to leave this morning, but then—” He shrugged. “Well, plans were interrupted.” Another thought occurred to him and he grinned. “ You interrupted, showing up when you did.” Actually, it was Miss Wimbley who’d arrived first, but Lucius had been right on her heels.

Lucius grunted but eyed Docia with a glint of… suspicion? One could hope . Being wed to the daughter of one of England’s most powerful men required delicate handling. Attracting the duke’s ire was not wise, but as usual, Docia was up to her old tricks, stirring up a pot of trouble with no thought to the consequences.

There was another tap at the door and Winfield poked his head in. “Apologies, my lord, Mr. Oshea. But the Duke of Rathbourne has just arrived. Where shall we put him?”

Docia froze and Lucius’s groan matched Noah’s own.

“I suppose it’s too crass to place him in Father’s bedchamber?” Lucius said.

Winfield cleared his throat. “It is prepared, my lord.”

Noah met Lucius’s eyes and the connection they’d shared since Lucius had accepted Julius when they’d been but children stretched between them. Noah nodded.

“That shall suffice,” Lucius said.

Winfield inclined his head. “Very good, my lord.” He ducked back out.

“Well, if the earldom hadn’t hit you at this point, that should do it,” Noah told him with a half-smile and shaking his head.