Page 25 of A Duchess of Mystery (The Mismatched Lovers #3)

She shook her head at poor Dora. “Nonsense. You will need a new gown for this splendid ball Richard is to host or people will think him a penny-pincher. And you cannot have another black one. There is to be no arguing.” As Dora opened her mouth, Isabella held up a hand to silence her and fixed her gaze on Richard.

“And you will need a new suit of evening clothes. You can’t keep on wearing Marcus’s old things.

I confess, I would rather give them all away than have to keep seeing you in them.

Just the sight of them sends a shiver down my spine.

And besides which, you are nowhere near as portly as he was so the clothes rather hang on you.

” She flashed a wicked smile. “And you already look enough like Marcus to make me quite uncomfortable without going about the castle in his clothes for evermore.”

Richard shrugged. “I have little else, I’m afraid. An army officer on campaign doesn’t have much use for evening wear. His uniform has to do him.” Especially not a Rifle Brigade officer.

Isabella bestowed a suddenly much sweeter smile on him, and changed her tune.

“I am not criticizing you, dear Coz. I quite understand that you’re not as used to tricking yourself out in as much finery as we are.

And I know you haven’t had time yet to even poke your nose through the door of a tailor’s shop.

” She tilted her head to one side as though deep in thought.

“Of course, it would be better for you to go to Weston’s in Bond Street, but think how tiresome it would be to have to travel up to Town just to be fitted for a coat and breeches.

No, there is a perfectly adequate tailor in Newbury we can take you to.

Chalke’s. I know Mr. Sanders goes there, and he always looks the ticket, for a land agent, of course. ”

Dora, throwing an annoyed frown at Isabella perhaps for her dismissal of Mr. Sanders’s position and sartorial appearance, pursed her lips and frowned at Richard, who was wondering if it would be quite the thing to be decked out in clothes more suited to a land agent for his debut ball.

“If you are sure this is what you want, Diccon. I mean, the ball, not the new suit of clothes from Mr. Chalke. I suppose you and Bella may have your way. Far be it from me to stand in the path of either of you. Not that it would do me any good as Isabella would run me down.” She shot another frown at Isabella.

“But let it be known that I still feel it is too soon after… after Marcus’s death to be celebrating with a ball, even if half the countryside is keen to make your acquaintance.

” The worried frown was back, and something more he couldn’t put his finger on.

Isabella patted Dora’s hand in a conciliatory fashion.

“You are a silly, sometimes. Rest assured. No one will care what we wear. Well, they won’t care what you wear.

They’ll all be looking at what I wear, of course.

They always do. But other things will distract them this time.

Not only will they be keen to meet with Richard and snare him for one of their daughters, but they’ll also be full of morbid curiosity to see the house Marcus died in.

And besides which, we don’t want them thinking we have something to hide.

” Her smile, this time, was brittle. Despite her words, she was definitely hiding something.

Dora gripped Isabella’s hand. “Won’t they want to poke about and be nosy?

I couldn’t bear that.” Her voice trembled, unshed tears glistened in her eyes and her frown deepened.

Her face had paled so much, she looked as though she might be about to faint.

“Do you think it might be a good idea to lock the library to prevent gawkers sneaking in there looking for…for things…like…?” Her voice trailed off, and she had to visibly pull herself together.

“We don’t want them doing that, do we?” She fixed her gaze on her clasped hands in her lap as though afraid to meet anyone’s eyes.

Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper.

“That would not at all be a good thing.” She twisted her fingers together.

Did she know something too? In fact, did everyone in this house have a secret about that night they weren’t sharing? From Isabella down to the servants? Richard looked from one woman to the other but was none the wiser.

Isabella squeezed Dora’s hand and gave a shrug that was as artificial as her smile.

“Who cares? There’s nothing for them to see.

Let them come and look in the corners and they’ll come to the right conclusions.

That Marcus took his own life while in one of his black humors.

That will kill the rumors as dead as he is. ”

That both of them were well aware of the rumors surrounding his cousin’s untimely death was obvious.

But what was it they weren’t divulging? Instinct told him they probably knew a lot more than they were letting on.

Should he investigate further? If he did, he might find something he didn’t like.

So, instead, he slapped on a bland smile.

“It’s settled then. No further arguments.

You ladies choose a date and begin with the preparations.

So long as I don’t have to do any of them, I shall be happy. I delegate it all to you.”

Isabella visibly brightened at that. “Splendid. And the first thing we must attend to is our apparel. Once that is ordered, we can get on with the rest of our preparations. Can’t we, Dora?”

Dora glanced up from her study of her hands, the nervous expression on her face surely not due only to what the local gentry would think of them holding a ball whilst supposedly still in mourning. Something else lurked there in her wide, frightened eyes, unspoken, yet tangible.