Page 9 of Love, the Duke (Say I Do #3)

C HAPTER 9

MAN’S PRACTICAL GUIDE TO APPREHENDING A THIEF

SIR BENTLY ASHTON ULLINGSWICK

Don’t let the suspect know you’re watching him.

Ophelia had attended several afternoon card games but never one as lavish as the Southperrys. The perfectly groomed grounds served as a backdrop for the vibrant spring flowers, shrubs, and trees. Guests entered by passing through a carved wooden arch that had been painted the same shade of blue as the sky and decorated with ivy. Urns filled with fragrant, colorful blooms bordered the stone-lined pathway that everyone took to their assigned tables.

Ladies were beautifully dressed in their finest visiting gowns of crepe, silk, or lightweight muslin. Their matching bonnets and hats were decorated with satin ribbons, netting, or a bit of organdy splashed around the band. Gentlemen cut dashing figures in their afternoon coats, white shirts, and neckcloths, with a palette of different colorful waistcoats.

Lord and Lady Southperry had managed to choose a beautiful day to hold their party. Cloudless skies and warm sunshine made a perfect canopy. The spacious garden was dotted with several white-linen-draped tables with two men and two ladies sitting at each, playing their choice of whist, cribbage, or speculation while quietly chatting. The chaperones and mothers who had escorted all the young ladies to the party had their own area of the lawn to pamper themselves while they watched and waited.

Ophelia stared at the cards in her gloved hands, but her mind was on the duke. She had wondered, worried even, that he might be at the party. Now that everyone was seated and the games had begun, she could rest easy and concentrate on what she had come to London to do without worrying about him looking over her shoulder. Or following her.

She saw the challenges of her quest being so much easier to meet if only she had his aid, but she could manage without him. Still, he probably knew Lord and Lady Southperry quite well and could easily slip into their book room unnoticed and peek at the bookshelves. But no, he couldn’t be bothered. He had made up his mind and she had made up hers. Already, she had planned for the reason she would need to go inside the house in a few minutes and look for the precious sacrament herself.

For the short time Ophelia was in the vestibule removing her wrap, she’d purposefully chatted casually with the servant attending the ladies as they arrived and had found out exactly where the book room was. The house wasn’t as large as the Duke of Wyatthaven’s, so all should go well. She hoped to be in and out in a flash with only her being the wiser.

“Are you still thinking about your next play, Miss Stowe?” the rather handsome, but impatient Mr. Wilbur Sawyer asked.

“Don’t worry about him, Miss Stowe,” Lord Gagingcliffe offered immediately in her defense, while giving the younger man a disapproving stare. “Take your time and play your card when you’re ready. There’s no limit on how long we must wait.”

Ophelia smiled at the older, good-natured gentleman. “Thank you, but I’ve made up my mind.” She laid down the seven of spades and smiled pleasantly at the younger Mr. Sawyer. “I’m sorry it took me so long to decide, but the sun is so bright today, for a moment, I was having difficulty seeing the cards.”

The beautiful olive-skinned Miss Georgina Bristol sat opposite Ophelia and had been monopolizing Mr. Sawyer’s attention like a fledgling attending her first ball while almost completely ignoring the man her father wanted her to consider marrying.

“Are you feeling faint, Miss Stowe?”

“Not at all, my lord,” Ophelia quickly responded to the baron, lifting her chin and breathing in deeply. “I’m quite splendid. After the cold, dreary days earlier in the week, I think the sunshine is refreshing and heavenly.”

“But Lord Gagingcliffe is right, Miss Stowe,” Georgina added with a concerned expression. “Some ladies, such as you, are fairer and more delicate when it comes to the sun. Most can’t stay outside very long even when wearing a hat with a wide brim.”

Ophelia rededicated herself to her hand and said, “So good of you to remind me. I shall bear that in mind and be sure to take a respite if needed. Now, I believe it’s your turn, Mr. Sawyer.”

“Forgive me, Miss Stowe, but I played while you were discussing the sun.” He picked up his drink and gave Georgina a smile from behind his glass, which she returned.

It was easy to understand why Georgina would find Mr. Sawyer more pleasing to look at than Lord Gagingcliffe. He cut a fine figure for a man and had a roguish appeal most any young lady would be drawn to. While the baron wasn’t as young, handsome, or as strongly built, he was pleasant. And clearly both gentlemen had their eyes on Georgina.

“That is a striking signet ring you are wearing, Mr. Sawyer,” Ophelia said pleasantly while waiting her turn again. “Has it been handed down through your family or was it made especially for you?”

He smiled as if pleased she noticed, and he took the time to admire the ring on his little finger too. “It has been passed down through our family for more than one hundred years now.”

“Oh, my. That is a long time to have preserved something so small which can easily be misplaced or lost. Does anyone in your family enjoy collecting artifacts to add to your family’s collection?”

He gave her a curious look. “Not that I know, but it really isn’t something I’d be asking anyone about. Most everything in our family has been handed down for generations. Perhaps that makes all of them artifacts.”

“Hmm.” She smiled and turned to Lord Gagingcliffe. “How about your family, my lord? Any traditions of someone handing down various objects, such as rings, snuffboxes, figurines, or perhaps artifacts of some kind?”

The baron chuckled. “Like Mr. Sawyer’s family, we have too many pieces that have been passed down through the years to even know. I can see where you, being a vicar’s daughter, would be interested in such traditions.”

“But we are not, Miss Stowe,” Georgina said in an overly sweet voice and with a bored expression. “It’s your turn.”

“Oh, yes, you’re right. It must be the sun keeping me off my game today. Thank you for reminding me.”

Ophelia made her play and then looked at her cards again without really seeing them. She didn’t like having to question the gentlemen about their family’s habits of collecting or not collecting objects, but she had to. Perhaps along the way an innocently worded question would lead her to hearing about someone who indulged in religious relics.

Three games of cards and a glass of champagne later, the ringing of a bell sounded in the distance, the hostess’ way of signaling they were to finish the hand they were playing and not start another. Mr. Sawyer teased Ophelia that she now had a time limit on how long she could hold her cards and wait to play her hand. She merely gave him an acceptable grin but was thankful when the second bell sounded and the gentlemen rose, said their goodbyes, and moved on to their next assigned table.

While the men were moving about, the servers came around with silver trays offering dainty confections, delicacies, and fresh glasses filled with champagne.

Georgina reached across the table and laid her gloved hand on top of Ophelia’s and dreamily cradled her chin on her slender fingers. “Don’t you think Mr. Sawyer is simply divine?”

“He is most handsome when he smiles.” Ophelia paused and then finished by saying, “At you.”

“I know.” Georgina’s breathy sigh embodied her besotted feelings for the young man. “I was so tempted to rub my foot up and down his leg.”

Almost choking on the champagne she’d just sipped, Ophelia coughed. “I don’t think that would have been a good idea.”

“Why not?” Georgina asked innocently. “Perhaps you don’t know, but I’ve heard it is a safe way for a young lady to let a gentleman know she’s interested in him and would like for him to call on her.”

“No, I haven’t heard that before. Did your mother tell you about this approach?”

“Of course not. I would never mention this to my mother, nor would she to me.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t try. It seems a risky way to get a gentleman’s attention. I would be afraid he might question the reason you were doing it and possibly think you wanted to see him for inappropriate purposes?”

“I suppose a man could think that. Katherine told me about this after you left the ball the other night. She heard—”

“Good afternoon, Miss Bristol, Miss Stowe.”

Ophelia knew that voice. Glancing behind her in a rush, she saw the Duke of Hurstbourne joining them. His compelling presence caused her heart to lurch with apprehension. He wasn’t present for the first round of games. She was sure.

Was he there to keep an eye on her whereabouts? She didn’t know, but manners dictated that she and Georgina rise from their chairs and curtsey. But in their haste to do so, they bumped into each other, which made Georgina lose her footing. As if the stumble had been practiced between the two of them, the duke reached out and kept Georgina from falling. As he drew away from her friend his gaze met Ophelia’s and held briefly. Then the heat of his palm lightly touched the back of her shoulder as if to make sure she was all right too. The twinkle in his eyes redirected every thought and feeling in her being.

The duke’s unexpected arrival threw her out of sorts. Focusing intently on his face, she barely listened to what he was saying until she heard the name of the man standing with him: Mr. William Halaway. And much to her delighted surprise, the duke and his cousin would be playing the next round of cards with them. Ophelia couldn’t believe one of her suspects was at hand, ripe to answer any questions she had. She could barely manage to hold in her joy.

She could have thrown her arms around the duke’s neck and kissed him. On the cheek. Or maybe the lips. Her stomach tightened at the thought, and she quickly brushed it aside.

He’d brought his cousin to the party and, somehow, managed to secure them both a seat at her table. Unable to rein in her broad smile, she pinned her gaze on the duke when she was once more seated on her chair, her mind in a scatter of thoughts.

Ophelia wanted some way to let the duke know how happy she was as they made themselves comfortable in their chairs, but that was impossible. Georgina picked up the conversation with gusto, unabashedly telling the duke what an honor it was that he had joined her for the next round. She couldn’t have been showier if she’d been a prized songbird twittering her good fortune on a crowd in the park.

The duke remained attentive to her flirtation, and odd as it was, Ophelia couldn’t help but wonder if Georgina was going to rub her foot up and down the duke’s leg. And if she was brazen enough to do so, would he accept her invitation? Best Ophelia put thoughts about that out of her mind and center her attention on the other man at the table.

“Would you mind being the first player to shuffle the deck for us, Your Grace?” Georgina asked in a voice as sweet as nectar, while she slid the whist deck toward the duke. Apparently, the sparks that had been flying between her and poor Mr. Sawyer were a distant memory.

“Not at all, Miss Bristol.” The duke’s features pulled into a disarming smile, sending Ophelia’s pulse racing even if his smile was intended for another. She felt as if she were melting snow in the warm sun. With a tingling shiver, she composed herself to address the matter at hand. She owed him her gratitude but couldn’t say that in front of the others.

She couldn’t resist a glance at him, and, in a low whisper, she noted, “Very clever of you, Your Grace.”

“The addition of my cousin?” he answered just as softly. “I thought so too. I knew you would approve.”

The ease with which he picked up her implication delighted her. No doubt he could play any game with marked expertise. He gave her a light nod and a knowing grin as his fingers rippled through the cards.

Perplexed, Georgina asked, “What was clever?”

At first, Ophelia dismissed Georgina’s question with a shrug and focused her full attention on the duke’s hands. Though he shuffled the cards with the same technique most any man would, Ophelia took the opportunity to continue the impetuous word dance she and the duke found themselves in.

“The way His Grace is shuffling the deck is very clever.”

“Yes, it is superb,” she gushed.

Seeming unable to curb his wink, he boasted, “I do have a clever trick or two up my sleeve from time to time, Miss Stowe.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she answered, and was pleased to say it. “I hope we get to see more than one.”

“I’ve only just started, Miss Stowe.” He chuckled and kept shuffling the cards.

“Did I understand His Grace to say you’ll only be in London for the Season, Miss Stowe?”

Mr. Halaway’s innocent question distracted Ophelia from her t ê te- à -t ê te with the duke, and she gave the man she really needed to talk to her attention. His hair was the color of dried winter wheat, and his small eyes were a bluish green. Weathered, yet genuine, his countenance offered pure sincerity.

From the book she’d read, she formed a mental picture of what a thief might look like, but Mr. Halaway certainly didn’t appear the way she’d imagined. He looked more like one of the angelic men singing in the chorus at church. She wondered if she had wanted to pin guilt on someone so badly, she was jumping on the slightest of possibilities.

“Staying in London?” she repeated part of his question. “That is what Maman is saying now. But one never knows. It’s safe to say we don’t have a certain date that we must leave. How about you, Mr. Halaway? Do you reside in Town all year or do you have a summer home?”

“I am mostly London-bound but do a bit of traveling from time to time to stay with family and friends.”

“That sounds lovely,” she said while forming her next question. “Any particular area you go?”

The duke cleared his throat with exaggeration, jerking her attention to him. The corners of his mouth deepened with annoyance. She took it to mean he wasn’t happy with her questioning his cousin, but for what other reason would he have brought the man to her table?

“I do always enjoy myself when the duke invites me for Christmastide at Hurstbourne. He’s been kind enough to do that since he inherited the title.”

“That is thoughtful of him.”

Georgina, who had her limelight dimmed somewhat when the conversation included Mr. Halaway, vented an impatient sigh and started her own conversation with the duke.

The duke cleared his throat loudly, and Ophelia glanced at him. His brow wrinkled deeper as he started dealing the cards.

“Did I hear you were recently in Wickenhamden?” he asked his affable cousin.

“Yes,” he answered and began picking up his cards.

Shifting to the edge of her seat, Ophelia leaned toward him. “Was that for warmer temperatures, a visit with friends, or something else, Mr. Halaway?”

The duke immediately gave her a look that told her he was the one who was to interrogate his cousin, but she wanted to ask questions too. Her tactic would have been more straightforward, to just come out and ask the man what he was doing in Wickenhamden since he lived in London, but knew she couldn’t. That would tip her hand to what she was doing if he was indeed the thief.

“Neither, though both were welcomed,” he answered with a friendly smile as he arranged his cards, seeming more interested in playing his hand than in the conversation.

Was that all he was going to say? She glanced at the duke, and he gave her an I-told-you-so shrug.

Before she could curtail her inquiry, she felt the words break free from her closed lips, “Do you, by chance, know of the Chatham’s chalice that’s held at one of the churches there?”

“Not clever, Miss Stowe. Reckless,” the duke casually leaned in her direction and whispered under his breath as he lined up the cards in his hand.

Ophelia could almost feel the heat of his vexed breath near her cheek as he’d mumbled the words.

But without hesitance, Mr. Halaway offered an easy-mannered reply. “Yes, it’s on the main road through Wickenhamden.”

“Did you by chance stop and see it?” she asked, deciding she wouldn’t look at the duke. She had no doubt he would be scowling at her. She could live without that.

“We tried to and was told the vicar was ailing, so we’ll have to return another time.”

“What made you want to see it, Cousin?” The duke’s mild query put Ophelia’s racing pulse back in order.

Mr. Halaway scoffed with a chuckle. “Nothing. I didn’t go for me. My father’s sister, Aunt Maudine, wanted to see it. I didn’t mind going along to keep her company. She’s taken with historical objects and history. She said it’s been seen by kings and queens through the years. That didn’t mean much to me, but if she wanted to see it, I didn’t mind going along. She’s become more pious in the past couple of years.”

If that story was true, it didn’t sound as if the duke’s cousin had anything to do with the theft. And according to Mrs. Turner, his aunt wasn’t a potential suspect either. The maid was certain the person she saw was a man, but no reason Ophelia couldn’t ask a few more questions.

“That’s interesting, Mr. Halaway,” Ophelia said as she shifted her cards in her hands. “Does she have friends who are also into historical artifacts?”

“There’s a group of ladies, I think, who are into such things.”

“Enough of this uninspiring talk of churches, kings, and artifacts.” Georgina’s voice broke into the conversation with conviction. “It’s making me quite flushed.” She took up her fan and rapidly began cooling her ire. “Lord and Lady Farthingale are having a masked ball in a couple of weeks, and I’m very much looking forward to attending. I have decided to go as Greek Goddess Athena. I’m having a small golden apple made to wear on my shoulder.”

Ophelia’s gaze darted to Georgina. She was smiling sweetly, obviously quite pleased and lightly fanning herself with her widespread cards.

What could anyone say about that admission? The purpose of a masked ball was so no one would know who you were. Obviously, she wanted to make sure the duke knew who she was that night. And that made Ophelia wonder if her new friend was currently seducing the duke with her foot under the table. And then Ophelia wondered if perhaps Georgina had rubbed Mr. Sawyer’s leg with her foot too?

“I’m sure you’ll be enchanting to all the young bucks, Miss Bristol.” The duke slowly turned to Ophelia. Merriment fixed in his gaze. “What about you, Miss Stowe? Perhaps you’d like to tell us what costume you will be wearing to the masquerade.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be attending, Your Grace. However…” She paused and gave him a confident smile. “I’ve been told I have a very clever disguise.”

Ophelia saw a brief sparkle of admiration flash in the duke’s eyes and he chuckled attractively before paying his attention to the game. He could be so delightful when he wanted to be. And when he was, she enjoyed him immensely.

Well, perhaps she enjoyed him a little even when he was trying to tell her what she should and shouldn’t do. He was definitely a rascal of the highest order in either case.

She picked up her cards and proceeded to have a wonderful time.