Page 14 of The Duke’s Indecent Scandal (Indecent Dukes #1)

Chapter Thirteen

T iffany

Rather than becoming cruel out of sight of the others, Lady Astrid seemed happy to chat about the house and the weather as Tiffany led her down the hall to the conservatory. It was Tiffany’s second favorite place in the house after the library. Her mother did not approve of her digging in the dirt, so she had to be very careful about when and how often she did so, but she still loved being surrounded by the plants.

“How very lovely,” Lady Astrid said, craning her head to look around. “You have quite an array of flowers.”

“We do. I enjoy breeding the roses,” Tiffany admitted. What she truly enjoyed was that her mother did not mind the results of the new rose colors that came from Tiffany’s efforts, even if she thought their head gardener, Masters, was responsible for them. “Here, I think you might like this one in particular.”

The dark orange color would look very well with Lady Astrid’s day gown. As soon as Tiffany escorted her down the path and the orange rose bush came into sight, Lady Astrid’s face lit up.

“Gorgeous.” She grinned widely. “Orange is my favorite color. Was it that obvious?”

“Just a bit.” Tiffany smiled back at her, finding Lady Astrid’s bold way of speaking to be inspiring. “You are certainly the most daringly colored bird in the flock.”

The jest made Lady Astrid laugh as she released Tiffany’s arm, moving to bend her head over the roses and inhale.

“Lovely,” she said, straightening up again. “Well, as I have gone to the trouble of gaining us some privacy, we should take advantage of it to talk before the others join us.”

Tiffany blinked.

“The others will join us?”

“You think they will not?” Lady Astrid snorted as she took a seat on the wrought-iron bench across the aisle from the roses. She tilted her head at Tiffany. “Then again, you have not been out in Society as much as I. Yes, where one leads, others will follow. I am a leader, and you shall be, too.”

“I will?” Tiffany could not imagine others following her. Lady Astrid frowned, looking at Tiffany as if she thought her daft.

“Of course. You are to be a duchess. They will follow.”

Though Tiffany did not want to contradict Lady Astrid, not when she was being so kind, she could not help but wonder if the lady’s attitude was biased toward her own experiences. She herself had been noting how merely being engaged to Gregory did not garner her the same kind of reaction that Lady Astrid had received.

She must not have done a good job of hiding her emotions, though, because Lady Astrid raised one delicate eyebrow at her.

“I have been a duke’s sister all my life, and no one has ever followed me before,” Tiffany said. Not that anyone had been given much opportunity, but even at home on their country estate, she’d been nearly invisible at her mother’s side. She’d had no friends outside the maids and certainly no suitors.

“Well. We shall see.” Lady Astrid shook her head, appearing amused. “Either way, we shall be duchesses together and to two of the tragic dukes. That is if Drake ever slows down his bedhopping long enough to find his way to the altar with me.” She snorted indelicately, as if deriding the idea that her betrothed might change his ways long enough to complete the wedding ceremony.

“The tragic dukes?” Tiffany echoed, more focused on the nickname than Lady Astrid’s commentary on her betrothed’s rakish ways.

“That is what the ton is calling them. Of course, you might not have heard, seeing as your father was one of the victims.” Lady Astrid sighed. “My condolences, by the way. It cannot be easy losing your father in such a manner, especially when justice seems to be unlikely.”

“Justice?” It felt as though they were having two completely different conversations. Lady Astrid was speaking as though surely Tiffany would understand her, and all Tiffany could do was echo her words because she did not.

Lady Astrid blinked. “Justice for their murders… you did not know.”

“I… murder? Sebastian… my brother told me it was an accident. A tragic one, to be sure, but…” Her voice trailed off again as Lady Astrid shook her head. Suddenly feeling wobbly, Tiffany stepped forward to the bench where Lady Astrid was seated, sitting down hard and with very little grace beside her.

The other lady wrapped a comforting arm around Tiffany’s shoulders.

“Of course, he did. I apologize. I should not have assumed he told you the truth.” Lady Astrid shook her head.

“My father was murdered?” Even as she asked the question, Tiffany felt the truth of it in her heart.

“That is what I think, and I do believe my betrothed and your brother agree with me.” Lady Astrid made a face. “I believe, in part, that is why Drake is dragging his feet about marrying me. Not that he particularly wants to be married, but he’s the protective sort. He does not want to inadvertently put me in danger. Or perhaps I am giving him too much credence. He knows he needs to marry soon, yet he keeps postponing any sort of discussion on the topic.”

As she thought about it, it explained so much of her brother’s behavior. Yes, she could easily see how Sebastian might believe that their father had been murdered but kept that belief from her and their mother.

“Why would he keep it a secret?” she asked, more to herself, though Lady Astrid answered.

“He likely thought he was protecting you,” Lady Astrid replied, rolling her eyes. She reached out and took Tiffany’s hand, which felt very cold in the other lady’s warm one. “I am sorry. I should not have been so abrupt. I am used to being blunt to the point of shocking, it amuses me, but I should have been more circumspect in this instance.”

“It is all right.” A thread of anger was rising in Tiffany’s chest, but it was not directed at Lady Astrid. “Sebastian should have told me.” They had not been close in years, but the murder of one’s father should supersede that. She huffed in annoyance.

“Why is no one speaking of this?”

“For protection, again.” Lady Astrid shook her head. “From what I’ve observed, they are keeping their suppositions to themselves as a group. I’ve been wondering if they have even decided to ignore the possibility, but for my own safety, I am not so sanguine.”

“Your safety?” Blast, she was back to echoing Lady Astrid again.

“Of course. And now yours.” Turning toward Tiffany, Lady Astrid reached out and took Tiffany’s other hand in hers as well, so she was now holding both of them. Her green eyes were somber. “It was one thing as a duke’s sister, but now you are going to be marrying a duke and bearing him an heir. If the reasons the dukes were killed had anything to do with the lineage or the inheritance…”

“We could be in danger, too…” Tiffany breathed out the words as they struck her. “But if that were the motive, why kill so many of them?”

“Perhaps as cover for the misdeed? With so many killed, who is to say who the true target was?” Astrid scowled. “It would take a black heart, indeed, to carry out such a plan, but it is not out of the realm of possibility. The point is we do not know, and therefore, we cannot be assured of our own safety.”

Tiffany felt the pronouncement like a blow to the gut.

Marrying Gregory might be putting her own life in danger. Of course, she knew that bearing children was dangerous, but that was a threat every woman faced. This was different.

Did he know? Did he suspect? Had he thought that through?

Yet, what other honorable choice did he have once he’d ruined her? What honorable choice did she have? None at all.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, again more to herself than to Lady Astrid, but the lady had an answer for that as well.

“We are going to find out why the dukes were killed and by whom,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s the only way to be assured of our safety and that of our future children.”

She made it sound so much easier than it was likely going to be.

Tiffany did not get a chance to process the idea, much less protest, because Lady Astrid proved right on another front. The sound of the door to the conservatory opening was swiftly followed by the chattering of the ladies they’d left behind.

Their moment of privacy was over.

Gregory

What would a group of dukes be called?

A group of birds was a flock, and he’d called a group of debutantes the same thing on occasion. A flock of crows was a murder. What would a group of dukes be? Especially this group of dukes?

“Perhaps an Indecency,” he joked softly to himself, causing Sebastian to give him an odd look. Gregory was not sure his friend had heard what he’d said, though, since he did not inquire further.

They were gathered at Whites in one of the private rooms with their fellow dukes for a meeting of the minds and to discuss the deaths of their fathers. Again. Whether or not he would admit to the letters he’d found threatening his father and the fact that Sebastian thought that several of them had been written by the same hand, he did not know. He wanted to trust his friends, he did… but that did not mean it was the wisest decision.

What if one of them had decided to hasten his inheritance?

Though, even with that prospect, Gregory had a truly difficult time seeing any of them deciding to both hasten their inheritance and do away with so many others simultaneously. Then again, anyone who would murder their own father… He had no reason to regret his father’s death, yet he could not imagine actually committing patricide.

It was a quandary.

“Gregory! Congratulations on your unexpected engagement,” Drake said as soon as he entered the room, spotting Gregory across it and grinning widely with amusement. Since he was usually so dour, it was almost an odd expression to see on his face. “It is the most exciting start to the Season I can remember.”

“Happy to entertain,” Gregory replied, edging slightly away from Sebastian, who was suddenly scowling again. He’d pushed his friend far enough for today, in his estimation, which was really a pity.

Unfortunately, Christian either did not have as good a read on Sebastian’s emotions, or he did not care. He’d been keeping watch at the window, watching the various passersby and keeping up a running commentary on who was out and about for anyone who cared to listen. It had been rather amusing commentary, which Gregory had been half paying attention to.

“Do not forget to congratulate Sebastian, too, for having his sister properly taken care of,” he joked. “Managed to land her a duke and without any effort on his part!”

Sebastian’s scowl deepened as Christian laughed, several of the others chuckling.

“She could have landed a duke, anyway,” Nathanial chimed in from where he was sitting at a table with Matthew, playing a half-hearted game of poker. They were not playing for money, as Nathanial had none, and because no one with any sense of self-preservation for his wallet ever gambled with the Lord of Luck. They were merely playing to pass the time. “I was already thinking about offering for her.”

“I would not have necessarily said yes,” Sebastian retorted with a scowl. “I hope you all know that none of you are good enough for her.”

“If not a duke, then who?” Gregory asked, trying not to show how Sebastian’s words stung. Yes, he’d heard Sebastian’s opinion before, but he did not need to hear it over and over again, especially now that the deed was done.

Sebastian’s lips tightened, the muscle in his cheek popping as he clenched his jaw.

“Do not take it personally,” Nathanial advised before Sebastian could answer, looking up from his cards. “I have sisters who are approaching their debuts far too rapidly, so I understand. The answer is no one. Absolutely no one is good enough for her.”

Ah. Well, that did actually make it better. Especially when Gregory looked at Sebastian for confirmation and Sebastian looked away, unwilling to face the truth in Nathanial’s statement.

As long as his friend did not have some paragon of manhood in mind for Tiffany, and no one was ever going to be to his satisfaction, Gregory could live with that.

The door to the room opened again, admitting the final member of their quorum. Zachary, with a black scowl on his face, stormed into the room. His boots stomped across the floor in a manner that even the thick rug could not entirely muffle the noise.

“All right there, chap?” Matthew asked benignly, raising his eyebrows as Zachary practically threw himself into one of the empty seats at the table.

“Fine.” Zachary’s head swiveled around. “I need a drink. What do we have?”

As if he’d anticipated Zachary’s need, Christian appeared at his side, brandy in hand. Zachary took the crystal snifter from Christian and put it to his lips, throwing his head back and downing it in one go.

“Here now,” Christian objected. “That’s no way to treat a good brandy.”

“I’ll drink the next one slower,” Zachary replied irritably.

“What’s the matter?” Nathanial asked, looking at Zachary, then looking around at the others, trying to find the answer. “What happened?”

“Zachary did not follow my advice and gave his baroness her congé now,” Christian replied, shaking his head ruefully.

“You think it would have been better if I’d waited ‘til I had a bride?” Zachary scoffed. “She’d be even angrier that I strung her along, and she’s already mad enough about that now. She’s flirting with Conyngham—Conyngham!—and Boringdon! Sunderland is circling, too, and you know none of them are serious.”

“Neither were you, apparently,” Drake murmured, taking a sip of his own drink and not blinking when Zachary turned his furious gaze upon him.

“They are rakes. They are likely competing over her attention. They would not offer her any sort of arrangement like I did.”

He did have a point. Those three were part of the same crowd, thick as thieves, and seemed to have no intention of marrying any time soon. Neither did they take long-term lovers, the way Zachary and the baroness had been. They were very like Gregory, in fact.

“If you have ended things with her, you have to let her go,” Christian advised, shaking his head. “You are supposed to be looking for a bride.”

“But she is encouraging the advances of the wrong kind of gentlemen for her!”

“And what do you care?” Christian shook his head. “If you wanted to stay in her bed, you should not have ended the affair.”

Zachary’s face was turning very red, and Christian was not helping in the least. Though they were the only two with long-term mistresses, it was clearly very different arrangements. Christian’s emotions had never been engaged by his actress… Zachary’s obviously were, but Christian was unable to empathize.

Still.

“Christian is right in one regard,” Gregory said, stepping in. “You are supposed to be finding a bride right now. Otherwise, you gave the baroness her congé for naught. Go ask her for her hand if you cannot stand to see her with another.”

“But… she’s a widow.” Zachary’s expression was pained.

“You are going to have to make a decision… if you want a virgin, you need to let the widow go,” Sebastian admonished, shaking his head.

Slumping in his chair, Zachary crossed his arms over his chest rather than answering, moodily staring at the window, even though it was too far away from him to see anything out of it. Clearly, he was not in a state of mind to listen to sense.

Nathanial cleared his throat, placing his cards down on the table in front of him and folding his hands atop them. The nervous energy he was putting off seemed to double as Gregory watched.

“As fascinating as Zachary’s self-induced dilemma is,” Nathanial started to say, ignoring the inappropriate gesture Zachary sent his way, “I asked if we could meet today because I have a confession to make. About my father.”

There was an immediate and stark change in the room as everyone turned their focus on him. Gregory felt his chest tighten. Even before Nathanial spoke, Gregory felt something coming, like a foreboding that hovered around him.

“I have found some letters that were sent to my father,” Nathanial said. He kept his gaze lowered, focused on the table in front of him, unable to look up at any of his friends. Guilt weighed down his voice. Guilt Gregory understood all too well. “Threatening letters. It is very possible that my father is the reason our fathers were killed.”

The very air seemed as though it had been sucked out of the room. Everyone stared at him.

Everyone except Sebastian. He looked at Gregory. Their gazes met, and Sebastian nodded his head.

It is time.

Gregory stepped forward, and everyone looked at him, which was highly unnerving. He reached up to adjust his cravat, moving to sit at the table across from Nathanial.

“Your father was not the only one to receive threatening letters,” he confessed. “I have found some among my father’s effects as well.”

The silence broke as the others all started shouting at once.