Page 69 of Tempting the Marquess

“Indeed. If you had seen the two of them at Mary’s soiree, you’d know what I mean. He was very attentive. And all I can say is thank God for small mercies, I’ve been worried about the lad for some timenow.”

“Worried about Standish? Why? Richard’s boy is a chip off the old block, isn’the?”

Havenhurst glanced left and right and moved closer. “That is what concerned me. William following in Richard’s footsteps and being so overly dedicated to crown and country intrigues that he’d also fall into a dark abyss he couldn’t escape from. Andrew and I both warned Richard, many times, to stop crusading and concentrate on his family and responsibilities to the title, but the damned fool ignored both ofus.”

Icy claws wrapped themselves around William’s heart and gouged viciously. What in the bloody hell was Havenhurst talking about? Father had been the perfect marquess who’d cared for his wife, taught his son, tended his lands, made excellent speeches in the House, and travelled occasionally. Nothingmore.

“What do you mean, follow in his footsteps?” he made himself ask slowly, in Underwood’s nasal drawl. “Richard had no ties to Whitehall.”

“Not officially, no. But until the day he died he worked to stamp out treasonous activity. It kills me to say it, but I’ve never thought young William was orphaned by accident. I believe Richard’s work led to his and Sophia’s deaths.”

“No! But...the highwaymen...” he said hoarsely, as images from that excruciating day blasted through his mind like cannon fire. The screams as the carriage plunged over the bank. Those cruel, pitiless silver eyes which had mocked him before he’d been pistol-whipped. The sight and scent of a river of blood...

“Highwaymen?” replied Havenhurst grimly. “Or assassins?”

“You’re wrong,” William snarled, his right fist jerking up to wrap itself around the baron’s cravat. “So very, very wrong. How dare you impugn my fa...friend’s memory in this way. Richard was the best of men. He would never have put his family’s safety at risk. Ever!”

“David?” Havenhurst croaked, his eyes bulging as his face turned purple. “What on earth?”

With a muffled, dark curse he let his father’s friend go. Had it really come to this? Bad enough he’d jeopardized this new mission once already because he couldn’t stay in character at the theater, now he was assaulting an old man in public over a piece of nonsense theory. He would have known if his father had been involved in covert investigations. White would have said something, even more so had his father been murdered due to his work. Especially if they were still fighting the same battle against treason, against the same black-hearted bastards.

Surely.

“Forgive me, Harry,” he muttered, stepping back and attempting an Underwood smile. “Too much fresh air and sunshine and not nearly enough brandy and women make me a cantankerous oldfool.”

Havenhurst let out a long, slow breath and adjusted his neck cloth. “Well, let’s find you a drink and a woman at once. But definitely not a married woman. Do you know I heard some twaddle that a gentleman brained you with a broom, shot you, and threatened to feed your entrails to the ducks because he caught you balls-deep in his ladywife?”

“Geese,” William replied with a shudder, closing his eyes briefly. “It was a flock of geese. But all untrue, as you can plainlysee.”

“Indeed, indeed. Do I need to say no sweet young blondesalso?”

“No sweet young blondes, Lord Havenhurst?” interrupted a laughing voice, and he glanced sideways to see Aunt Jane, Caroline, and Samantha all staring at them curiously. “We three are vastly disappointed at such discrimination!”

“Of course he didn’t refer to you, Janey darling,” William laughed, kissing her hand as the baron gave him a meaningful look and excused himself with a low bow. “Or your scrumptious younger sisters here either.”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a fond smile. “A line for every occasion. Perhaps you might act the gentleman for a bit and escort us to afternoontea?”

“Act like a gentleman? Good God, you ask the earth, the sun and the moon, my love. But for you, I suppose I could. As long as you never tell anyone, mind.”

In reality, he didn’t even know if he could manage one foot in front of the other, let alone conversation after the lightning bolt Havenhurst had just stabbed through his chest. But he took Jane’s arm, and led the three women away from HydePark.

* * *

The tea shopwas warm and busy, and the four of them were soon settled at a wooden table with plates of cream cakes, apple and nutmeg pastries, and lemon curd tarts to go with their steaming cups of fragranttea.

Yet again, Samantha found herself picking at her food. For some unknown reason her lips wouldn’t form words in front of David Underwood today, at least not with an audience, and she listened more than participated in the conversation as he laughed and teased Aunt Jane and Caroline, all while shooting her the odd puzzled glance. When they returned out into the warm afternoon sunshine, she nearly stumbled over her own feet when he deliberately took her arm, leaving the other two to walk a few steps behind.

“Did you enjoy the refreshments, mydear?”

“I did indeed, Mr. Underwood,” Samantha replied politely as they walked back toward Hyde Park where Aunt Jane’s carriage waited to take them home. “Sweets are a weakness of mine, I’m afraid.”

“Uncle David, pet. But not as much as Lady Westleigh, though. While I never object to a little hand-stroking, I thought she might snap my fingers clean off when I reached for the last cream cake. Naturally I conceded defeat immediately—only a fool comes between a lady and her heart’s desire.”

Samantha’s lips curved into a smile. “Very wise, sir. Caro—Lady Westleigh—is, ah, particularly attached tocake.”

“Another of her many charms. Can’t abide women who eat like sparrows, all skin and bones. Ladies should have bosoms and bottoms and hips like the good Lord intended.”

Samantha coughed to halt an inappropriate giggle. This man truly was an irredeemable rogue. “Hasn’t the weather been lovely today? So warm and sunny.”