AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“As you wish,” she dismissed. “But I believe the duke was just leaving?” Her gaze challenged him to refuse.
He easily met that challenge. “Ibelieve you were about to offer me refreshment so that we can finish our conversation.”
“If I might speak…?” Peggy, now standing in the doorway, broke in on the ocular battle of wills currently taking place between Elizabeth and the duke. “I chanced upon a gentleman as he approached the house. He asked, if His Grace is here, if he might speak with him. He said it’s important.”
Bristol scowled before reluctantly breaking the deadlock of their gazes to turn toward Peggy. “What did this gentleman look like?”
The maid tilted her head. “Aged fifty or perhaps a little older. Craggy, with lots of gray in his hair. He’s a bit rough-looking, but he spoke politely enough to me.”
“Would you be so kind as to take Christopher and ask the butler to bring the other gentleman to us here?” Bristol requested as he bent to place the little boy gently down until he once again stood on the carpet. “We will see each other again later,” he promised when the boy pouted. “For now, your mama and I need to speak with our visitor.”
“You should not make promises to a child you cannot keep,” Elizabeth chided sharply as soon as she and Bristol were alone together.
A part of her was deeply disturbed by his use of the word “our.” Disturbed, but there was also the thrill of butterflies fluttering in her chest at the thought of there ever being an “our” between her and Sterling.
She might be angry with him, furious, in fact, and much as she might wish it were otherwise, it did not seem to have lessened her other feelings for him.
Feelings he had moments ago seemed about to admit he felt for her…
“I assure you, I never break my promises,” Sterling stated firmly now.
There was no time for Elizabeth to question him further on the subject as her parents’ butler showed in the second visitor of the morning. The gentleman was exactly as Peggy had described him. But, Elizabeth noted when he looked at her, he also had very kind blue eyes.
“Lady Marshall.” He offered her a formal bow.
“Elizabeth, this is Mr. James Stanley,” Bristol introduced briskly. “Stanley was formerly valet to my friend, the Duke of Plymouth, and he is now helping us to investigate that gentleman’s murder.”
She nodded acknowledgment of the introduction, even if she had absolutely no idea how this man had known to look for Bristol at her parents’ home. She did not have long to wait for an explanation.
“I am very sorry to intrude in this way, my lady, but His Grace was not at home when I called at Bristol House, and the matter I have to discuss with him is urgent.” He turned to Bristol. “Your household staff did not know where you were, but when I call upon the Duke of Lincoln, his valet told me that the duke was at his club, partaking of luncheon with the Duke of Melborne. The second gentleman told me that he thought I might find the Duke of Bristol here.” Mr. Stanley seemed relieved to have finished his convoluted explanation.
An explanation which had, unfortunately, brought about a return of Elizabeth’s anger.
Bristol had already admitted to her that he haddiscussedher with his friends, the Duke and Duchess of Melborne. No doubt theduke, in turn,had now discussed her with the Duke of Lincoln too.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sterling knew by the sudden glitter in Elizabeth’s eyes and the tightening of her jaw that she was not pleased by Stanley’s explanation for being here.
He, on the other hand, sincerely hoped that Stanley had sought him out because he had discovered something which might help to eliminate Lord Thomas Marshall as a possible suspect for Plymouth’s murder.
Not that it would make the slightest difference to how Sterling felt about Elizabeth if there should prove to be no such evidence. She, after all, was not her husband, nor could she be held accountable for his deeds.
Yes, it might prove awkward in future with the other Ruthless Dukes if Elizabeth’s husband was shown to be Plymouth’s murderer. But the possibility of damaging those long friendships would not affect Sterling’s love for Elizabeth. Or his determination to keep her and Christopher safe, whether it was at her side or otherwise.
The way in which Christopher had run to him so trustingly a few minutes ago had made it clear to Sterling that he now loved both mother and son. That nothing, not even if Marshall should prove guilty of killing Plymouth, would ever change that.
Sterling was not only a man of his word, he was also a man whose affections, once given, did not falter. He loved his cousin Gwen and her family. His affections for the other Ruthless Dukes had always been steadfast.
But he would feel no hesitation in choosing Elizabeth and her son over all those friendships, if it became necessary.
“Tell us what it is you needed to discuss with me so urgently, Stanley,” he invited. “You may speak freely, I have no secrets from Lady Marshall in this matter,” he encouraged when Stanley glanced toward her.
“Would you care for some refreshment first, Mr. Stanley, after what appears to have been your mad dash about London?” Elizabeth offered, seeming to have remembered her manners.
Stanley grinned. “His Grace, the Duke of Melborne, was kind enough to give me a glass of brandy before I left his club to come here.”
“Ah.” Elizabeth smiled. “Then a cup of tea would only be mild fare in comparison.”
