he introduced proudly. “Bethany, this is Lord Julius Soames, the Earl of Andover, and a very close friend of our Prince Regent.”
Confirming Metford was indeed as much of a social whore in the country as he was in London!
Julius bit back his contempt for the other man as he turned to give James’s sister a formal bow. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Bethany.”
She curtseyed prettily. “My lord.”
“Correct me if I am wrong, but I do not recall the two of us ever meeting in London.” At nineteen, Bethany was several years past the usual age of Coming Out.
“I never go to London, much preferring to reside in the country all year round.”
Julius controlled his surprise. “Oh?”
“I believe London to be a violent and lawless place,” she dismissed before turning to her uncle. “Shall I ring for Lacey and ask him to bring another cup and also instruct him to prepare a bedchamber for His Lordship?”
“And my valet, if you please,” Julius put in softly. “My grooms shall remain at the inn to take care of the horses, but I cannot do without the services of my valet.” He could, as it happened, having spent many times, often for months, taking care of himself during his many covert visits to France during the war years. Besides, he was a grown man and perfectly capable of dressing and shaving himself. But he knew this foppishness was what Metford would expect from him, and Julius also required a way of ensuring James’s presence on the estate.
Bethany smiled warmly. “Of course.”
“What a wonderful hostess you are,” Metford complimented.
There was, as James had told him, a visible affection between uncle and niece, even if it was a tad overly sweet for his taste. Certainly, Metford showed none of his usual pomposity when it came to his niece.
Julius assumed Bethany’s aversion to London as being a violent and lawless place was connected to the fact she believed her brother to have been murdered whilst visiting there with their uncle ten years ago.
How would she feel once she learned that the uncle, who appeared to dote on her, was responsible for having paid several thugs to murder her brother?
All questions, now that Metford had predictably made the invitation for Julius to stay at Ipswich Park, which could be adequately addressed once he and James were safely ensconced in the household.
Julius observed the butler as Bethany gave him suitable instructions for their guest’s comfort and that of his manservant. Lacey was possibly aged in his early forties, so probably far too young to have been butler here ten years ago. Which no doubt numbered him as being amongst the new household servants engaged after Adrian Metford assumed the title.
James hadn’t recognized the landlord at the inn, nor had the landlord known him. Possibly because James had been too young to frequent the place when he lived in the area, or because the landlord was also new.
Metford had, it seemed, covered his tracks well when he ensured there was no one left on the estate who would be able to remember and identify the nephew who had been murdered.
Except Bethany, of course.
Would she recognize Julius’s valet as being her long-dead brother?
Or would those intervening years convince her that, even if she should see a similarity, she had to be imagining things because her brother was dead?
It was to be hoped it would be the latter until James and Julius had the evidence to expose Metford for the charlatan and murderer he was.
Chapter Three
“I believe I shall wear the cream lace gown for dinner this evening,” Bethany requested of her maid after looking through the many gowns hanging in her wardrobe. She might choose not to visit London or enter Society, but a seamstress in the village was able to make the fashionable clothes Bethany saw in the magazines her uncle had delivered to her here. “And the pearl earbobs and matching hair combs.” The deep luster of the pearls would perfectly complement the cream lace.
“The Earl of Andover is a very handsome gentleman,” her maid commented eagerly as she helped Bethany disrobe for her bath. “His valet arrived from the village a short time ago, and he’s very handsome too.”
“Really, Jane,” she chided ruefully. “The earl would think we are nothing but two country yokels if he were to overhear us waxing lyrical about his looks and that of his valet.” Bethany had a feeling the arrogant and haughty earl—and yes, very handsome!—was well aware