Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,81
would make a most excellent member of SLAR if only her lady’s maid could go to balls. “How do you come by such information?” Guinevere asked, intrigued.
Ballenger flushed the color of a ripe berry. “Your father speaks very loudly, my lady, and I could not help but hear your brother and father once discussing the marquess and an apparent wager.” She paused and gave Guinevere a look that could only be described as pointed.
“Oh my,” Guinevere said.
“What wager?” both Vivian and Frederica demanded at once.
Guinevere quickly told them of what Asher had told her about the wager.
“Kilgore is a blackhearted rogue!” Vivian exclaimed.
“I hardly think you can call a man who sits on the board of an orphanage a blackhearted rogue,” Frederica said, matter-of-fact. “I would think one would have to conclude him simply a rogue.”
Guinevere had to agree. Kilgore had turned out to be much more complex than she had ever thought him. She suspected the man had more layers than an onion. “When was this day that my father was speaking with Huntley?”
Ballenger appeared to be considering the question for a moment, and then she said, “I believe it was right before we departed for the house party. Your brother stormed through the halls, which did stir my curiosity.”
“Naturally,” Guinevere said.
“I might have moved closer to the door to position myself better to hear… God above, forgive me.”
Guinevere waved a dismissive hand. “I’m certain God has forgiven the transgression already. Go on.”
“Your brother was at White’s and had been glancing back through the wager books to find something from years before. He did not say why.”
“No matter,” Guinevere replied.
“In so doing, he discovered the aforementioned wager, and I believe he told your father he had come home to get his pistols to challenge Kilgore to a duel.”
“Duels are illegal!” Vivian exclaimed.
“Don’t be a dullard, Viv,” Frederica said, elbowing Vivian, who did sometimes seem to misplace her common sense. “Men know duels are illegal, but they engage in them secretly because men are led by foolish pride.”
The statement immediately made Guinevere think of Asher. She had once wounded his pride, possibly his heart, and instead of talking to her, he had kissed Elizabeth and snatched their future from them. But the truth was, she might have done the same thing had she been in his position. And that was her primary trouble. She had always thought more like a man than a woman.
“Men are also led by the desire for power,” Vivian retorted, giving Frederica a superior look.
“Do not squabble,” Guinevere chided, sensing that her sisters were headed that way. To Ballenger, she said, “I presume since Huntley has not been wounded in the past week, at least not to my knowledge, that my father dissuaded him.”
“Yes, my lady. If I recall correctly, your father told your brother that he suspected Kilgore was going to be dealt with shortly by the Duke of Carrington, and if Carrington failed to show Kilgore his fist—I believe that’s what he said—your father would personally do it after the next board meeting for the orphanage, as they both sat on the board.”
She didn’t understand at all. According to Ballenger, her father’s talk with her brother had occurred before Guinevere had been caught with Asher, which meant her father should have had no reason to think that Asher would deal with Kilgore, let alone even be in Guinevere’s life. As far as her father had known, Guinevere had not talked to Asher in five years. Her thoughts drifted to her father saying that Asher’s father had come to see him and the purposely evasive answer he had given when Asher had remarked on the strangeness of it all. It seemed to her that the dangling strings had to connect in some way, but she could not imagine how.
For a moment she contemplated approaching her father, but she did not want to put Ballenger in jeopardy if her father questioned how Guinevere had known of the conversation between her father and brother. She could lie and say she herself had overheard them, but in her experience, lies created a web that was entirely too easy to get caught in. Not to mention her father’s response earlier to being questioned left her little hope he’d supply information now.
Before she could contemplate it further, her bedchamber door swung open to reveal her mother standing in the doorway.
Mama frowned as she swept her gaze over the lot of them. “What is this?”