would call him a scholar, but he has his pet hobbies.”
That he was playing down their significance to the Duke of Norwich and their effect on his own life was obvious. He might try to dismiss it all as a mere hobby, but I could tell by the set of his shoulders and the manner in which he avoided my gaze that they were not a trifle. It also added a new dimension to Marsdale’s disreputable behavior in the past, as well as the more considerate and serious bent in his demeanor I’d witnessed at times in the wake of the duke’s recent illness.
But we were straying from the point.
“Did your father try to prevent your mother from visiting the Duchess of Bowmont?” I queried, shifting so that the pillow I’d placed at my back pressed higher into the arch of my spine.
He laughed humorlessly. “Oh, he forbade it.” His lips curled into a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But the duke couldn’t be bothered to stir from his study to enforce such an edict, so my mother ignored him. The same way he ignored her twenty-three and three-quarter hours a day.”
And him. Though he didn’t say the words, I could tell from the bitterness that had crept into his voice that his father had ignored him, too. How much more inviting had the Duchess of Bowmont’s large brood seemed in comparison?
I glanced at Gage out of the corner of my eye, suspecting as a fellow only child, he understood far better than me. After all, I’d had an older sister and brother, and often multiple cousins about to keep me company, even when I didn’t wish for it.
Marsdale turned to the side, staring out the window at a slice of the hazy sky. “Unfortunately, she fell ill a short time later. So her rebellion was short-lived. She never recovered.”
“And so you continued her rebellion for her,” I murmured.
He glanced back at me in mild surprise, clearly having never considered the motivation behind his behavior in such a light. This insight appeared to make him uncomfortable, for he uncrossed his legs and tugged at the intricate draping of his neckcloth. “Yes, well, a good idea should never be dismissed.” Though the comment was flippant, his tone of voice did not quite match.
Gage’s fingers tapped against the arm of his chair, perhaps growing impatient with this turn in the conversation. His annoyance with Marsdale had not abated, despite the similarities in their childhood. Gage’s father had also largely been absent from his and his mother’s lives, though that had not necessarily been by choice. As a captain of the Royal Navy, Lord Gage had been ordered to sea to engage in battle, and man the blockade against Napoleon and France. His mother had also fallen ill and remained so for many years, although unbeknownst to anyone at the time, that had been because her maid was poisoning her. Though Gage’s reaction to all of this upon his mother’s death had been quite different, and perhaps therein lay the cause of his irritation. But Gage often forgot, not everyone was as strong as him, or as honorable to their core.
“You obviously remained friends with the Kerrs, then,” he said, steering us back to steadier ground.
“Yes, well, they’re easy to like. Save Traquair, I suppose. He can be a bit of a drag. Richard would make a better duke. He’s a sobersides, but he never rags the others.” Marsdale crossed his legs in the other direction and tipped his head back against the cushions. “Ah, but I suppose that ship has already sailed.”
I assumed he was referring to Lord Traquair’s son, who was next in line to inherit the dukedom should anything happen to his father. Only the death of both heirs apparent could pave the way for Lord Richard to eventually succeed his father as duke.
“What of Lady Helmswick?” I inquired, deciding it was time to stop beating around the bush. “You seem quite close to her as well.”
He studied my features, seeming to search for something, or perhaps merely delaying his answer. His deep brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “You have a naughty mind, Lady Darby.”
“Do I?” I replied doubtfully, refusing to be deterred. “Or am I simply observant?” I gentled my voice. “I see the way you look at her. The way your hand brushes the small of her back when she passes.”
His eyes broke contact with mine yet again, and beyond anything he was or wasn’t