Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,103

married ten months, so this is hardly an early babe.”

“No, indeed. And the midwife might be wrong, but I can’t count on that. That’s why I stopped here on my way out. Because I need a favor.”

Sheridan cocked his head. “Sadly I have no skills in the area of birthing babies. So I don’t see what sort of favor you could possibly—”

“Do you remember how we said I should be the one to question my Aunt Cora about what she remembers of those two house parties we suspected were attended by my father’s killer?”

“I do indeed.”

Their mother’s five children had finally come to the conclusion that her thrice-widowed status had not been just a tragic confluence of events. Someone had murdered her husbands, including the father of Sheridan and his brother. They suspected it was one of three women, all of whom had been at the house parties going on when the first two husbands had died. So Sheridan and his siblings were engaged in a covert investigation, trying to learn who it had been. To that end, they’d each taken assignments, Grey’s being that he question his Aunt Cora, otherwise known as Lady Eustace, who was no relation to any of the rest of them.

Belatedly, Sheridan realized what the “favor” must be. Damn. “No. God, no. I am not doing that.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to ask,” Grey said.

“I can guess. You want me to question Lady Eustace.”

Grey sighed. “I find it necessary, given the situation.”

“You’ll be back in town soon enough. It can wait until then, can’t it?”

“I don’t know. I honestly have no idea how long I shall have to be in the country.”

Sheridan dragged in a heavy breath. “Yes, but why ask me to do it? I barely know her.”

“The others don’t know her at all,” Grey snapped. “But you’re friendly with Vanessa, and that gives you an excuse.”

Which was precisely why Sheridan didn’t want to do it. Because it meant being around Lady Eustace’s daughter, Miss Vanessa Pryde, who was too attractive for his sanity, with her raven curls and lush figure and vivacious smile.

“I’ve chatted with Vanessa a handful of times,” Sheridan pointed out, although he knew Grey was right. “That hardly makes me ideal for this.”

“Ah, but my aunt and I hate each other. That hardly makes me ideal, since it seems unlikely she’d share her secrets with me.”

“And why should your aunt share them with me?” Sheridan sipped some of his brandy.

“Because you’re an eligible duke. And her daughter is an eligible young lady. Not that I’m suggesting you should even pretend to court Vanessa, but her mother would certainly offer you more confidences if she thought it would snag you.”

“I would never court Vanessa, pretend or otherwise,” Sheridan said. “For one thing, she’s spoiled and impudent, a dangerous combination for a man who won’t ever be able to afford expensive gowns and furs and jewelry for his wife. I’m already barely treading water. A wife like Vanessa would drown me.”

Grey narrowed his gaze. “Vanessa isn’t so much spoiled as determined to get her own way.”

“That’s even worse since it means having constant strife in my marriage.”

“Beatrice and Gwyn are both of that ilk, and so far their husbands are quite content. Indeed, I rather like being married to a woman with spirit who knows what she wants.”

“Good for you,” Sheridan clipped out. “But you have money, and I don’t. Nor does your wife have an absurd fixation on that damned poet Juncker.”

“Ah, yes, Juncker.” Grey stroked his chin. “I doubt that’s anything more than a girlish infatuation.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard her babble on about Juncker’s ‘brilliant’ plays plenty of times. She once told me some nonsense about how Juncker wrote with the ferocity of a ‘dark angel,’ whatever that means. Frivolous chit has no idea about what sort of man she should marry.”

“But you know, I take it,” Grey said with an odd glint in his eye.

“I do, indeed. She needs a fellow who will curb her worst excesses, who will help her channel her youthful enthusiasm into more practical activities. Sadly, she has romantic notions that will only serve her ill, and those are leading her into wanting a fellow she thinks she can keep under her thumb, so she can spend her fortune as she pleases.”

“Juncker,” Grey said.

“Who else? You know perfectly well she’s been mooning after him for a couple of years at least.”

“And that bothers you?”

The query caught Sheridan off guard. “Certainly not.” When Grey smirked