Page 38 of The Icy Duke Claims a Bride

“Something wrong, old man?” Alfred smiled quizzically as he closed the door to a small sitting room a short distance from the ballroom, close enough that they could hear the music just starting up.

Hugh realized that he was staring and turned away, taking one of the two seats by the fireplace as Alfred took the other. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about how much you remind me of your uncle William.”

William Fitzroy, Alfred’s uncle, had once been both a family friend and a business partner to Edwin. Affable and kind, he had also been a regular visitor to Redbridge Hall during Jonathan’s time.

Even after Jonathan’s death, William had continued visiting and had written occasionally. He was one of the few individuals whose company young Hugh could bear. Then, ten years ago, adreadful series of financial crises occurred, resulting in the bank calling in the loan William took out and consequently his awful demise.

“Yes, I know. My mother says that quite often,” Alfred said mildly. “At least I can tell from his portrait in the dining room how I will look in twenty years. But I don’t think you’re here to discuss familial likenesses, are you?”

“No,” Hugh admitted. “Although it is about your uncle that I wish to talk.”

Alfred sighed, his face sad but compassionate. “There’s no need, you know. Whatever happened, it had nothing to do with you or the Dowager Duchess of Redbridge. I’m sorry that my mother excluded your whole family from the funeral. She was half mad with grief for her brother, you understand. Uncle William’s widow was even worse. His loss was a great blow to the whole family.”

“A great loss to all who knew him. But you’re thriving in business now, I understand?”

“Thankfully, yes. For my mother’s sake, I stay far, far away from any investments in which Lord Edwin might have an interest, and that strategy seems to serve all of us well. Currently, my firm dealing in luxury stones for construction is flourishing. William’s two sons are grown and working with our Italian and Bulgarian stone suppliers. We provided the stones for the ballroom floor here, for example.”

“Nothing but the best for Lady Tarleton.” Hugh smiled. “I’m glad to hear that you’re prospering, and your nephews and mother, too. I should have written before now, I know.”

“How could you?” Alfred shrugged. “Your grandmother offered our family money as well as condolences when Uncle William died. As you know, my mother was long widowed and dependent on her brother.”

“She did.” Hugh nodded. “It was declined.”

Alfred’s mother, Lady Alice, had married Viscount Deanburgh’s youngest son, Percy Lucas, a man without a fortune who had entered the church. There, he had expired during a particularly emotional sermon, soon after fathering a son. William Fitzroy had subsequently been the mainstay for his sister and her child as well as his own family.

“My mother and Uncle William’s widow refused your family’s money… in the most vehement way. In writing or in person, I doubt you would have received any better reception than your grandmother.”

“The ladies in your family still blame us for William’s death,” Hugh reflected without rancor.

“They blame Lord Edwin,” Alfred corrected him. “You are guilty only by association, Hugh. There is nothing you can do about that, and I don’t suggest that you should try. But rest assured that I do not blame you. Does that set your conscience at rest?”

Alfred Lucas clearly thought that this absolution was what Hugh had been seeking this evening, and Hugh moved quickly to correct this misapprehension.

“You misunderstand me, Alfred. I would like to know more about what happened between your cousin and my uncle. I’ve been thinking about the past recently, and it troubles me that I know very little about the death of a man I greatly respected. Can you tell me what transpired?”

“I can tell you my family’s version of events, which may well be different from your uncle’s,” Alfred cautioned.

“My uncle told me virtually nothing,” Hugh said, remembering again Lady Georgina’s champagne toast soon after William Fitzroy’s death and the distaste he and the Dowager Duchess had felt for such celebration in the ashes of someone else’s tragedy. “Beyond my estate, I’ve never had any interest in Uncle Edwin’s dealings.”

Alfred looked at Hugh more discerningly now, as though measuring something up. “Do you have a strong stomach?” he asked.

“I look at my own face in the mirror every morning and tell the world to go to hell,” Hugh answered, and both men laughed darkly at his answer.

“Then let me pour us both a strong drink, and I’ll tell you what I can.” Alfred nodded, moving to the sideboard, where decantersof brandy and whiskey sat on a tray beside a long line of glasses. “First of all, Uncle William never took out that loan…”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Jemima! I hoped you would be here. Oh, I am so glad to see you again!” The Duchess of Redbridge embraced her younger sister as though they had been separated for years rather than a matter of weeks.

Jemima returned her affection enthusiastically but then straightened up. “Careful of my hair, Catherine!” She laughed merrily. “You have no idea how long it took Maisie to dress these curls. I’d hate to undo her good work before midnight.”

Catherine stood back from her sister with a smile, taking her hands in her own and looking into the familiar sweetly dimpled, smiling face with its golden-brown curls and blue eyes. “You must be the prettiest lady here tonight, Jemima. But I always say that, don’t I?”

“I do have a new dress.” Jemima smiled back happily. “It makes me feel very beautiful, so I’ll accept your compliment tonight. Even Father thinks it was worth every penny. Do you like it?”

The pale yellow muslin embroidered with tiny golden flowers did suit Jemima perfectly. She twirled around to show off both the back and the front of her new gown.

“There’s no one else that dress would suit half so well,” Catherine said honestly.

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