Page 87 of A Duke in the Rough

Their impromptu meeting was getting out of control. Honoria did her best to return to the matter at hand. “Let us worry about His Grace later. Miranda, you said you have news ofThe Muckraker.”

Miranda nodded. “Not so much news as the lack thereof. My source in London wrote to me saying the rag has been ominously silent for days, even though Lord Felix Davies caused a disturbance in a gaming hell.”

“That sort of thing is often hushed up,” Honoria offered.

“True,” Miranda said. “But in this instance, the gaming hell owner called a constable.”

Anne’s eyes grew large. “They arrested Davies?”

Miranda shook her head. “Only removed him from the premises in order to cool his head.”

Charlotte’s scowl deepened. “Davies probably paid them a tidy sum to keep it quiet.”

“Didn’t he court you?” Honoria asked Charlotte.

“Briefly. Before I discovered what a worm he truly is.”

Miranda pursed her lips. “Even if Davies paid to keep the incident from the scandal sheets, my source says Dr. Somersby was called to the gaming hell and tended to a man injured in the brawl.”

“I hope the injured party was Davies,” Charlotte muttered. “But regardless, I doubt Dr. Somersby would say anything. He’s not the type to spread gossip.”

Miranda sank into her chair in a defeated slump. “I suppose you’re right, even if it rebuts my supposition.”

“Which is?” Honoria asked, although she had a good idea where Miranda’s logic had led her.

“That the instigator is out of London. Perhaps even right here.”

Anne vibrated with excitement. “One of the guests?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “No, ninny. One of the servants. Of course, one of the guests.”

Honoria felt the need to interject. “Wait. Let’s not rule anything out. It could very well be one of the servants. Think about it. Servants are unobtrusive. They’re able to mingle among us and overhear things without anyone noticing.”

“True,” Miranda said. “But it would be unlikely for one servant of a household to be privy to what happens everywhere, as the perpetrator seems to be.”

“Also, true,” Honoria said. “Which makes Anne’s deduction that it might be a guest logical.”

Anne blinked. “You think I’m logical?”

Charlotte waved it away. “Honoria is being Honoria. Which is tosay, generous and kind. Something you should consider if you recall our conversation.”

Anne glanced at Honoria, her mouth opening then snapping shut.

What conversation?

At Miranda’s dejected expression, Honoria said, “And it doesn’t rule out Miranda’s supposition. Surely, someone who witnessed the brawl would have said something. Davies isn’t well-liked. But whether the perpetrator is still in London, here, or elsewhere, we must be vigilant. Perhaps the next publication will provide a clue.”

“I’ve asked my contact in London to forward any copies to me at once,” Miranda said.

Charlotte raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you ever going to tell us who this mysterious contact of yours is? Is it a man or a woman?”

Miranda’s enigmatic expression gave nothing away. “I reserve the right to protect my sources.” Her eyes shifted toward Honoria, and she delivered a sly smile. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Honoria’s cheeks burned at the memory of Drake’s kiss.

“Why are you blushing, Honoria?” Anne’s gaze locked on her, then a strange awareness covered her face, and she jerked her head toward Charlotte.

Giving an almost imperceptible nod, Charlotte rose. “Now, perhaps we should all retire to our rooms and rest before the ball this evening. I expect to do my share of dancing since Edgerton isn’t here to approve my partners. I’m feeling generous enough that I may even dance with that irascible duke.”

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