Page 28 of The Stolen Sparkler
Philip was a strapping young man, with a full head of blonde hair, and the body of an Adonis. “Well, at least she has good taste.”
“Father has written a letter to Uncle Wilford informing him of her activities with a strong recommendation to marry her off as quickly as possible before she disgraces herself.”
“Does she have any suitors?” I asked, glancing back at Eleanor.
“Lord Waddling.”
“He must be fifty five years old if he’s a day!”
“And looking for a young wife to warm his bed.”
“Poor Lavinia,” I would never wish an old, randy husband on anyone.
“She brought it on herself.”
Even as we laughed the duke caught my eye. In seemingly predatory fashion, he was approaching the refreshment table where Lord Burkett stood. What could he possibly want to discuss with him?
Lord Burkett’shawklike gaze darted across the room, perhaps seeking allies in his thwarted schemes. Knowing his type, Ianticipated he might attempt further sabotage. It was time to put a stop to that.
“Burkett,” I greeted him evenly, my voice low enough to avoid attracting attention from those nearby.
He turned. “Steele. To what do I owe this pleasure?” The hate in his eyes belied the polite greeting.
I stepped closer, my tone soft but pointed. “Let us dispense with pleasantries. The engagement between Cumberforth and Lady Eleanor is to proceed. I trust you’ll play the doting father-in-law tonight, offering them your hearty congratulations?”
Burkett’s lips thinned. “I’ve already done more than I ought to. This engagement does little to?—”
I narrowed my gaze and gritted my teeth. “If you’re thinking of further impediments, I assure you they’ll backfire. Your machinations with the necklace theft were a disgrace. Were I to make them public—and I will, should you waver—your reputation would suffer irreparable harm. That would hardly be in your or your son’s interest.”
Burkett bristled, his fists tightening at his sides, but I pressed on. “A word of advice: sometimes retreat is the wiser course. Offer your blessings tonight, and I’ll consider the matter closed. Fail to do so, and you’ll find I have a long memory and a relentless sense of duty.”
A flicker of something—defeat, perhaps—crossed his face. He knew he had no choice. With a curt nod, he muttered, “Very well, Steele. You’ve made yourself clear.”
“Oh, one more thing. If you even so much as breathe Lady Rosalynd’s name in the future, it won’t be your reputation that will suffer. A certain part of your anatomy will pay the price.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Burkett sputtered.
“Au contraire, youbranleur de cheval. If you don’t believe me, ask Collingsford.” The knave in question had suffered a serious mishap after he’d seduced an innocent young lady.
Burkett turned white as a sheet. “Collingsford? I heard he fell off his horse?—"
“Yes, that’s what he claimed,” I drawled. “The truth is much uglier. Rather unfortunate, don’t you think?” The accident left Collingsford unable to perform the most vital of male functions. Gossip being what it was, of course, everyone knew.
Leaving him in a state of horror, I allowed my steps to carry me back into the glittering swirl of the ball. It was not long before Burkett approached the happy couple, his smile strained but serviceable as he shook his son’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder. Eleanor beamed at Burkett, entirely unaware of the coercion behind her future father-in-law’s apparent change of heart.
Satisfied with my efforts, I allowed my gaze to wander until it landed on Lady Rosalynd. She stood by the edge of the dance floor, watching the couples glide past with an air of quiet observation. Her gold gown suited her perfectly, as did the thoughtful expression on her face.
It was time for a different sort of negotiation.
I made my way to her side and bowed slightly. “Lady Rosalynd, may I have the honor of this dance?”
She turned to me, her lips curving into a smile that held more amusement than agreement. “I fear I’m not in the mood for dancing tonight, Your Grace. Perhaps we might promenade instead?”
“An excellent alternative,” I said, offering my arm. She placed her hand lightly on it, and we began a leisurely circuit of the room.
The soft murmur of conversation surrounded us, but we spoke quietly, our words meant only for each other. “A rather eventful weekend,” I remarked.
“To say the least,” she replied with a rueful smile. “I’m glad we solved the mystery, but I can’t help feeling I didn’t truly get to enjoy the festivities. There was no time to celebrate properly.”
