Page 6 of A Murder in Mayfair
“Actually, I’ve made his acquaintance. We were both at Needham Manor during the festivities surrounding Lady Eleanor’s Christmas Ball.” Lady Eleanor, my dearest friend, had not only invited me but demanded I attend, claiming I needed a respite from my familial duties.
“You didn’t sharethatnews with me,” Claire said, somewhat surprised.
Knowing she would make a great deal of it, I’d decided to keep my own counsel. But, of course, I couldn’t tell her that. Last thing I wanted was to hurt her feelings. “I’ve been so busy with Chrissie’s debut, it slipped my mind.”
She accepted my explanation with an amused smile. But clearly, her curiosity had been piqued. “So, how did you find him?”
“Aloof. Arrogant.” And much too fascinating. But Lady Claire did not need to know that last part.
My friend glanced toward the receiving line once more. “Yes, he does have that reputation. He’s also reportedly brilliant.”
“So I’ve heard.” Actually, I had not only heard but knew. Just prior to my arrival at Needham Manor, Lady Eleanor’s diamond necklace had been stolen. The duke and I had both been asked to investigate. The successful conclusion of the matter, and our roles in it, had been kept from the holiday guests to keep the scandal from leaking out. But I’d discovered he was indeed highly intelligent. Unfortunately, he’d also turned out to be charming and fascinating. To tell the truth, he’d rather unsettled me. Once the festivities ended, I’d been glad to return home.
“He’s rather striking, don’t you think?”
Yes, he was. But I had no desire to share that opinion with Claire. She would make much more of it than I desired. So I simply asked another question. “You can see him from here?” We were standing on the opposite side of the room. With the press of bodies between us and the entrance, it would be difficult to note anyone’s presence.
“You can’t miss him as tall as he is, and then there’s that white streak in his dark hair.” She turned back to me. “Rumor has it he’s in between mistresses at the moment.”
That got my attention. “How do you know such a thing?”
“Afternoon teas. You’d know as well if you involved yourself in something other than children’s nappies and women’s suffrage.”
“I’ve never been interested in gossip. And I’ll have you know not one of my siblings is still in leading strings, much less nappies.”
“But you do dedicate a huge amount of time to women’s suffrage.”
“Of course, I do. How else are we going to obtain the vote unless we keep pushing for it?” I let out a frustrated sigh. “We missed you at the meeting this week.”
She raised and lowered both shoulders. “I was at the modiste. It was the only time she could fit me in.” She squeezed my arm. “I promise to make the next one.”
“Ummm,” was my only response. She did support the cause, not as fervently as I did, but enough.
Her avid gaze returned to the receiving line. “The duke is quite in demand, you know. Every hostess worth her salt has sent him an invitation to her ball. It’s quite a coup for Lady Cholmondley-Smith that he honored her with his presence.”
“Why do they desire his attendance?” True, he was a duke, but so were others. What made him such a hoped-for guest?
She smirked. “Other than he’s a duke who inherited the vast Steele fortune, you mean?”
Of course, she’d know all about that. But I couldn’t let her get the better of me. “Yes. Other than that.”
“He’s a widower with no heir to the title. Other than his younger brothers, that is. Sooner or later, he must marry if he wants the Steele line to continue through him.”
I’d discovered last Christmas he had no desire to marry again. But apparently, most of society, including Claire, were not aware of this. “So every lady in search of a husband has set her sights on him?”
“Exactly. As soon as our hostess let it be known he would be in attendance, every unattached female in town clamored for an invitation.”
“That would explain the crush,” I said, gazing around the room.
“It would be no hardship to be married to such a man. Not only would his wife be a duchess, but she’d be well entertained in bed.”
My gaze snapped back to her. “I thought you despised marital relations.”
“My husband was in his fifties, who had . . . difficulty performing, although it didn’t stop him from trying. If rumors are anything to go by, Steele does not suffer from such a problem. Just the opposite, in fact.”
“How do you know?”
She turned back to me. “Ladies talk, Rosalynd.”
