Page 103 of Doxy for the Ton
“I believe so.”
“I understand the duchess chose to play Bach at your request. That strikes me as the act of a man in love.”
“I made a request because Lady Rex likes Bach, that’s all. A small gesture.”
“It’s the small gestures that give us away, my friend,” Thorpe said. “Few men are so considerate. More to the point, when haveyouever shown such consideration?” Then he grinned. “But it’s not your extraordinary consideration for another person that I wanted to mention,” he said. “As I listened to the music, I found myself once more recalling Baron and Lady King.”
“And they are…?”
“Were, my friend,” Thorpe said. “Do you not recall my mentioning them at Lady Walton’s ball? It was Lady King who was particularly proficient when it came to Bach.”
“And she’s no longer alive,” Alexander said.
“A tragic story,” Thorpe said. “Baron and Lady King died in a shipwreck, together with their son.”
“Tragic indeed, but I fail to see why you’d take a particular interest in them tonight.”
“They also had a daughter—Jemima.”
“I’ve never heard of her,” Alexander said. “How about you, Whitcombe?”
The duke shook his head.
“Baron King and his family rarely visited London,” Thorpe said. “They traveled abroad, and managed only a small estate in the country.”
“Doyouknow her, Thorpe?” Whitcombe asked.
“I never met her, but my mother did,” Thorpe replied. “Mother was a guest at a house party at their estate, some fifteen years ago, and she encountered a child—a girl—in the drawing room.”
“And the child was Jemima?”
Thorpe nodded. “Mother said she never forgot her—a precocious little thing who knew a great deal about Bach, and had a fondness for marzipan. She’d hidden in the drawing room to listen to the after-dinner recitals. Mother spotted her, and the child swore her to secrecy.”
“So a precocious girl took advantage of your mother’s kindness,” Alexander said.
“I think Mother felt sorry for her. The girl was a late child—when she was born, her brother was already well into his twenties. There was a rumor at the time that she might have been the result of an illicit liaison. And we both know the impact rumors can have on a person.” Thorpe let out a sigh. “I wonder what became of her?”
“Didn’t she inherit?”
Thorpe shook his head. “The title passed to a cousin, but no provision was made for the girl—I doubt Baron King expected his heir to die with him.”
Alexander folded his arms. “Why are you telling us this?”
“I just wondered…” Thorpe made a random gesture in the air. “It seemed particularly interesting that Lady Rex had such a fondness for Bach, and had spent much of her life overseas. I wondered if she might be a relative. After all, Rex is Latin for—”
He broke off as footsteps approached, and Alexander turned to see Mimi flanked by Duchess Whitcombe and Lady Radham. She stared at Thorpe, open-mouthed. Then she glanced toward Alexander, her eyes glistening with fear.
“Ladies, forgive me for detaining the gentlemen,” Thorpe said. “I fear there’s something of a crush for coats, and unless you enjoy a melee, I’d advise waiting. Now, I must thank our hostess.”
He bowed and disappeared. Shortly after, Westbury’s son appeared, brandishing a number of cloaks.
“Ladies, I hope it’s not too forward of me, but I took the liberty of bringing your cloaks. There’s something of a battle taking place in the hallway.”
Mr. Drayton handed the cloaks to Alexander—all except Mimi’s, which he placed around her shoulders.
“A pleasure to see you, Lady Rex,” he said. “I’m so glad Mama Jeanette extended the invitation to you.”
“As am I,” Mimi said. Mr. Drayton took her hand and kissed it, and she smiled—but the light had gone from her eyes.
