Page 43 of If Not for the Duke

When she’d been young, perhaps only six or seven, and her mother had been alive, she’d had a terrible feeling during a visit from Mrs. Johnson, her father’s partner’s wife. Lena had shared the thought—that Norah was hurt—and the woman had stared at her, her expression clearly suggesting Lena had lost her mind.

When Ella brought a limping Norah, who’d twisted her ankle, home a few minutes later, Mrs. Johnson had crossed herself as if to ward off evil, her gaze holding on Lena. Lena would never forget how she felt at that moment—embarrassed and hurt. The incident had shaken her to the core, putting a crack in the foundation of her belief in herself and her sense.

She’d asked her mother about it after Mrs. Johnson had left.

“Perhaps it’s best if we keep your ability to ourselves. Not everyone will understand. In fact, most won’t. And what people don’t understand, they often fear.”

There had been other times as well. Times when what she was sensing would slip out, causing any who noticed to stare at her in alarm. Was it any wonder that she had never been comfortable with the ability?

If she didn’t have to guard her thoughts so closely and could open herself to what she felt, she might have a better relationship with the gift. But that was a dangerous path when the feeling could come at any given moment, regardless of where she was or who she was with.

What people thought of her affected not only herself, but her sisters and her grandfather, Lady Havenby, Marbury, and Vanbridge. The circle was growing ever wider. Living in London made it much more difficult to hide her ability than the isolation of her childhood home.

“Shall I tell Ella you’ll be by soon to visit?” Marbury asked, returning her thoughts to the current problem.

“Yes. I’ll call on her in the morning. I’ll do my best not to dwell on the treasure hunt.” If only Sterling would halt the treasure hunt before something terrible happened. She didn’t need a premonition to think it would.

*

Sterling looked aroundthe Society offices, hoping Viscount Ludham had chosen to attend the monthly meeting. He wanted to speak with the viscount and make certain the conversation moved to the treasure hunt and see how Ludham reacted to discussing it and possibly gain more insight as to what Ludham intended.

Sterling had sent a letter to Mr. Johnson to advise him that he might be asked for information on the treasure hunt. Perhaps even pressed for it and to take care. He didn’t know what Ludham and his companion thought they’d learn. Obviously, if Johnson knew anything, he would’ve found the treasure himself.

Sterling had reviewed the conversation he’d overheard numerous times, wondering if he’d misinterpreted the hint of a threat. Logic said yes, but his instincts said no.

Ludham and his companion might not have truly meant any of it. Perhaps it was all a lark. But the fact that they’d met in private in Stanhope’s study suggested they didn’t want their conversation overheard. Whoever Ludham had been speaking with had left immediately afterward, making Sterling suspect he hadn’t been a guest at the ball. That might explain why he hadn’t recognized him—the man wasn’t a member of theton.

Sterling walked into the large, nearly full meeting room, noting Marbury, Vanbridge, and Rothwood were all absent. He found that curious since at least one of them usually attended the monthly meetings. He hoped nothing was amiss.

His thoughts turned to Lena as the meeting was called to order. Bernie had hoped to see her at a garden party the previous day, which had nearly been enough for Sterling to consider attending. Other duties had kept him away. That had proven to be a good thing since Bernie reported afterward that Lena hadn’t been there.

Concern seeped through him as he considered Lena’s absence yesterday added to the three men’s absences today. He worried something was wrong, though there was little he could do to discover if anything was amiss. Sending a message to Lena would be too forward. The fact that he’d danced with only her at two different balls had probably already caused talk. He needed to take care, or others, including her grandfather, might gain the wrong impression.

Lord Fremont summarized the Society’s activities over the past month and provided updates on several explorations the group helped to fund. Viscount Worley was leading a particularly interesting dig in South America and had sent a report outlining the results which were quite favorable. This was Worley’s second search there and much was being accomplished. Sterling looked forward to his return to hear firsthand about his discoveries.

At last, the meeting ended, and Sterling took the time to visit with several others while keeping an eye on Ludham. He made certain the viscount saw him and waited to see if he approached.

Sterling conversed with Viscount Dyke followed by the Duke of Wyndburg, all while watching Ludham. Unfortunately, the man kept his distance, leaving Sterling no choice but to attempt to initiate a casual conversation. He made his way across the room to speak with someone who stood close to Ludham and, after a brief exchange, turned to face Ludham.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace.” Ludham bowed after Sterling greeted him.

“Worley’s efforts in South America are impressive, wouldn’t you agree?” Sterling asked.

“Quite,” Ludham agreed. “Does hearing of his success make you more anxious for your own?”

Sterling frowned. “It’s not a competition.”

“Isn’t it?” Ludham raised a brow. “Isn’t all exploration and treasure hunting? After all, it only matters if you’re the first. Much like other areas in life.”

The remark made Sterling realize why he didn’t care for the man. “Competition is all well and good when it’s used productively. Rushing through difficult tasks is fruitless and often dangerous.”

“When it comes to exploring or hunting for treasure, danger is part of the risk.” Ludham’s sly smile suggested he was hoping to stir Sterling’s ire.

And he was, which only annoyed Sterling further. “Do you intend to do some of your own?”

Ludham shrugged. “I don’t care to battle the jungle or dig in the dirt.” He lifted a hand to study his nails as if pleased no dirt was visible beneath them. “Some of us are better suited for managing projects rather than laboring.”

“You make it sound as if you’re actively involved in one now.” Sterling waited to see how he’d respond, watching his face closely.

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