Undercover Duke, стр. 65
She swallowed hard. She hoped his behavior was an indication that not all was amiss between them. But she wasn’t ready to forgive him quite yet. Before that happened, she needed him to answer some questions.
Before she could broach even one, her new husband shifted his stance so he could gaze up the steps and said, “Your mother is late.”
Vanessa nodded. “That’s typical of her, I’m afraid. We shall simply have to hope there won’t be too many times we have to travel with her.”
He consulted his watch with a frown. “I trust you slept well?” he said, then turned his gaze to her and banished his frown. “You certainly look well this morning.”
“Why, thank you. I did indeed sleep well.” She straightened her pelisse. “Your bed is very comfortable.”
He leaned in the open carriage door. “And seeing you in it made me very happy,” he said in a low rumble that had her squirming on the seat, remembering their lovely romp in her bed earlier last night. Though she did wonder why he hadn’t made any advances while she was in his.
“Thank you for putting me to bed,” she told him.
“You have my mother to thank for that more than me. I hadn’t even noticed that you’d been lying in your own blood.”
“To be honest, neither had I. Still, I vaguely remember you moving me to your bed.”
He eyed her closely. “I thought you weren’t awake.”
“I wasn’t, really. I just roused enough to realize someone was carrying me who smelled like you.” She cast him a rueful look. “You wear a very distinctive scent.”
“Ah.”
“And I’m sorry I got foxed. I don’t usually drink spirits at all.”
He chuckled. “I could tell.”
“I was just upset that—”
“I know. You had a right to be. And I’m sure you have more questions. But we must discuss those in private tonight at the inn where we’re staying in Cambridge.” He nodded to where her mother was descending the steps, scolding some poor servant as she came.
Vanessa sighed, wishing she had more time. But she did want to know one thing before they set off, something she thought—or rather hoped—she might have dreamed. “Who is Helene?”
The stricken look on his face told her she hadn’t dreamed it. “We’ll . . . discuss her tonight as well.”
“She’s not your mistress, is she?”
“God, no.” He lowered his voice. “I told you. I’ve never had one.”
“One what?” Mama asked as she reached him.
When Sheridan stiffened, Vanessa said, “A pet. I was telling him we should get a poodle.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her as he helped her mother into the carriage. “And I told your daughter that if we do get a dog—which I’m not averse to—it won’t be a poodle.”
Her mother settled into the seat beside Vanessa, facing forward as was proper for women traveling with men in a carriage. “I can’t imagine why you’d want one of those filthy creatures in your house, Duke. I never allowed one in mine.”
Sheridan exchanged a sympathetic glance with Vanessa as he took the seat directly opposite her. “A dog, Lady Eustace? Or a poodle?”
“Both.” Mama shook her head. “If you acquire any dog, you will soon find them too troublesome to endure.”
Vanessa ignored her mother. “What breed would you prefer, Sheridan?”
“A setter. I like setters. Growing up, we had two as pets.”
“Oh, I forgot about that.” Vanessa ventured a smile. “Grey told me he had to leave his setters behind. It follows that the rest of you inherited them.”
Sheridan nodded. “They died five or so years after he left. But they were my constant companions until then.”
“Did you ever get another?”
“No. My mother mostly agreed with yours on the subject of dogs being filthy creatures. Which is why she had a cat. They clean themselves.”
“Oh, I love cats!” Vanessa had always wanted one of those, too. But Mama had forbidden even that. No pets for her.
Now that she was married, however, she could acquire whichever pets she wanted. That hadn’t occurred to her until just now. Then again, she would have to consult with Sheridan first, which was only slightly better than having to pass every decision through her father, her mother, or a trustee. Truly, even when women got what they wanted, they didn’t get everything they wanted.
The conversation lapsed at that moment. With Sheridan watching them both as if trying to figure out how to begin his interrogation of Mama, Vanessa turned to looking out of the carriage window at the lovely scenery. She knew they were supposed to get her mother to tell them where she was during the house parties, but Vanessa’s heart wasn’t in it.
Last night, she should have asked her questions. Perhaps when she’d felt his eyes on her, as if he was wondering if he should wake her. But she hadn’t been in the mood. She’d been tired, not to mention weary of discussing what he’d kept from her. Between the possibility that Mama had been a murderer and that Sheridan might have to be the one to trap her into confessing, Vanessa had needed time just to think of what to say to him about the enormous secret he’d been hiding from her. And to ask what else he might be keeping from her.
Eventually, she would have to ask her questions, if only to put her fears to rest. But with Mama in the carriage now, she would be forced to delay her questioning. Her mother had a way of turning every conversation around to herself, anyway.
“I don’t understand why we had to leave the country in such a hurry,” Mama said in her most peevish voice. “Armitage Hall was a very striking residence. I’m sure it will be even more appealing once improvements are made to it.”
“The only improvements I’ll be making at