“It could be either lady as well,” Allen said quickly.
“Nonsense,” Wilcox scoffed. “Lady Barnet and Lady Venables may not like each other but they both love the duchess. They would never wish to hurt her.”
“Are you defending that sanctimonious harridan? Didn’t I hear Lady Venables tried to get you dismissed last month?”
“I may have deserved that.” Wilcox smiled nervously at Leopold. “She does not care for me speaking my mind to the duchess, even when Her Grace seeks out my opinion. I should have waited until Lady Venables had moved out of earshot before speaking up.”
Blythe did seem the kind to cling to proper decorum. Mercy’s consideration of a servant’s suggestion would likely set her teeth on edge. “I believe I understand your dilemma. What was the discussion about, by the way?”
“It was to do with the duke. Her Grace asked my opinion on providing him with a pet for company. Lady Venables believed him to be too young, but she says that about almost everything involving the duke.”
A trifling matter, and not one that a servant should be dismissed over, certainly. “It is interesting that this latest development occurred on a day when Lady Venables was here.”
Wilcox nodded. “She was here the day of the last one, too. Lady Barnet had been here earlier in the day, but had already departed before the discovery was made.”
Leopold shook his head. He had a lead, two leads, but in both cases the path to finding the culprit was unclear. Perhaps the first thing he should do is get to know Mercy’s sister a little better. She was already here in the abbey and according to the note he’d received from Mercy, he was invited, and expected, to dine with them tonight. The next time Lady Barnet visited, he’d find out what made her tick, too.
~ * ~
As far as mistakes went, this fiasco was probably Mercy’s finest. She had thought that, by inviting Leopold to dine with her and Blythe, that her sister might have become better acquainted with him. Or at least become comfortable in his company.
Sadly, that was not to be the case. Blythe glared daggers at Leopold while he replied politely to her impetuous questions about his past, present, and future plans. It was a tense battle of wits that was bringing Mercy a megrim. She should still be angry with Leopold. He had deceived her, manipulated her, and shared her bed without a word about their past. However, Blythe appeared annoyed enough for both of them at the present. She didn’t want Leopold to think he wasn’t wanted at Romsey, or that he could leave whenever he chose to go. He was not going anywhere until she had some answers that satisfied her. But at the rate this was going, he would be gone before sunrise.
She licked her lips nervously at the idea. “I saw you out by the stables earlier. Is anything amiss?”
He shook his head. “Simply admiring one of the horses and thinking it will be a good long while before the duke is old enough to ride them. Has he sat one yet?”
“The duke is too young,” Blythe cut in.
Leopold regarded Blythe, a friendly smile on his face. “At what age would you suggest he be introduced to the saddle? It is my understanding that my cousin sat a horse from the age of two, or so he boasted. My parents were somewhat tardier than that. I had to wait for Oliver to be old enough to sit our pony, and then I had to share it with him.”
Mercy liked the sound of Leopold’s parents. They had been very practical minded people. She cleared her throat. “We rode later, as well. Mother was terrified of horses and would not let us girls near them. My brother was already cantering about when we got our first chance at the experience. Constantine used to tease us that we were as slow as snails.”
“That’s what brother’s do best. Tease.” His gaze slewed back toward Blythe as he waited on her response.
Blythe shot him a defiant look. “Not before he turns five.”
“Good. That gives us ample time to find a suitably quiet mount that will plod about, despite all the urgent kicks the boy is bound to inflict. There is not a horse like that out in the stable, unfortunately. My cousin has only excitable beasts and they simply will not do for an inexperienced rider.”
Oh, bravo, Leopold! With one answer, he had effectively foiled Blythe’s fears, cited family tradition, and had taken her advice on the matter of Edwin learning to ride. Not many had handled Blythe so masterfully before. Usually, they tried to tell her she worried too much.
Blythe’s lips pursed, and then she returned to her dinner without further comment.
Mercy glanced at Leopold. He offered a brief smile, flashed his dimples, and then he too returned to dining quietly at her side. How could she stay mad at him when he did everything else so well?
The problem vexed her. If he was not being honest with her about sharing her bed five years ago should she necessarily distrust everything else he said and did?
Then there was his closer than expected relationship to Edwin that he never alluded to. He had never given her any hint that he wanted more to do with the boy than he should. If not for the problems facing them, he’d been determined to get his answers and leave immediately thereafter.
Mercy sat back in her chair to ponder her feelings. She was—disappointed. Angry. But when she thought about it, she wasn’t even angry with Leopold. She was angry with her husband, and certainly furious with the old duke above all. They had known who was coming to her bed and why he had been chosen for the task. She simply could not imagine Leopold being a party to a seduction unless he was given no choice in the matter.
“Is something wrong, Your Grace,” Blythe asked.
Mercy forced a smile. “No, just thinking about the future.”
Leopold pushed his plate away, and then motioned to Wilcox that the servants could be dismissed. Wilcox glanced at her and Mercy nodded in agreement.
When they were gone, Leopold addressed Blythe. “The duchess has been kind enough to take me into her confidence about the mad man stalking her. I am greatly concerned and determined to protect my cousin from harm. He is too young for such strife in his life. But I am equally concerned about your welfare.”