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Halmesbury arched a questioning blond eyebrow, his gaze steady. Richard avoided meeting his cousin’s eye, focusing instead on his hand resting near the untouched brandy on the table. The words he was about to speak felt heavy, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. “It is … easier to pursue the attention of unhappy wives,” he admitted reluctantly.

He glanced up and caught the flash of distaste that crossed his cousin’s face before the duke composed himself, but Richard could not blame him for the slight reaction. Even he was experiencing a reaction to the shallowness of his past pursuits. He had awoken from the bad dream to realize that he was the villain of the piece. Now he wished to reinvent himself as an honorable gentleman. There was still much work ahead. But first, he needed to ensure his … family … would be safe.

Halmesbury pushed the note back across the table. “You need to tell the countess.”

“But she married me for security. If she thinks I cannot provide it to her, she may turn away from me. Or leave me, to return to the Morelands.”

Halmesbury shrugged. “I do not think you described a woman who is so inclined. Your priority, now that you have provided additional security to protect her, is to keep your developing marriage strong. You cannot withhold a secret of this magnitude without consequences.”

Richard grabbed the note to put it away, irritated. This meeting was turning out to be most unhelpful. He could not frighten his new wife with this problem, which was his fault to begin with. It was mortifying how much she had been forced to contend with since the day they said their vows, and he could not reveal that she had put herself in danger by joining his household.

He knew she was an exceptional woman, but this situation was beyond the pale. Nay. He needed to deal with this matter without alerting her to what another of his past mistakes had exposed them to. Sophia deserved the safety she sought in marrying him, and he would move heaven and earth to provide it.

Halmesbury sighed. “I see you will not.”

“I cannot. Eventually, my past will be too much and her patience will reach its limit.”

“I do not think you give the young woman enough credit. From what you described, she entered this marriage with her eyes open, willing to assist you on your quest. But I cannot make your decision for you. I can only encourage you to think on it. There was a time you encouraged me to talk to Annabel rather than run from my feelings. I now encourage you to do the same because it is liberating to have a life partner. Someone who is always at your side, no matter what you may have done. Or have to do. I urge you to reconsider your decision to conceal this matter.”

Richard gave a curt nod. He would think about it, but he doubted he would change his mind.

“Do you have any idea who could have sent it?”

“Any number of men who might consider themselves wronged.”

“I suggest you make a finite list and then task your runners to investigate. The goal would be to reduce it down to a manageable list of likely suspects while maintaining increased security. Just realize that your countess would be better equipped to avoid danger if she is aware that she needs to be cautious.”

“I agreed to think on it!” Richard quelled his rebellion. The duke provided excellent guidance in a matter where Richard’s thoughts were compromised by the turmoil of fear for his new family, and he needed to keep a cool head. “I apologize. Your guidance is appreciated. I will do what you recommended and start listing out suspects to investigate until I uncover the source of this threat.”

Halmesbury smiled. “I hope you uncover it swiftly. If there is anything I can do to help, do not hesitate to ask.”

Chapter

Twelve

“Dignity in a woman commands respect and admiration.”

Dr. John Gregory, A Father’s Legacy to His Daughters

Just off St. James’s Place, having failed to locate Richard earlier, Sophia wandered through the modiste shop her husband had recommended for her new wardrobe befitting the wife of an earl. Lily was accompanying her, animated in her exploration of the explosion of colorful fabrics to inspect.

“It is so exciting! You can wear so many colors now that you are wed. I am quite envious.” Sophia smiled at her exuberant cousin. Lily was such a ball of energy, she never failed to lift Sophia’s spirits or distract her from her worries. Worries such as the fact that one of the new Johns had joined her in the carriage for this outing.

The coachman and the customary footman had sat on the box, but the shorter of the two Johns abruptly entered the carriage behind her without so much as a by-your-leave. It was unprecedented, in her experience, to have a male servant inside the carriage. When he failed to explain himself, Sophia remained quiet and tensely observant. The only reason she had not leapt out to run back into the house was the sight of Radcliffe on the front steps. The butler had been watching closely, displaying no surprise when the footman embarked, which allayed her initial fear. Still, she resolved to talk to Richard the moment there was an opportunity.

When she had collected Lily from her home, her cousin had entered the carriage and then hesitated in dismay at the sight of a footman installed on the opposite seat, but his presence prevented her from questioning Sophia about it.

It had been a relief to reach the modiste shop and exit the vehicle, but she noted that The Shorter John, which she had taken to calling him in her mind, followed them up to the entrance and was currently visible through the front window while her cousin chattered about which colors Sophia should consider.

Turning her attention back to Lily, Sophia leafed through the fashion plates they had been provided. Thinking about her husband, her thoughts strayed to how he had known to send her to this particular modiste.

The proprietress was an elegant Italian woman, dressed in a stylish but simple gown. This was unusual because most modistes were obsequious French women, and a large majority of those were English women feigning their French accents and names in an attempt to be fashionable to their clientele.

Her stomach tightened as an unbidden pang of jealousy crept in. Had Richard brought other women here in the past to gift them with expensive clothing? Mistresses? Widows? Perhaps even lonely wives or celebrated courtesans? She forced herself to stop the train of thought before it spiraled further, her chest aching at the mere idea.

“How is it?”

Sophia looked up to find Lily’s large brown eyes fixed on her. She had just quietly regaled her cousin with the events of the past couple of days, but her thoughts distracted her and she found she had lost the thread of the conversation.