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Chapter Eleven

Jerome slept badly, haunted by Ava’s journey north with Lannister and what must have been a terrifying ordeal, walking from Newcastle to Ravenshaw in the dark and during one of the worst storms he had ever witnessed. He shuddered. How she had arrived unhurt—in fact, how she had even found his house in the dark—was a mystery. But one he was profoundly grateful for.

What mystified him further was the exact nature of the relationship between Ava and Lannister, and why she, and indeed Rob, had neglected to mention the fact that she had spent a prolonged journey in his company on what must have been significantly intimate terms. As much as he tried to dismiss it, the thoughts persisted.

He woke tired and irritable at around ten from a dream that faded before he could grasp it but left him feeling unsettled and anxious. The surge of relief that he had experienced following his interview with Isabella—and the happiness that welled up in its wake when he thought of being able to claim Ava as his wife at last—had dissolved overnight.

He was drinking coffee and ignoring the plate of ham and eggs set before him when his butler presented a folded note to him on a silver salver.

“This came for you last evening, my lord.”

“Thank you, Skelton,” He took the folded parchment and turned it over to peruse the seal. DeCrecy! What the hell—

He broke the seal and spread out the single sheet.

Jerome,

If you can spare the time, I would appreciate it if you would call at Grosvenor Square.

Yours, etc.

Leticia

“Good God!” He murmured under his breath. He hadn’t seen his elder sister in several years, except in passing at the odd ball or concert. For the most part, they didn’t mix in the same circles. To his knowledge, she spent a good part of the year ruralizing at her husband’s estate in Shropshire, and when in London, her social engagements revolved around the political calendar. What she wanted with him now, he couldn’t fathom, but it was fortuitous, for it had occurred to him that he ought to inform her of what he had discovered about their parents while he was at Ravenshaw. To say nothing of his engagement to Ava.

He and Leticia had never been close, the age difference between them being almost ten years. He had been in short coats when she had her debut and married John Norwich, the Earl DeCrecy, soon after. As her husband was ten years her senior and, in Jerome’s opinion, a dry stick, the two men had never formed any kind of friendship, either, and seldom ran across each other socially, despite belonging to the same club.

When he arrived later that morning at her house in Grosvenor Square, the butler conducted him to the parlor where his sister sat at a desk, engaged, he assumed, in correspondence. She abandoned this at his entrance, rising to greet him. Letty had been a beauty in her day and still had good bone structure. The birth of six children had thickened her figure and there was some gray beginning to show in her dark locks, but they otherwise shared the same coloring. She also, to his critical eye, seemed tired.

“Well, that was quick,” she remarked, offering him her cheek.

“I confess it has been so long since I heard from you, I was alarmed. I thought you were still buried in the wilds of Shropshire.”

“How can I be, with Sophie’s debut this year?”

“Oh Lord, is it?”

She shook her head at him. “You’re a terrible uncle, you know.”

He rubbed his face. “Yes, I do know. I’m sorry.”

“Never mind. Sit down and tell me the rumors are greatly exaggerated, and you are not having an affair with Isabella Mortimer.”

“I’m not.”

“And there is no truth to the rumor that you’re going to marry her?”

“No.” He swallowed. London’s gossipmongers had a lot to answer for. He took refuge in irritation. “Is this what you asked me to come for? To rake me over the coals for gossip with no foundation?”

“Not primarily, but it was my most pressing question. I’m relieved it’s not true. Isabella is not right for you.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked, caught off guard. “I wouldn’t think you know me well enough to hazard a guess as to who would suit me.”

“I may not have seen you much in recent years, but I know you, little brother. Unless you have changed out of all recognition.”

He regarded her with a quizzical frown. “You were so much older than me. I didn’t think you paid me much attention at all.”

She half smiled and shook her head. “My primary reason was in fact to apprise you of Sophie’s come out, because I knew you would have forgotten, and to request your assistance.”