“Though I must confess I’m surprised. Your Duchess’s pregnancy was remarkably discreet. No announcements, no Society appearances. One might almost think it was a secret.”
“I value privacy.” Owen kept his expression neutral. “As did my wife during a difficult time.”
“Privacy.” Jasper tested the word like wine. “My brother valued that, too. Yet look how many rumors still surround him.Whispers about debts, women, and a child born on the wrong side of the sheets.”
Owen’s jaw tightened. “Your brother is dead. Perhaps you should let him rest.”
“Should I?” Jasper stepped closer, lowering his voice. “When those rumors taint the Richmond name? When whispers follow me through every ballroom?” His eyes glittered with something that might have been grief or rage. “Tell me, Carridan. You were close to Nicholas. Did he ever mention having?—”
“I make it a point not to listen to clucking hens and roosters.” Owen’s voice carried enough ice to frost the windows. “Perhaps you should do the same.”
“Easier said than done when one’s family name is at stake.” Jasper studied him with unsettling intensity. “Is that why you’ve kept your daughter hidden? To avoid the gossip mill?”
“Among other reasons.”
“Hmm.” Jasper’s smile was thin. “Though in my experience, secrecy only makes thetonmore curious. They do so love a mystery.”
Before Owen could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
“Carridan! There you are.” Felix appeared with his usual impeccable timing, already reaching out to shake Owen’s hand. “Morrison said I’d find you here. Richmond.” He nodded curtly to Jasper. “Didn’t know you were interested in railways. Thought you preferred more traditional investments.”
“Tradition has its place,” Jasper replied. “As does innovation. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”
He melted back into the crowd, leaving Owen and Felix standing among the vases.
“Thank you,” Owen said quietly.
“For what? I really was looking for you.” Felix’s usual cheerfulness seemed slightly forced. “Though I’ll admit that Richmond makes my skin crawl. Always has, even when we were boys. Nicholas had charm. His brother just has ambition.”
They made their way out of Morrison’s house and into the afternoon sunshine.
Owen expected Felix to make his excuses and leave. Instead, his cousin-in-law fell into step beside him.
“Drink?” Felix suggested. “I know a place nearby. Quiet. Good brandy.”
Owen hesitated. Drinking with Felix seemed like crossing a boundary he’d carefully maintained. But the encounter withJasper had left him unsettled, and the thought of returning home to face Iris…
“One drink,” he agreed.
The establishment Felix led him to was indeed quiet, a gentleman’s refuge tucked away from the busier streets. They settled into leather chairs near a window, and brandy appeared as if by magic.
“So,” Felix said after a moment, “Jasper’s sniffing around about your friend Nicholas.”
“And?”
“It can’t be good.” Felix took a thoughtful sip. “I’ve been making some inquiries myself. There were rumors about Nicholas before he died. Whispers about dangerous investments and asking the wrong questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“The kind that gets carriages driven off cliffs.” Felix met his gaze steadily. “The kind that might make someone desperate enough to leave a baby on a doorstep.”
Owen stared into his brandy and said nothing.
“I’ve been piecing things together,” Felix continued quietly. “The rumors about the late Duke of Richmond. A baby appearing at your door. Your sudden protectiveness and secrecy.” He paused meaningfully. “You and he were close friends, weren’t you?”
“Felix.”
“I’m not stupid, Your Grace. The timing, the circumstances, your behavior…” Felix leaned forward. “She’s his, isn’t she? That’s why you can’t tell Iris the truth.”
