Page 32 of Love, the Duke
CHAPTER9
MAN’S PRACTICAL GUIDE TO APPREHENDING A THIEF
SIR BENTLY ASHTON ULLINGSWICK
Don’t let the suspect know you’re watching him.
Ophelia had attended several afternoon card games but never one as lavish as the Southperrys. The perfectly groomed grounds served as a backdrop for the vibrant spring flowers, shrubs, and trees. Guests entered by passing through a carved wooden arch that had been painted the same shade of blue as the sky and decorated with ivy. Urns filled with fragrant, colorful blooms bordered the stone-lined pathway that everyone took to their assigned tables.
Ladies were beautifully dressed in their finest visiting gowns of crepe, silk, or lightweight muslin. Their matching bonnets and hats were decorated with satin ribbons, netting, or a bit of organdy splashed around the band. Gentlemen cut dashing figures in their afternoon coats, white shirts, and neckcloths, with a palette of different colorful waistcoats.
Lord and Lady Southperry had managed to choose a beautiful day to hold their party. Cloudless skies and warm sunshine made a perfect canopy. The spacious garden was dotted with several white-linen-draped tables with two men and two ladies sitting at each, playing theirchoice of whist, cribbage, or speculation while quietly chatting. The chaperones and mothers who had escorted all the young ladies to the party had their own area of the lawn to pamper themselves while they watched and waited.
Ophelia stared at the cards in her gloved hands, but her mind was on the duke. She had wondered, worried even, that he might be at the party. Now that everyone was seated and the games had begun, she could rest easy and concentrate on what she had come to London to do without worrying about him looking over her shoulder. Or following her.
She saw the challenges of her quest being so much easier to meet if only she had his aid, but she could manage without him. Still, he probably knew Lord and Lady Southperry quite well and could easily slip into their book room unnoticed and peek at the bookshelves. But no, he couldn’t be bothered. He had made up his mind and she had made up hers. Already, she had planned for the reason she would need to go inside the house in a few minutes and look for the precious sacrament herself.
For the short time Ophelia was in the vestibule removing her wrap, she’d purposefully chatted casually with the servant attending the ladies as they arrived and had found out exactly where the book room was. The house wasn’t as large as the Duke of Wyatthaven’s, so all should go well. She hoped to be in and out in a flash with only her being the wiser.
“Are you still thinking about your next play, Miss Stowe?” the rather handsome, but impatient Mr. Wilbur Sawyer asked.
“Don’t worry about him, Miss Stowe,” Lord Gagingcliffe offered immediately in her defense, while giving theyounger man a disapproving stare. “Take your time and play your card when you’re ready. There’s no limit on how long we must wait.”
Ophelia smiled at the older, good-natured gentleman. “Thank you, but I’ve made up my mind.” She laid down the seven of spades and smiled pleasantly at the younger Mr. Sawyer. “I’m sorry it took me so long to decide, but the sun is so bright today, for a moment, I was having difficulty seeing the cards.”
The beautiful olive-skinned Miss Georgina Bristol sat opposite Ophelia and had been monopolizing Mr. Sawyer’s attention like a fledgling attending her first ball while almost completely ignoring the man her father wanted her to consider marrying.
“Are you feeling faint, Miss Stowe?”
“Not at all, my lord,” Ophelia quickly responded to the baron, lifting her chin and breathing in deeply. “I’m quite splendid. After the cold, dreary days earlier in the week, I think the sunshine is refreshing and heavenly.”
“But Lord Gagingcliffe is right, Miss Stowe,” Georgina added with a concerned expression. “Some ladies, such as you, are fairer and more delicate when it comes to the sun. Most can’t stay outside very long even when wearing a hat with a wide brim.”
Ophelia rededicated herself to her hand and said, “So good of you to remind me. I shall bear that in mind and be sure to take a respite if needed. Now, I believe it’s your turn, Mr. Sawyer.”
“Forgive me, Miss Stowe, but I played while you were discussing the sun.” He picked up his drink and gave Georgina a smile from behind his glass, which she returned.
It was easy to understand why Georgina would findMr. Sawyer more pleasing to look at than Lord Gagingcliffe. He cut a fine figure for a man and had a roguish appeal most any young lady would be drawn to. While the baron wasn’t as young, handsome, or as strongly built, he was pleasant. And clearly both gentlemen had their eyes on Georgina.
“That is a striking signet ring you are wearing, Mr. Sawyer,” Ophelia said pleasantly while waiting her turn again. “Has it been handed down through your family or was it made especially for you?”
He smiled as if pleased she noticed, and he took the time to admire the ring on his little finger too. “It has been passed down through our family for more than one hundred years now.”
“Oh, my. That is a long time to have preserved something so small which can easily be misplaced or lost. Does anyone in your family enjoy collecting artifacts to add to your family’s collection?”
He gave her a curious look. “Not that I know, but it really isn’t something I’d be asking anyone about. Most everything in our family has been handed down for generations. Perhaps that makes all of them artifacts.”
“Hmm.” She smiled and turned to Lord Gagingcliffe. “How about your family, my lord? Any traditions of someone handing down various objects, such as rings, snuffboxes, figurines, or perhaps artifacts of some kind?”
The baron chuckled. “Like Mr. Sawyer’s family, we have too many pieces that have been passed down through the years to even know. I can see where you, being a vicar’s daughter, would be interested in such traditions.”
“But we are not, Miss Stowe,” Georgina said in an overly sweet voice and with a bored expression. “It’s your turn.”
“Oh, yes, you’re right. It must be the sun keeping me off my game today. Thank you for reminding me.”
Ophelia made her play and then looked at her cards again without really seeing them. She didn’t like having to question the gentlemen about their family’s habits of collecting or not collecting objects, but she had to. Perhaps along the way an innocently worded question would lead her to hearing about someone who indulged in religious relics.
Three games of cards and a glass of champagne later, the ringing of a bell sounded in the distance, the hostess’ way of signaling they were to finish the hand they were playing and not start another. Mr. Sawyer teased Ophelia that she now had a time limit on how long she could hold her cards and wait to play her hand. She merely gave him an acceptable grin but was thankful when the second bell sounded and the gentlemen rose, said their goodbyes, and moved on to their next assigned table.
