Good Dukes Wear Black (17 page)

“Unfortunately,” Trent said before Ophelia could respond, “Miss Dauntry has already promised the supper dance to me.”

Much as she'd have liked to disagree, it was the truth. She didn't care for the way Trent had spoken on her behalf. She had her mother for that, thank you very much. And again, he was behaving like a dog in the manger, growling to protect the bone he didn't even want.

“I'm afraid that's true, Lord Goring,” she said with feigned sadness to the viscount. “But I can save you a waltz.” She made sure to make it clear to Trent that she was not grateful in the least for his championship of her.

Even so, Lord Goring was suspicious. Surely she hadn't been that dismissive of him, she thought with a pang of guilt. “That will be quite acceptable, Miss Dauntry,” the viscount said after a nervous glance between Ophelia and Trent. “And perhaps you will take a turn with me on the terrace later?”

Much as she'd dislike the time with Goring, she agreed with a gracious nod. “That would be delightful, my lord,” she said, smiling. “I shall look forward to it.”

She felt Trent's gaze on her as she extended her hand to Lord Goring.

But now that his mission had been accomplished, Goring seemed to lose interest in her entirely, and bowed his good-bye.

“I am quite pleased to see you have decided to follow my advice,” Mrs. Dauntry said in a low voice, beaming at Ophelia once her favorite had left them. Then, not waiting for a reply, she turned and left them as well.

“I had hoped she'd have given up her plan to marry you off to Goring,” Leonora said, stepping up beside her. “He really is quite smarmy, isn't he?”

“An excellent description, my dear,” Freddy said from beside her. “He positively oozed with it.”

“He's not so very bad,” Ophelia objected, still wanting to keep up the pretense that she was interested in Goring while Trent was looking on.

“Surely she won't force you to marry him,” Trent said, frowning. “That would be a disaster.”

“I'm not sure why it should interest you, your grace,” Ophelia said coolly. “My mother wishes our families to be joined through a marriage between myself and Lord Goring. It is a private family matter.”

She held her head high though she felt Leonora and Freddie's startled gazes on her as well as Trent's baffled one.

“My apologies, Miss Dauntry,” he said stiffly. “I had thought that since you'd confided in me about the matter … well, I was wrong, clearly. I beg your pardon.” Then, excusing himself, he left them.

“Well, I have no compunction about counseling you against the match,” Leonora said, breaking into Ophelia's thoughts as she stared after Trent, giving her a quick hug. “No one should have to wake up to that cloying smile every day.”

A shudder ran through Ophelia at the very idea, and she felt bad for having been so cold to Trent. He was only trying to be her friend.

It wasn't his fault his kiss had meant nothing.

*   *   *

Having done his duty by dancing with several wallflowers, and stinging a bit over Ophelia's set-down, Trent made his way to one of the refreshment tables for a glass of what was sure to be tepid punch, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. Turning, he saw it was Freddy who indicated with a jerk of his chin that they should step away from the crowd.

Once they were standing in an empty pocket at the side of the ballroom, Freddy spoke up.

“What the devil was that about?” he demanded. “You greeted Goring as if you suspected him of having killed your favorite spaniel. And then Ophelia reacted as if he were the greatest thing since mint-flavored tooth powder. Which is not her usual reaction to that bounder.”

Turning to put his back against the wall, Trent shrugged. It wasn't as if he could tell him about the kiss he and Ophelia had shared yesterday. Nor was he ready to admit that he'd been jealous as hell at the sight of Goring's proprietary air.

“Don't know what you're talking about,” he said finally, deciding denial was his best course of action, and hoping Freddy would drop the matter so that they could speak of something else.

“You might be able to fob others off like that,” his oldest friend said with a scowl, “but it won't work with me. I've never seen you appear more unfriendly on meeting someone for the first time. And I sincerely doubt it has anything to do with the man's countenance. And that does nothing to explain Ophelia's reaction to him. Every other time she's encountered him she's all but openly cut him.”

“Something about him rubbed me the wrong way,” Trent admitted with a shrug, not daring to meet Freddy's gaze. “You said yourself the man is smarmy. No need to become distraught about it. As for Ophelia's reaction, I'm sure I don't know why she does anything.”

As soon as the words left his mouth he realized his mistake.

“Interesting you should say such a thing,” Freddy said, brows drawn, “when only this afternoon the two of you were finishing each other's sentences and seemed fast friends. What might have happened to set the cat among the pigeons? I wonder.”

“What's interesting?” asked the Earl of Mainwaring as he stepped into their little corner, a glass of champagne in his hand. “Leonora said something queer happened earlier but she wouldn't explain what.”

“Our Trent has developed a
tendre
for Miss Ophelia Dauntry,” said Freddy with a wink. “You missed seeing him slay his rival for her hand with a mere glance. It was something to behold. Truly.”

“Oh, is that all?” Mainwaring asked, obviously disappointed. “I'd guessed that already. Not the slaying bit but definitely the
tendre
bit.”

“I'd like to know how you can be so sure of it when I myself am unaware of any such thing,” Trent said in a low grumble.

“Well, as to that,” his friend said with a shrug, “it's not uncommon for the man to be the last to know. You agree, don't you, Freddy?”

Freddy nodded. “He's right. Creeps up on a fellow, love does. Like a thief in the night.”

“While I greatly appreciate your poetic imagery,” Trent said, crossing his arms over his coat of black superfine, “you are both talking bollocks. And couldn't be more wrong if you had suggested I was pining after Lady Sefton or Sally Jersey.

“Not to mention,” he added with a scowl, “that Ophelia is clearly not in the least bit interested in me, given the way she told me in not so many words to bugger off after I complained about Goring.”

“Oh,” Freddy said with a shake of his head. “That was just because you'd done something to offend her. Probably said something dismissive. Or, knowing how ladies react to things, you mightn't even have known you were doing it. They are rather inscrutable sometimes, ladies.”

“And, deny all you want,” Mainwaring said with a grin, “but you haven't seen your face when you think she's not looking.”

“Or when she enters a room unexpectedly,” Freddy added, nodding.

“And vice versa,” Mainwaring added with a wink at Freddy.

“Might we speak about something else?” Trent demanded, though he didn't take his gaze off where Ophelia and Goring continued to dance. “Perhaps you could tell me if you've learned anything more about Dr. Hayes?”

Doubtless realizing that they would get no more of a reaction out of Trent, the other men shrugged.

“I asked my mother if she'd heard anything untoward about Hayes,” Mainwaring said thoughtfully. “She had quite an interesting tale to tell. It seems that several years ago the good doctor was accused of wrongfully having a young heiress locked away.”

His full attention on the other man, Trent pressed him for more. “Go on.”

“Well, it seems Miss Langley's mother was afraid that the chit would have her head turned by a fortune hunter,” Mainwaring explained. “And since she, the mother, had no control over the inheritance Miss Langley was to receive, she decided her only recourse would be to have the girl locked away so the mother could be named trustee. Which she did.”

Freddy whistled. “How did the good doctor fit into this?”

“Hayes declared that Miss Langley was insane without ever having met the girl, and just as he did with Mrs. Grayson, he sent his thugs to abduct her and take her to his clinic,” Mainwaring said. “The only trouble was that the girl was of age, wasn't insane, and unbeknownst to her dear mama, had already secretly married the alleged fortune hunter.”

“What happened?” Trent demanded. He had a feeling that this story might be just what he and Ophelia needed to find Mrs. Grayson.

“The husband, a Mr. Volpe, protested the physician's orders in court and was able to have the new Mrs. Volpe removed from the clinic, and the court rebuked Dr. Hayes for attempting to take away the chit's freedom without ever having examined her.”

“That is definitely promising,” Trent said with a grin. “And if Hayes was willing to do the same thing in the case of Mrs. Grayson, perhaps he was willing to lie about Mrs. Grayson's actual condition in this case as well.”

“And this time he wasn't quite as scrupulous about checking the identity of the person requesting the declaration,” Freddy added. “But what's his incentive?”

“I'd be very surprised if he weren't demanding quite an exorbitant fee,” Trent said. “These families are in difficult positions, with a daughter or son embarrassing all of them in public. They're willing to pay just about any sum that Dr. Hayes demands of them just so that he'll lock them away, making the public displays stop. Why would he question their assurances of madness? He not only gets the initial fee for the declaration, but then they pay him monthly for room and board in his clinic.”

“But wouldn't the affair with Miss Langley, or Mrs. Volpe rather,” Freddy asked, his brow furrowed, “have damaged Hayes's reputation?”

“Not when it's his word against that of a fortune hunter and a purported madwoman,” Mainwaring said with a grim smile. “There was some mention of it in the papers, but they were more interested in the tale of poor duped Mrs. Volpe. And it didn't help that Volpe spent all of her fortune in short order. It made it look like Hayes was right in the first place.”

“Nice work, Mainwaring,” said Trent with a clap on his friend's shoulder. “O … I mean Miss Ophelia is going to be quite pleased at the news. If she is still speaking to me.”

Before Freddy or the earl could continue their good-natured ribbing of their friend, the set ended and Ophelia herself approached.

“Gentlemen,” she said gravely. “I hate to steal your friend away, but I believe you asked me for the supper dance, Trent.”

“I did,” he said, ignoring the way his friends were ogling their every move. Offering Ophelia his arm, he led her onto the floor.

As the opening notes of a waltz sounded, Ophelia took Trent's proffered hand and gazed at some point just over his left shoulder.

He'd danced the waltz countless times since it became fashionable in London, and before that in the ballrooms of Europe during the campaign against Napoleon. But as he placed his other hand at her waist, he found himself for the first time realizing just how intimate a thing it was.

“Miss Dauntry,” he said as they began to whirl across the ballroom floor. “Ophelia. Have I done something to offend you?”

And rather than answer him truthfully, to his disappointment, she smiled brightly. “Of course not, your grace,” she said. “Why would you think so?”

 

Twelve

Ophelia was quite sure Trent had seen right through her attempt to behave as if nothing were wrong. It was perhaps an overreaction on her part to have taken offense at his admission that he looked forward to their dances solely as a means for discussing Dr. Hayes.

But when she glanced up, Trent was frowning. “You seemed a bit annoyed, I suppose,” he said. “But if you say all is well, then I will take you at your word.”

It was difficult to hold on to her pique when he looked so confused about it, Ophelia thought as they twirled around the ballroom. “I was just,” she admitted, “a bit disappointed when you seemed more eager to talk about our investigation than actually dance with me. But it's silly. I see that now. My focus should be on finding Maggie. I apologize for being so silly.”

If anything, his frown deepened. “I would have thought it went without saying that I wished to dance with you,” he said. Was it her imagination or did he pull her just the slightest bit closer?

“It did?” She lowered her lashes, the intensity of his gaze making her heart beat a little faster.

“In fact,” he continued, in a voice only she could hear, “if anything, it was the investigation that I used as an excuse to dance with you. Not the other way round.”

She dared a glance up and he raised one dark brow.

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

They danced in silence for a few beats before she spoke up again. “Now that that's settled, we really should discuss the investigation.”

He looked as if he'd like to argue, but nodded. “Mainwaring might have gotten us some information that could be useful.”

“What is it? Has he learned something about Maggie?”

Quickly he told her the story of Mrs. Volpe, née Langley, who had been wrongfully imprisoned by Dr. Hayes.

As he related the tale, Ophelia became more and more disgusted and, at the same time, excited. “This is just the sort of thing I was hoping we'd learn,” she said, her eyes wide. “If we can confront Dr. Hayes with his wrongdoing in this case, perhaps we can leverage that to force him to tell us where Maggie is now.”

But Trent didn't seem as optimistic.

“Since the man has escaped thus far without suffering any consequences for his behavior,” he said, “I don't think he will be particularly afraid if we threaten him with exposure now. And without George we won't be able to prove that the writ was produced without Hayes having set eyes on Maggie.”