Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Johanna
When her husband did not appear by suppertime, Johanna was becoming worried, but his grandmother waved her hand.
“He’s newly married, dear. When he gets home, you will tell him that the expectations of a married gentleman and an unwed gentleman are very different and that he will need to start returning home at a reasonable time.” Lady Stark was very confident in how the duke should be managed.
Johanna was not feeling so confident in her ability to manage him, but she supposed she would have to at least try.
Whatever his business was, it must have been important. She should not take it as a slight against herself.
Her sister, on the other hand, had no such reasonable compunction.
“What do you mean he is not joining us for supper?” Bridget appeared even more put out at the revelation than Johanna had been.
Seated at the table, she leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. Beside her, Micah appeared disappointed as well, though he was far more quiet about it.
“He is your husband, and he is supposed to be here.”
“He was called away for something important this morning, remember?” Johanna reminded her gently, though part of her felt very much the same. “I am sure he would be here if he could.”
“Well, I think it is very ill done of him.”
“It depends on how important his business is,” Rose muttered, but the look of disapproval on her face said she agreed more with Bridget than Johanna.
“He will learn,” Lady Stark said, though she looked as though she wanted to smile. At least she did not seem put out at Bridget’s criticism of her grandson. “It is his first time being a husband, after all.”
Bridget thought about that for a moment, tilting her head to the side.
“That is true. Should he not have learned from his father, though?”
Lady Stark sniffed.
“Unfortunately, his father was not the paragon he thought he was, at least not when it came to family. I would be surprised if he showed up for a meal with Matthew and my daughter more than once a fortnight.” There was a dark look in her eyes.
“Though I doubt either of them missed him and would have been happy to have his presence afflict their suppers even more sparsely.”
Frowning, Bridget looked to Johanna, who shook her head, mystified.
Obviously, Lady Stark had not cared very much for her son-in-law, duke or not.
It did explain why Matthew might not have thought that attending supper this evening was very important.
If his father had rarely been around for meals…
while Matthew had already taken quite a few with her and her family.
But unlike Matthew and his mother, she truly enjoyed his presence. Apparently, her siblings did, too. Even Charlotte was hanging on to every word being spoken, absorbing all of it without commentary.
“Our father attended every supper with us, even if he was not there for the other meals,” Bridget announced. “That’s the kind of husband I want.”
Johanna started at Bridget’s pronouncement because she had not thought Bridget would remember that. Although their father was not a forbidden topic in their household, they did not often speak of him. Perhaps Johanna or Micah had said something about it once, and Bridget remembered that.
“The desire for your husband’s company will very likely depend on whether you enjoy his company,” Lady Stark said.
“Why would I marry a man whose company I do not enjoy?” Bridget appeared taken aback at the very notion.
“Many reasons.” Lady Stark waved her hand. “While some couples at our rank marry for affection, there are all sorts of other reasons, too. Connections, money, alliances… and a man during courtship is often quite different from a man during marriage, unfortunately.”
“You mean they are dishonest?”
“Yes,” Lady Stark stated bluntly. “Which is something to keep in mind after you debut and men begin to court you.”
Johanna found the back-and-forth between Bridget and Lady Stark fascinating. Her mother had not spoken so baldly about marriage with Johanna. Their parents had been a love match, and that was what she and her siblings had grown up hearing about.
Stymied by Lady Stark’s truthfulness, Bridget subsided, appearing to be deep in thought. Johanna smiled inwardly and turned to Micah.
“How was your reading today?” she asked him. Though he did not have a tutor—yet—she knew that he’d set himself the task of reading the entirety of The Iliad, which had been their father’s favorite book. He’d found a copy of it in Matthew’s library yesterday and asked to borrow it.
That neatly turned the conversation away from Matthew’s absence and the topic of marriages for the rest of the meal, to Johanna’s relief.
Even though they had only come together a few days ago, she was already used to his presence, and it made her sad to look at his empty seat.
Despite the fact she had not married for love—she had married for a multitude of the reasons Lady Stark had listed—the truth was that she did rather like her husband.
She liked being around him. She liked speaking with him. She liked touching him.
And after last night and this morning, she would have very much liked to have his company.
Perhaps he did not feel the same way, though. Or perhaps the business he was attending to was very important. She was curious what he might have to do with the other dukes, but she was uncertain if it was her place to ask.
Once supper finished, they retired to the drawing room. Lady Stark allowed herself to be drawn into a game of spilikins with Bridget and Charlotte, much to Rose and Johanna’s amusement. Micah tucked himself into an armchair with his book.
She and Rose sat by the window seat—not because she was watching for Matthew’s return, it was just the most convenient spot—to work on their needlework by lamplight.
Matthew
The usual luck Matthew lived by was not aiding their search.
Cornwall was in neither of the two establishments they visited.
Matthew mentally shrugged and flipped his coin again.
Perhaps they should be looking elsewhere, but he and Drake were the only ones among their coterie who could search at this level.
Any of the others walking into these rooms would cause comment and curiosity.
Even now, they were getting occasional sidelong looks, although perhaps that was because it was so early in the day.
“Perhaps he is not awake yet,” Matthew murmured to Drake as they left The Fiddling Magpie, the second location they’d tried. “Has anyone checked his house?”
Drake shot him a sharp look.
“Of course I did. And his mistress’ house. And his mother’s.”
Well, trust Drake to be thorough. Matthew shrugged and sighed, pulling out his coin to see what direction they should head in next.
“Maybe we should try using something other than your luck for the moment,” Drake said dryly. “Let’s go to the Pearl and Buck next since it is on the next street over.”
Nodding, Matthew flipped his coin anyway, then grinned at Drake.
“I agree.”
Pressing his lips together, Drake looked like he was trying not to smile. Truth be told, Matthew was enjoying this excursion with him more than he’d thought he would. As serious as he was, Drake also seemed unbothered and amused by Matthew’s coin.
He also did not do some of the things that Matthew would have expected.
Though the doxies had recognized him at the Magpie, he had not leered at them or made any coarse remarks, though Matthew was fairly certain he’d seen Drake slipping one of them a pouch.
He would be willing to bet his lucky coin that the pouch had been full of money.
What Drake was up to with the seedy venues he frequented, Matthew was not sure, but he was becoming more and more certain that it had nothing to do with bedding as many ladybirds as he could before his wedding night. No matter what Drake said. He was up to something.
But Matthew had bigger mysteries to attend to at the moment than why Drake was so determined to present himself as the worst of dissolute rakes before he finally wedded Lady Astrid.
“Tomorrow, I am going to start sorting through Falmouth’s finances,” he told Drake. “To see what I can recover for him. Would you like to help?”
For a moment, he thought Drake was going to say yes, then the other man shook his head regretfully.
“Unfortunately, I have other matters I must attend to. Let me know if you need some extra weight to lean on the bankers.”
“I will.” One did not look a gift duke in the mouth, after all, even if one was already a duke. Two dukes were better than one and all that.
They walked into the Pearl and Buck, and it took a moment for Matthew’s eyes to adjust. Despite the brightness of the day, the interior of the bar was dark, even in the front room where patrons were doing no more than eating and drinking.
The windows were shuttered, only bits of light seeping in from the outside.
It was not very crowded, and they quickly made their way past the suspicious bartender to the much larger backroom.
Here, the windows had heavy, dark curtains drawn over them, and the only light came from flickering flames in the lamps.
There were more men back here, possibly having stayed overnight, some of them not even realizing it was midmorning already.
Matthew elbowed Drake in the side and nodded to a table in the corner where a group of four gentlemen were playing hazard. Cornwall sat with them, looking fresher than his companions, and Matthew would be willing to bet that he had recently arrived.
They did not make straight for him, so as not to cause alarm, but separated and sat down at two of the other tables instead.
The crowd was a mix between noblemen and wealthy merchants or their sons.
Names were not needed, though one of the men immediately got up after he sat down, obviously recognizing the Lord of Luck.
Matthew grinned, unbothered.
He did not stay at any one table for too long—doing so had a tendency to enrage the other players.
Just long enough to win a handy sum at each before moving on.
Anyone who did not recognize him would assume he was leaving before his lucky streak could end—not knowing that it would not.
Anyone who did recognize him was grateful he only lightened their purses a little before leaving.
Eventually, he managed to end up at the same table as Cornwall, with Drake at the table beside them. The earl looked up as Matthew came to the seat beside him, a fleeting expression crossing his face that made Matthew think the earl meant to flee.
“Cornwall,” he said, clapping his hand on the man’s shoulder and grinning widely, keeping the earl in his seat as Matthew sat beside him. Seeing Matthew’s friendly demeanor, the earl seemed to relax. “How goes it? You missed the tournament at the Tramp’s Den.”
“I did. Business to attend at home. You know how it goes.” Cornwall seemed resigned to losing some of his money to Matthew.
The other two players seemed vaguely familiar, though he could not place either of them.
They clearly knew each other, and they seemed to recognize him and, like Cornwall, were resigned to losing a few hands.
They had likely noted that he did not stay in any one place for too long, so they might as well play, then they could continue on at this table once he left.
Matthew could practically read their thoughts as he’d watched so many others make the same calculation.
“I do indeed,” Matthew replied jovially. “It’s been a busy Season. I just got married yesterday, you know.”
Cornwall jerked in surprise as he picked up his cards. “I did not. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Matthew looked at his own hand and smiled. He always smiled, so it did not really matter what the others thought. “This Season is full of ducal weddings. First Clarence, then Hereford, and now myself. I cannot help but wonder who will be next.”
“Care to make a wager on it?” one of the other men, a swarthy fellow with dark hair, asked and his companion nudged him in the side with his elbow. “What? He cannot be lucky at everything. There’s no way to know which of the tragic dukes will fall to the altar next.”
Cornwall winced at the mention of the tragic dukes, his head dropping to look at his cards, but it also hid his expression. Matthew pretended not to notice. He could tell Drake was listening closely at the next table, even if his attention appeared to be fully on the game in front of him.
“You might be surprised.” Matthew grinned, pulling out his coin and rubbing its surface. “Would you care to make the wager?”
The other man eyed him. His companion shook his head ruefully at the folly.
“Let’s focus on the game at hand,” the other man said after a moment. “No need to make wagers right now, I s’pose.”
Matthew shrugged, because it made no difference to him. He was curious which of his friends would be next, but without the wager, he was not certain his luck would work on informing him.
“Condolences for your father,” the swarthy fellow said. “I did not mean to be callous.”
“That is alright,” Matthew replied cheerfully.
He was feeling quite cheerful and very much in debt to the swarthy fellow.
How lucky that the man was bringing up the exact right things Matthew wanted to speak with Cornwall about.
“It was a tragic accident, but I believe we’ve all since recovered.
And it could have been worse. You were there, weren’t you, Cornwall?
” Matthew already knew he had not been, but he wanted to see how Cornwall reacted.
The earl jerked, his face paling as his head snapped up so he could look at Matthew.
“I… What?”
Now the other two were looking at him with interest, too.
“You were there when the elder dukes died?” the swarthy fellow asked. Despite his apology to Matthew, he was obviously rabidly curious about the whole thing. Matthew could not blame him. He could not think of a single time in history when so many British dukes had been lost at the same time.
“I, ah, no.” Cornwall shook his head vehemently.
“I was invited, but I did not attend. I fell sick at the last moment. I… sometimes wonder if being there, if I might have been able to… help.” There was heavy guilt in his voice and his face as he swallowed hard, and Matthew got the impression he truly felt as though he should have been there.
Which was interesting.
“I apologize for bringing it up,” he said. “Hereford said that you’d invited his father, and I assumed.”
“I should have been there.” Cornwall looked down at his cards, but it did not seem as though he was truly seeing them. The guilt was still writ large over his expression.
Across the table, Drake looked over at them with a frown, his gaze connecting with Matthew.
Whatever was going on with Cornwall, it was not what they’d expected.