Undercover Duke

could handle that aspect of the burden put on him as duke.
“Very well. You can keep your secrets to yourself.” Thorn moved closer. “But just so you know, Grey told me he was having you question his aunt Cora. Any luck?”
“Not yet. At the play, she was decidedly uncommunicative on the subject. I do wonder, however, if she stayed away from your party precisely because she doesn’t want to discuss what happened.”
“Or she wanted to give you and Vanessa time together.”
Sheridan gritted his teeth. “I told you, Vanessa and I—”
“I know, I know. You’re just friends.” He shook his head. “You might be able to find out something from Vanessa, you know.”
“Vanessa wasn’t even born until after both your father and Grey’s were dead.”
“I don’t mean about those murders. I mean about your father’s murder. My true father’s murder. Because you know I consider him my only father.”
“Of course.” Sheridan had no doubt of it. All three of his half-siblings had grown up as his Father’s children, with only Grey leaving home as a boy. Thorn and Gwyn hadn’t even been born when their own father died. “But I don’t see how Vanessa would know anything about either of the two later murders. Surely you’re not suggesting that Lady Eustace actually went out to meet Father in the country and shoved him off a bridge. Why, she’s older than Mother!”
Thorn shot him a rueful smile. “And you think our mother too old to push someone off a bridge?”
“I guess she could, but—”
“You’re right.” Thorn sighed. “I don’t believe any of our suspects could do that, either.”
“Or pull Uncle Armie off of his horse a few months earlier.”
“Precisely.” Thorn cocked his head. “But if one of them—Lady Eustace, for example—hired someone like Elias to do it, Vanessa might have seen the fellow. Or heard her mother talk about him or to him.”
Sheridan nodded absently. A young criminal they’d uncovered during their investigation, Elias had been murdered before revealing who’d hired him. “I suppose. I’ll see if I can learn anything from either of them.” Remembering what Olivia had said, Sheridan stared at his brother. “And how is it going with the questioning of Lady Norley?”
“Oh, God,” Thorn muttered. “I can’t do that myself. She’s my mother-in-law, for pity’s sake. She’ll hate me.”
A laugh escaped Sheridan. Olivia had been serious about that. “So? Have your wife do it.”
“She will. But we just got married, and frankly, I don’t think Lady Norley’s capable of it.”
Sheridan smirked at his brother. “I see. Don’t want to rock the boat.”
“You have no idea. Just wait until you’re married, and then you’ll understand.”
Not if I have anything to say about it. Sheridan saw their mother approaching.
“Olivia is looking for you,” she told Thorn, blessedly keeping Sheridan from having to answer his brother. “She’s in the ballroom.”
“We’ll talk about this more later,” Thorn told Sheridan before walking off to find his wife.
“What were you discussing?” Mother asked.
Sheridan forced a smile. “Nothing important.”
Mother stared hard at him for a moment, but she’d always had an uncanny ability to recognize when her sons shouldn’t be probed for more information. “If you say so.”
“I thought you were going to dance with Sir Noah again.”
She shrugged. “Later. Although I suspect the dancing is dying down. With this small a crowd—”
“Small! There must be thirty people in there at least.”
“That’s barely enough to get a good cotillion going.”
“Is that such a necessity?”
“Of course.” She tapped his arm with her fan. “I should hope you would be part of it.”
Propriety dictated he couldn’t dance with Vanessa again, and he wasn’t in the mood to dance with any other woman. “Some of the gentlemen are playing cards. I mean to join them.”
“Oh, very well.” She paused, then added, “I like your young lady.”
That put Sheridan instantly on alert. “What young lady?”
“You know very well whom I mean. Miss Pryde. Cora’s daughter.”
“She is hardly my young lady.”
“Oh? She as much as told me you were courting.”
“Did she?” Why should that surprise him? It was exactly what they were supposed to be doing—pretending to court. “I suppose the cat is out of the bag now.”
“You were trying to keep it secret?” Mother asked in a deceptively neutral tone.
No wonder she hadn’t probed him about Thorn’s remark. She’d been saving her ammunition for this.
Then he wouldn’t disappoint her. “Secret from you? Absolutely. I know how you get when you’re trying to determine if someone is good enough for one of your children.”
She looked insulted. “And how is that?”
He hid a smile. “Nosy, intrusive, frighteningly direct.”
“For your information, I was none of those things.” She sniffed. “I merely wanted to make sure you weren’t taking advantage of her.”
Sheridan tensed. “Now why would I do such a thing?”
“So you can get close to her mother and find out what Cora knows about my first husband’s murder.”
Damn. His mother was far too intuitive. It was how she’d survived all the deaths—the murders, possibly—of her husbands. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“Isn’t it? You’re playing with the heart of a lovely young woman. I’d rather see none of you solve Maurice’s murder than have you harm an innocent like Miss Pryde.”
He drew himself up. “Do you really think me capable of that, Mother?”
“I think you capable of . . . doing what you must to get what you want.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said sarcastically. “But Miss Pryde isn’t remotely interested in me.”
His mother cocked her head to one side. “No?”
“No. She has her heart set on Juncker. And I promised to help her get him by courting her so she could make him jealous.”
“Juncker? The playwright?”
“What other Juncker is there?” he said irritably.
Mother burst into laughter. “Oh! Oh, dear . . . that’s rich.”
“What’s so funny?”
She shook her head. “You poor deluded fools.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “To whom are you referring?”
“You and Miss Pryde, of course.” She patted his shoulder. “I withdraw my concern. Clearly the two of you have everything quite well in hand.”