Bonham seemed unaware of the sarcasm.
Wait. Sheridan had read the Times this morning, and that bit of gossip wasn’t in it. “Which newspaper are you referring to, Bonham?”
“The London Society Times.”
Sheridan groaned. That same paper had been focused on his family since their arrival in England. Actually, it had probably been printing gossip about Grey since he’d set foot on English shores twenty-five years ago.
Well, perhaps not that long, but a long bloody time all the same.
“I can send you my copy if you wish,” Bonham offered when Sheridan’s silence went on a bit long.
“Thank you, but no need to trouble yourself. I’m sure I can find a copy in my club’s reading room.”
Bonham eyed him askance. “If you don’t mind my saying so, Your Grace, that’s somewhere else you might trim expenses: club dues.”
“Fortunately—or unfortunately, from your perspective—I don’t pay dues. My father won a lifetime membership or some such. Anyway, it’s free. Because if it weren’t, I would leave the club without a single qualm just to save those dues.”
Bonham did indeed look disappointed. Poor fellow had been working very hard to help Sheridan find some way out of the financial hole his uncle had dug for them years ago. What Bonham should have done was try to curb Uncle Armie’s excesses when his uncle had been alive. Then again, Uncle Armie hadn’t seemed to be the sort of fellow who let himself be guided by a mere man of affairs.
“Sheridan! There you are.” His mother marched into the study, waving a newspaper and not seeming to notice Bonham, who’d stood and moved to the side the moment she’d called Sheridan’s name. “Have you seen the London Society Times yet?” She dropped the paper onto his desk. “Did you intend for them to say all this about your courtship of Vanessa?”
He forced a smile. “Mother, Bonham is here. Perhaps we could save this discussion for later.” After Sheridan paid his visit to the Pryde town house to see if Vanessa had seen the paper. And if she had, how she was taking all this.
His mother stopped short to look about her. Sheridan could tell exactly when she spotted Bonham by her sudden blush. Was there indeed something going on between them? Or was she merely embarrassed to be talking about private matters in front of the man? With Mother, it was hard to tell.
Bonham bowed to Mother and then to Sheridan. “Actually, Your Grace, unless there’s something else, I will take my leave.”
“Thank you, Bonham,” Sheridan said. “I do believe that’s all. But I appreciate you coming such a long way for such a short meeting.”
Casting a speaking look at Sheridan’s mother, Bonham said, “I am always happy to visit Armitage House, Your Grace.” Then he left.
As soon as he’d gone into the hall, Mother opened her mouth, but Sheridan put a finger to his lips and walked over to close the door.
She cocked her head. “What was that for? I’m sure we can expect Bonham to be discreet.”
“But perhaps not the servants.”
“No doubt the servants have already read the gossip. So you’re being careful for nothing.”
As Sheridan returned to the desk, he gestured to the chair Bonham had vacated. “That might be the case, if the article is what I wish to discuss. But it isn’t. Not yet, anyway.”
After a quick, indrawn breath, she dropped into the chair. “So . . . um . . . what did you want to talk about?”
“Your conversations with Vanessa’s uncle last night.”
She stared at him defiantly. “I don’t care what that article says. It was nothing more than a harmless flirtation.”
A vise tightened around his chest. “Are you saying that the article mentioned you and Sir Noah specifically?”
Her defiance faded. “I-I thought you knew. Have you not read it?”
“Of course not.” When did he have time to read gossip these days?
He picked up the paper and scanned the columns until he found the portion Bonham and Mother had mentioned.
The impromptu event, held at the Thornstock town house in Mayfair, included dancing and supper for those select few fortunate enough to be invited. The Duke of Armitage danced first with Miss Pryde, his half brother’s cousin, and then later on managed to engage that same lovely woman for the supper dance. There have been rumors of late that Miss Pryde prefers the talented Mr. Juncker above everyone, but it didn’t appear to be the case last evening—the famous playwright only managed one dance with Miss Pryde to the duke’s two. Your faithful correspondent wagers we will soon hear wedding bells for Miss Pryde and the Duke of Armitage.
Sheridan grimaced. Vanessa was going to kill him. If people were assuming they were nearly engaged, she would have trouble changing that public perception so she could marry someone else. Since he was sure Juncker would never wed her anyway, that could materially damage her prospects for a betrothal with some other fellow who took her fancy.
But he still hadn’t seen anything about his mother, so he read on.
There were hints of other possible future weddings in the offing. The Dowager Duchess of Armitage was seen with Sir Noah Rayner more than once, and they looked most amiable. He, too, was successful in gaining her companionship for supper. Perhaps the fourth time is the charm for the duchess.
Anger welled up in Sheridan. “What is this . . . this arse trying to say?” He pinned his mother with a hard look. “That you were unhappy with all your previous husbands?” Like his father, for example?
It was foolish to be angry over that. His parents had never hidden the fact that their marriage had been one between friends, and romantic love hadn’t entered into the equation. Much as that stuck in his craw, it was something he and his siblings considered a truth of their family.
“So is this writer correct?” he went on. “Are you romantically interested in Sir Noah? Or are you simply using him to make Bonham jealous? Or pretending to be interested in him for other reasons?”
She shot out of the chair. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s my concern if you’re attempting to ‘investigate’ the death of Grey’s father by cozying up to Sir Noah.”
The pure shock on her face told him he’d made a false supposition.
Then her expression closed up with all the stubbornness he’d come to expect from his mother. “And what if I was?” She stared him down. “Weren’t you doing the same thing, trying to cozy up to Miss Pryde to get closer to her mother?”
God, but Mother was certainly good at understanding how her sons thought. Despite knowing what she was after, it put him on the defensive. “I told you before, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“No point in you trying to deny it. Before Grey left town yesterday, he told me what he was planning to have you do.”
That didn’t sound like Grey. “Did he really?”
“Are you saying I’m lying?”
Damn. If he wasn’t careful, this would degenerate into Mother making claims that he couldn’t prove or disprove. “You have been known to fudge the truth occasionally. Besides, I got the impression Grey was in a hurry to leave town. So I can’t see why he would visit you first.”