Thorn began ticking those off on his fingers. “Lady Eustace went to bed. I gather she tires easily. Sir Noah went into Sanforth, hoping to find some cardplayers at the nearest tavern, since none of us wanted to join him in a game. Bonham returned to London. Apparently he had business affairs to take care of, probably for you. Lady Norley retired to read in her room, and Lady Hornsby left almost immediately after the ceremony to return to . . . wherever she’s been the past week. Didn’t you notice she wasn’t at the bridal feast?”
“I was rather preoccupied at the time, if you’ll recall. Still, it’s curious, don’t you think?”
“Definitely. But it’s Gwyn’s task to interrogate Lady Hornsby, so it’s not my problem.”
“Your problem is to question your mother-in-law,” Sheridan said, “which I gather you haven’t yet managed to do. Good luck to you.”
Instead of turning defensive, Thorn smirked at him. “And now your problem is to question your mother-inlaw. Good luck to you, too. I’ll take Lady Norley over Lady Eustace any day.” He clapped an arm about Sheridan’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go see what everyone else has found out.”
As soon as they entered the drawing room, the comments began. His brothers tormented him about coming down so soon after going up with his wife. Their wives rolled their eyes and shook their heads, and in general pretended their husbands weren’t a group of jokers and buffoons.
Mother was the only one who glared—at each of her sons in turn. “Leave him be, all of you. Sheridan and Vanessa will find their way, no thanks to you lads.”
Heywood laughed. “Lads! We’re grown men with wives, Mother. Besides, even Saint Sheridan can endure a few jests at his expense on his wedding night.”
“‘Jests’ would imply that your remarks are funny,” Sheridan quipped as he walked over to the brandy decanter and set down his plate just long enough to pour himself a glass. “So far, all I’ve heard is a lot of juvenile bluster.”
That started his brothers trying to outdo each other with witty insults. It didn’t last long because Sheridan’s cousin Joshua, who was also a major in the Royal Marines and technically Sheridan’s brother-in-law, stood in the midst of the room and cried, “Enough!”
When that quieted everyone, Joshua added, “May I remind you we have a limited amount of time to do this? Sir Noah might return at any minute, or one of the other suspect ladies come down to see what all the commotion is. We need to get on with it, but without creating too much noise. Understood?”
His family muttered something to the effect that they did.
Then Joshua turned to Sheridan. “Do you wish to wait until your wife can join us to discuss the investigation into her mother?”
Damn.
He took his time about finding a chair near a table so he didn’t have to balance a plate and glass on his lap.
“Yes, Sheridan, do you?” Thorn asked smugly. “Or could it be that you haven’t actually told Vanessa yet?”
“I just got married today,” Sheridan ground out. “I haven’t had time to tell her.”
Olivia eyed him closely. “Thorn told me before we were even engaged.”
“You were in love.” Sheridan set the plate down on the table. “That’s different.”
“Not then we weren’t,” Thorn said. “Or at least we weren’t admitting it to each other.”
“Although to be fair,” Olivia said, “Thorn sort of let his suspicions—his unproven suspicions—about Mama slip out. If he hadn’t, I might still not know.”
“That’s not true,” Thorn said. “I would have told you before we married, I’m sure.”
She lifted an eyebrow, then turned to Sheridan. “And when I found out what he suspected Mama of doing, I did give him grief for it.”
“My point entirely,” Sheridan said, taking a swig of brandy. He’d need it for this discussion. “I’d rather have at least a couple of days of wedded bliss before I broach something liable to cause contention.” He set down his glass. “Besides, it’s really none of her concern.” When his brothers and Joshua all groaned and their wives looked daggers at him, he said, “What? It isn’t. She had naught to do with any of it. She wasn’t even born until ten years afterward. I’m only protecting her from the truth about her mother.”
His own mother snorted. “You’re not protecting her from that. In some respects she already knows the truth about Cora. You’re protecting Vanessa from learning why she really had to marry you. Because we all know that if not for this investigation, which you performed under cover of being her friend, you would never have ended up married to her.”
“That’s not true,” he protested. Except he knew it was.
Then a voice came from the doorway. “What investigation is your mother talking about?”
Oh, God, no. Vanessa walked into the room wearing his banyan, which thoroughly engulfed her. With his heart hammering in his chest, he rose. “Nothing to worry you, Vanessa. Go on back to bed. I’ll be there shortly.”
“I’m not leaving.” The coldness in her eyes froze his blood. “Not until I find out what investigation you’re talking about. And what in the devil it has to do with my mother.”
Chapter Fifteen
With all eyes on her, Vanessa felt exposed, vulnerable. Her only consolation was that they weren’t looking at her as if they took her for a fool. Instead, they regarded her with sympathy. She had allies here, thank heaven.
Sheridan was probably not one of them.
Had it really only been scant minutes ago that she’d awakened from a blissful slumber to find him gone? That she’d come looking for him, thinking to discover him in a pantry somewhere and not surrounded by his family? It seemed forever ago.
“Someone please tell me what I missed,” she said through the lump of unshed tears in her throat. She’d known he hadn’t married her for love—she hadn’t expected that. But she’d thought he’d been spending time making Juncker jealous because he really cared about her. Because they were “friends.”
She’d been wrong. He hadn’t even cared that much. Although it hadn’t stopped him from taking her to bed, had it?
Since no one had answered, she pressed on, unable even to look at him right now. “Let me see if I have this straight. You have all been investigating something having to do with Mama. And Sheridan was the one charged with questioning her ‘under cover’ of being my friend. Is that right?”
For a moment, the room was utterly silent, giving her a chance to remember all the times Sheridan had seemed more interested in her mother than in her, all the strange questions he’d asked, and, worse yet, the many ways Mama had avoided answering him.
“Well?” she repeated, impatient now. “Is it?”
The room exploded with explanations, too many for her to take in. But only Sheridan approached her, inexplicably holding a plate of food and a glass of brandy, as if they were peace offerings. “Perhaps you and I should go somewhere private so I can explain, sweetheart.”
She glared at him. “You have little chance of that, darling. I need your family here to keep you honest.”