‘I would not describe Pointings Manor, our own country home, as a great house.’ Lady Peter’s voice held no great affection. ‘It is considerably smaller and older. Very easy to leave while I was needed here.’
‘It must have been a sacrifice, even so. And what devotion to duty, to raise what must, in effect, have been another son, when all the time your own, the elder, would not be the heir of all this.’ Her gesture took in the drawing room, the house, the entire ducal estate.
‘When one marries a younger son, one marries his sense of duty to the family.’
‘Of course. And then for the Duke to be abroad in such dangerous and far-flung places! Again, duty must have come to your aid and impelled you to raise Mr Thorne so that, if the worst happened – ’ That could have been more tactfully put, Sophie! ‘– your own son could rise to the occasion as the heir. I must say how much I admire you for that.’
The silence that followed that crashingly tactless observation was so prolonged that Sophie risked a sideways glance at her hostess. Lady Peter was biting her lower lip, a demonstration of emotion that seemed extreme for such a rigorously controlled woman.
‘However ambitious a mother is for her son it is also her duty to raise him in the expectation that he makes his own way in the world within the sphere in which he finds himself,’ she said with dignity. ‘For Ralph to have succeeded as duke would require a tragedy to have happened and I am certain he never had any thought of such an eventuality.’
But he had, or, his father had. And beside her Lady Peter was looking at her husband, her expression unreadable. Lord Peter? Ambitious for himself and Ralph, or only for his son? A man who would sacrifice his own honour and duty to see his son a duke? She did not believe for a moment now that the woman at her side had tried to poison her nephew by marriage, and she rather thought that Lady Peter’s initial chilliness towards herself was due to suspicion that no woman was good enough for Cal. But something disturbed her inner peace, something made her suspicious of her husband’s intent, even though Sophie doubted she had ever articulated those fears to herself.
‘Dinner is served, my lady.’
Lady Peter pulled herself up as though startled out of thoughts that were a long way away, but she rose to her feet and supervised the ordering of her guests with calm authority. She had apparently decided on some informality for this second dinner and the long table had been split into three and another round table added to the vast dining room. The pairings to go into dinner had been changed, with less attention to the rank of guests and more to introducing those who had been separated the night before.
Sophie found herself with Toby to her left and Lord Faversham, Christobel’s husband on her right, at one of the rectangular tables. Lady Beauville, the mother of Penelope, one of the bridesmaids, was shown to her seat by Mr Wraythorne, Belinda’s father, and finally they were joined by Jonathan Ransome escorting Mrs Pickering, who, Sophie gathered, was a bosom friend of Lady Peter’s.
Jonathan checked the place cards and seated himself halfway down the table, within easy earshot of Sophie and in her direct line of sight as she sat at the foot of the board with Mr Wraythorne at the head.
Under her firm direction the conversation turned to how the guests had spent the day. Toby was delighted by the opportunity to purchase one of the litter of pointer puppies that the head gamekeeper had shown the men and that discussion turned naturally to the horses in the stables and then to Lord Faversham’s assessment of the countryside around for hunting.
Mrs Pickering then entertained them for ten minutes with a plant-by-plant description of her newly-designed parterre and Sophie relaxed when Lord Faversham’s previously unknown passion for gardening was revealed and the two of them drew everyone into a discussion on whether the London parks were better left as they were or should be landscaped with more flower beds.
She had begun to relax so much that when the gardening discussion flagged she was taken unawares by Jonathan.
‘And how did you spend the day, Miss Wilmott?’ he asked with his most charming smile.
‘Exploring the further reaches of the park with the Duke,’ she responded with a smile equally as calculated as his. ‘We looked at the ruins of the ancient medieval castle up in the hills and I learned much about the history of the area.’
‘Fascinating,’ he said warmly. ‘You must be becoming so attached to this place. What a wonderful future for you.’
‘Indeed.’ She imbued the agreement with just the slightest edge of reproof at his very personal comment and turned to look at the man at the other end of the table. ‘Mr Wraythorne, Belinda tells me you are thinking of spending some time at Weymouth later this year. Is it a resort you know well?’
Please let Mr Tanner have found something, please let him write and the letter be there tomorrow.