The Bastard's World

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

Matthias paused, his glass of champagne halfway to his lips, when he saw the venomous look Lady Bayard was sending his way. Lowering his glass, he gave her a smirk and a small bow. In return, she presented him with her back. Apparently, Lord Bayard had told her to whom she’d had to give up the stand that set off her beloved crystal bowl so perfectly.

He shrugged off her obvious displeasure. It was no longer any concern of his. He was only attending this endless rout to keep his eye on Esmond. His man-of-affairs had unearthed some helpful information about Steading’s heir, particularly the fact that Steading had cut him off before the War began in earnest. Somehow, Esmond had continued to live very well for years after, until a few months ago.

That was enough to convince Matthias that Esmond was responsible for the disappearance of the fortune and likely involved in the Marquess’ death. It was enough for Matthias to see to Esmond’s death as well, but that would have to wait. Until he had tangible proof of his father’s innocence, Esmond was more useful to him alive.

In the meantime, Matthias would enjoy watching Esmond squirm in the face of financial ruin. Most men would have fled to the Continent or even America by now, but Esmond had merely taken up cheaper lodgings, continuing to make the rounds of the Season, and paying calls on many of the same people Matthias was interested in. Such an unlikely coincidence was the only reason Matthias was currently standing in an overcrowded, overheated ballroom watching as, for the second time, Esmond stood up to dance opposite a very pretty, golden-haired girl. He wondered if Esmond’s interest in the young lady was related to the globe or if he was simply—

“Searching for an heiress.”

Matthias glanced over at Walcott. He wasn’t sure why the man wanted to speak to him but wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity for more information about Esmond. “Is that so?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you? Everyone knows the man has to find himself an heiress as soon as may be. Shouldn’t be too troublesome—he stands to inherit a title, after all.”

While Matthias had a vague knowledge of most of the young ladies who were out on the market, he couldn’t place this one. “Who is she?”

“Never seen her before,” Walcott admitted. “Damned fine-looking girl, though. If she is an heiress, Esmond will have his work cut out for him. Any chit as pretty as that with a fortune to boot will have no end of offers.”

“Indeed,” Matthias agreed, then left the man’s side without bothering to excuse himself. There were many heiresses here tonight, but Esmond had shown an interest in only one. He had to find out who she was and could think of only one person present who would have all the information he needed.

He found that person seated at the far end of the ballroom. Grabbing another glass of champagne, he shouldered his way through the crowd toward a woman dripping with silk and diamonds. “Lady Talbot.” He bowed slightly, holding out the glass.

“Why how kind of you, Mr. Deverell.” Lady Talbot took the glass with a smile. Although she would never hold as much social power as Lady Jersey or Lady Cowper, she was still influential enough that a look was all it took to make everyone around her disappear as if by magic. “Do sit down.”

Matthias sat, allowing himself to relax as much as he ever did at such a gathering. The Lady and he had a long-standing agreement—whenever she played so deep at the tables that even the generous allowance she received could not cover her debts, Matthias paid them; in return she provided him with any information he required about the upper echelons of Society. She also refused to allow anyone to speak ill of him in her presence, for reasons that escaped Matthias—that wasn’t part of their arrangement. “You’re looking well this evening.”

“Pray don’t trouble yourself with small talk, Mr. Deverell. I know how you abhor it.” Lady Talbot took a small sip of champagne. “Simply tell me what you wish to know.”

His lips twisted into a rueful smile, but Matthias didn’t bother to argue the point. “The young lady dancing with Mr. Clarence Esmond.”

Lady Talbot gave him a sharp look at the name Esmond but didn’t comment on it. Instead, she looked out over the dance floor. “Ah, yes,” she nodded. “That is Miss Violet Rexford, daughter of the late Viscount Leighton. She is nineteen, but this is her first Season—her first ball, according to Lady Goring.”

“Under Lady Goring’s wing, then, is she?” Matthias allowed himself a small smile. It wasn’t likely that Esmond would get very far with a watchdog like Lady Goring standing guard.

“Oh, no,” Lady Talbot replied after another swallow of champagne. “Her elder sister has the duties of chaperone. Mrs. Audley, widow of the late Captain Audley.” She scanned the crowd and nodded across the floor. “There she is, speaking with young Beresford. My, he doesn’t look happy, does he? He seemed quite taken with Miss Rexford when they danced earlier. I daresay he doesn’t care for Mr. Esmond dancing with her as well.”

Matthias listened with half an ear. Most of his attention was taken by the young man standing behind Mrs. Audley. He had never seen him before, or he would have certainly remembered the fine form, golden curls, and excellent features that stopped just short of being pretty. “And the gentleman with Mrs. Audley?”

“Her brother, the current Viscount Leighton.” Lady Talbot shot him a brief, unreadable glance. “A handsome family.”

“A handsome family indeed,” Matthias replied automatically. “I recall hearing of a Viscount Leighton years ago.”

“Their father, most likely. Quite the wastrel, if I recall. He died some years ago, and Lady Leighton just these two years hence. Likely that is why there was no Season for the girl.” Lady Talbot finished her glass.

Matthias rose long enough to snag her another from a passing tray. “A wastrel, you say? Then there is no fortune there?” he asked, handing it to her.

“Nothing large enough for anyone to comment on. Why?” She slanted another glance at him. “Do you intend to make an offer?”

Matthias gave her a hard look. He’d never been entirely certain whether she knew about his preferences, and occasionally something in her tone suggested that she did. The notion was disconcerting enough that he made a deliberate effort not to think about it. “You know very well I have no intention of ever marrying. I’ll leave it for legitimate offspring to worry themselves about heirs. I was merely curious.”

“Your curiosity tends to work on my nerves.”

A snort escaped him. Matthias would back Lady Talbot’s nerves against the most dedicated gambler in the worst gaming hell any day. “Does that mean I can’t trouble you for an introduction?”

Yet another look, this one even more speculative.

“I assure you I have no designs on the Honorable Miss Violet Rexford,” Matthias said, even though he was under no obligation to explain himself.

“Very well, but we shall wait until Esmond has returned the young lady to her family and taken himself away. No amount of champagne would make me fool enough to force you to speak to the man in public.”