Mistress - Amanda Quick [61]
Marcus moved very deliberately away from the mantel. He crossed the room to where Iphiginia sat on the Grecian sofa and halted directly in front of her. “Men have died making points such as yours.”
“Perhaps, but I do not believe they have died by your hand, sir. You are much too intelligent to go about issuing challenges over such trivial matters.”
“You think a man’s honor is a trivial matter?”
“No, of course not. And neither is a woman’s honor. But one cannot prove one’s honor on a dueling field, can one? The truth is not established by lodging a bullet in someone else.”
Marcus leaned over her, one hand on the arm of the sofa, the other braced on the curved back. She was trapped in the corner. “Be that as it may, a well-lodged bullet has a remarkably quieting effect on gossip.”
“I doubt it. It merely drives it underground. But who gives a fig about gossip? You and I have the luxury of being virtually immune to gossip, do we not, my lord?”
“There are limits to everything, Iphiginia, and you have reached the limits of my indulgence. A mistress-in-name-only can tread only so far and no farther.”
“How would you know, sir? You have already admitted that you have never had a mistress-in-name-only before.”
Amelia held up a hand. “I think it would be an excellent notion to put an end to this nonsense before your quarrel grows any more ludicrous.”
Marcus glanced at her. “You’re quite right, Miss Farley. Thank you for injecting a note of reason into the situation.”
“You’re welcome.”
Marcus straightened and started to prowl the room. “Now, then, let us get back to more important matters. Another interesting possibility has just struck me.”
Iphiginia sat forward and fluffed her skirts in the manner of a small cat grooming herself after she had been rudely disturbed. “What is that, sir?”
“I have been thinking about the statement that started our argument.”
“Your observation that one’s man of affairs is often in a position to gain a great deal of private information?” Iphiginia gave him a curious look. “What of it?”
“It occurs to me that such men are not the only ones who have access to extremely personal information. There are other people stationed in many of the best households who come to know things that are very private.”
Amelia studied him intently. “You refer to servants? I do not believe this blackmail is the work of a servant.”
“I agree,” Iphiginia said quickly. “Whoever is behind this feels at home in Society. Do not forget he was aware of your personal plans for a month in the country, sir.”
“And that business with the phoenix seal indicates some familiarity with classical subjects,” Amelia added. “A servant would be unlikely to make such associations.”
“The notes are written with a fine, well-trained hand,” Iphiginia put in. “We all agreed in the beginning that the writing is well formed and the language of the notes indicated an educated intellect.”
Marcus looked at her. “A governess or a companion would have such a background.”
Iphiginia and Amelia stared at him with startled expressions.
“Good lord,” Amelia whispered. “He’s right, Iphiginia. Governesses and companions occupy a place somewhere between the servants’ quarters and the drawing room. They are as well educated as their employers and yet they remain as unnoticed as the servants in most households.”
Iphiginia leaped upon the possibilities. “And while she would not go to balls and soirees, a governess or companion would have access to the most intimate details of the lives of her employers. She would hear things and see things.”
Marcus frowned. “My hypothesis would mean that we are searching for a woman who would know the most intimate secrets of at least two households.”
“Someone who worked in Aunt Zoe’s household at one time and then in your friend’s household.” Iphiginia looked at Marcus. “How old is your friend’s secret, my lord?”
Marcus hesitated, debating how much he could divulge without betraying Hannah’s confidence. “The events for which she is being blackmailed