Lady Beware by Jo Beverley Page A

Van’s expression didn’t deny the challenge. “How can we help?”
    â€œWe?” Darien asked.
    â€œMaria and I. You must come over soon. She’s keen to meet you.”
    Darien doubted that. “Not yet. I appreciate it, truly, but I have few enough friends. I’ll not embarrass them.”
    â€œInstead, you’ll insult them? God knows what our social commitments are—women’s work—but come to dinner next Wednesday. In the meantime, we’ll support you at any public event.”
    â€œYour wife—”
    â€œWill agree.”
    â€œHave her so firmly under your thumb, do you?”
    Van laughed. “You have no idea how absurd that is. She’s already agreed to do anything she can. Suggested it, in fact.”
    â€œPerhaps she doesn’t understand. She’s a merchant’s widow, isn’t she? A foreign merchant.”
    Van laughed again, throwing his head back. “You really have no idea, do you? Maria, my lad, was born a Dunpott-Ffyfe. That may mean nothing to you, but the very top of the trees, I assure you. She’s cousin to the Duchess of Yeovil and linked on the family tree to just about anyone else of importance, including, I gather, the royalty of at least four countries. She’s over at Yeovil House now, weaving plans.”
    Darien went cold. Van’s wife was cousin to Lady Theodosia Debenham’s mother? And they were all three in the middle of a web of almost limitless social power? The discovery was like charging down on a vulnerable troop of soldiers and having the entire enemy army come over the crest of a hill.
    â€œI’ve assured Maria that you’re a sound ’un, top to toe,” Van said.
    Darien put down his cup. “You sound as if you have doubts.”
    Van’s eyes were steady. “No, but you’re up to something.”
    â€œI merely wish to be accepted in society as a reasonably normal human being.”
    â€œThen there should be no difficulty. Leave it to the women. That’s my advice.” Van rose. “I have an appointment, but Maria will come up with the right invitations for you to accept. Routs and such, I suspect. They’re just a matter of entering the house, greeting a few people, and leaving. You’ll have cards for those.”
    â€œI do. I’m surprised to receive invitations of any kind.”
    Van waved a hand. “There are all kinds of arcane rules, but all peers of the realm are invited to any gathering that can’t claim to be select. Then there’s the theater and perhaps some exhibitions. Being seen with Maria will carry weight.”
    â€œIt’s very kind of you,” Darien said, trying to decide if he should accept this sort of help.
    â€œDo you still box?” Van asked.
    â€œWhy? Itching to fight me?”
    â€œAlways,” Van said with a smile. “But it’s an activity where you’ll mingle with some of the men. Friday afternoon? We could go to Jackson’s.”
    â€œI’d like that.”
    Van grasped Darien’s arm briefly. “It’s good to be back together, Canem. And this time with death unlikely in the near future.”
    Darien showed Van out, hoping that was true.
    He was warmed by friendship but concerned about the new alignment of the chessboard. Three queens in play, and they could be three Fates, deciding if he would live or die.
    A moment’s consideration told him that he could no more affect that than he could affect the Fates, so he returned to the office and the incomprehensible ledgers. He’d not completed the comparison of two pages before there was another knock.
    What now?
    Something normal this time—Prussock brought the afternoon post. Darien scanned the three letters, hoping one was from Frank. No. One from his solicitor, another from his new agent at his Warwickshire estate, Stours Court, and a third with no indication of the sender.
    He snapped the seal and