Lord of Deceit (Heiress Games Book 2) by Sara Ramsey

missions. She was supposed to be a potential source of information, and nothing more than that.
    That didn’t explain why he was quite so disappointed when she had disappeared from London.
    “My foolish errand won’t seem so foolish in the morning,” Thorington said, bringing Rafe back to the matter at hand. “Anthony won’t like it, but he’ll adjust.”
    Rafe knew Thorington was baiting him. And anyway, Rafe had already guessed that Thorington intended to make Anthony marry one of the Briarley heiresses. It was the best chance Anthony, as a third son with no inheritance, would have at getting an estate of his own.
    Thorington was right, at least about the first part. Anthony most certainly wouldn’t like it. Rafe would have encouraged Thorington to pursue the subject with more diplomacy, if Thorington had asked for his advice.
    But Thorington never asked for advice.
    Rafe yawned. “Fascinating, I’m sure. I think it’s past time you were in bed.”
    “The sun has only just set.”
    “Country hours and all that,” Rafe said. “If you won’t take me into your confidence, I shall send you to bed without supper.”
    They’d had dinner hours earlier, and there was no need for supper. The innkeeper had gone to great lengths to feed them well during their stay. As he should have — Thorington had rented the entire inn for three weeks, and the innkeeper was happy to cater to their every whim. The public room will still available to the villagers, but business had returned to its usual levels after the first week, when the locals no longer came in to gawk at the duke and his family. At the moment, there were a few groups of men and women laughing and drinking around them, but for the most part, the village was quiet.
    Too quiet. He’d tried, over the past three weeks, to glean any gossip he could. None of them would say anything, even when he bought ale for the entire room. And even though he saw disapproval in most eyes when he mentioned Octavia’s name, he also saw loyalty. He’d bought information in some of the most close-lipped villages on the Peninsula. But these villagers would die before they said anything disparaging about a Briarley.
    Thorington didn’t know anything about this, of course. He was too deep into his own plotting to notice that Rafe also had a scheme — which was exactly how Rafe wanted it. He had enough problems without Thorington mucking up his plans.
    So he was relieved when Thorington drained the rest of his whisky and stood up. “I will see you in the morning, then.”
    Rafe watched him go. Thorington would check on their siblings before bed. Anthony, Serena, and Portia were upstairs in a room they’d taken as a sitting room, no doubt arguing with each other while playing cards. Thorington didn’t like for their sisters to join them in the public room downstairs, so he kept them penned up — waiting, as Rafe did, for answers.
    There was going to be trouble there someday. Thorington meant well, but he’d become rigid in the last decade. Rafe supposed a dukedom, with all the power and all the responsibility, did that to someone. Thorington still unbent around Rafe sometimes, but he rarely treated the younger set as anything more than children.
    But that wasn’t Rafe’s problem at the moment. As soon as Thorington disappeared up the stairs, he signaled the innkeeper.
    Mr. Barker hurried over, greeting Rafe with just the right mix of obsequious bonhomie. “Another whisky, my lord? Something to eat?”
    “No. Any word about Octavia Briarley? Is she in residence at the abbey?”
    The innkeeper’s good humor faded. “Not that I know of, my lord.”
    Rafe slid a shilling across the table. “Have you asked?”
    Barker looked down at the coin. He picked it up between his thumb and one finger, like it was tainted — but he took it. “My niece is a chambermaid at the abbey, my lord. She said Miss Octavia’s room is empty and that Miss Lucretia hasn’t given orders to prepare it