Ravishing in Red by Madeline Hunter

really turned inward. To the memories of war, Sebastian suspected.
    Morgan had followed that ordnance scandal closely, shaking his head over the newspaper reports of a company left defenseless by bad gunpowder. The Marquess of Wittonbury wanted those dead soldiers to have justice, and Sebastian wanted his brother to know the satisfaction that his comrades in arms had finally been vindicated.
    “Did you learn anything?”
    “I may have discovered a man who knows something. It may turn up information that dislodges the truth in the end. Finally.”
    Morgan nodded absently. He picked up one of the neatly ironed newspapers waiting for his attention.
    Sebastian did the same. These visits had become routine. Ritualized.
    “Our mother visited yesterday afternoon,” Morgan said while he perused the paper. “She wanted to talk about you.”
    Now, that was not routine. “Did she now?”
    “Mmmm. She wants me to tell you that you must marry. She has picked out several girls who are suitable.”
    “I am sure she thinks they are.”
    “I told her that she should not fool herself that you have changed that much. I suggested that what she sees as a new leaf is merely foliage rearranged to obscure the old bark. Discretion is not the same as repentance or reform.”
    “Thank you.”
    “She became very determined and imperious—well, you know how she can be.”
    “Is she visiting you often these days?”
    Morgan shrugged. “More than before.”
    “Too much, then. Tell Fenwood that you are not receiving when she comes next time. Do not allow her to make this apartment hers to enter as she chooses.”
    There had always been the danger that their mother would turn Morgan back into a child if given half the chance. She would intrude and coddle and dominate until he lost his right to be a separate man.
    That was why Sebastian had moved back into this house upon his brother’s return from war. His presence ensured that their mother could not expand her rule too much, especially when it came to her older son.
    “You were always better at managing her than I was. Like so much else,” Morgan said.
    There was nothing to say to that, so they both returned their attention to their papers.
    “You said you were down near Brighton yesterday? Did you hear anything about this spectacle at the Two Swords?”
    “Spectacle?”
    Morgan peered at the print in front of him. A grin broke. “Some fellow’s lover shot him. Now that must have been good theater. Not dead, it seems. Still, it must have been all the talk down there.”
    “What are you reading there?”
    Morgan flushed. “One of our mother’s scandal sheets.”
    “From Brighton?”
    “London.”
    Damn. Sir Edwin had been correct. The gossip had probably arrived in town before either of its victims. Evidently, no names were in that scandal sheet, however.
    Yet.
     
     
     
     
    T he ritual ended at eleven o’clock. Sebastian took his leave and returned to his own chambers. His valet greeted him with a sealed letter in his hand.
    “The directions were not accurate, sir.”
    Sebastian took the letter. He had written it to Miss Kelmsleigh and sent it by messenger to her father’s home. “Do they no longer live there?”
    “Mrs. Kelmsleigh does, and Miss Sarah Kelmsleigh. However, Audrianna Kelmsleigh does not. The footman inquired and was told that she has taken residence in Middlesex near the village of Cumberworth.”
    Sebastian carried the letter into his dressing room. He opened a drawer and gazed at the pistol that he had carried away from the Two Swords. His attempt to initiate arrangements to return it discreetly had been for naught.
    He could send the footman to Cumberworth. If Miss Kelmsleigh had been rusticated there, a few queries should locate her. He could pack up the pistol and give it to the footman too, and be done with this.
    He saw that pistol in a soft, feminine hand. He saw a woman’s green eyes flashing spirit, then sparking with fascination and passion, and