Never a Gentleman (41 page)

Again, she was beset by something she needed to say, and it had something to do with that lawn. How odd. Her last clear memory
was of a lowering sky. It had been about to rain. There was nothing happening outside now; the trees lay still beneath a clear
sky. She wondered if it had rained after all. Had they had Wellington weather? Had the skies emptied and the ground shaken
from thunder? And why did the thought of swirling, cloud-laden sky make her feel impatient and anxious? What was lurking in
her memory?

She knew about the babe, of course. The sharp grief of losing even that hope gnawed at her. Now she would never be a mother.
Diccan would surely never be so careless again.

“Grace?” she heard, and turned to see Kate stepping in the door. “Are you going to stay awake this time?”

Grace blinked. “I’ve been awake?”

Kate strolled up. “Off and on. You’ve been very ill.”

Grace reached up to rub at the lingering ache in her head. “Yes, I think I knew that. The arsenic?”

“All better,” Kate said, sitting down. “And before you ask, it’s been five days.”

“The wedding!”

“—Has been put off a few days.”

“I’m so sorry—”

Kate waved her off. “Don’t be tedious, Grace. After all the nursing you’ve done, you’re due more than a few days in bed. Although
next time I’d appreciate it if you’d simply do it to seem interesting. This poisoning business causes the most distressing
anxiety. It gave me a wrinkle.” Her grin was as brash as ever as she helped Grace sit up. “But I refuse to show you where.
Now, how about some lovely gruel?”

Grace groaned. “That, my dear Kate, is an oxymoron.”

Could she ask where Diccan was? If he had stayed for the delayed wedding, or just cut his losses and wandered back off to
wherever Minette was? Did she dare reveal how vital those dreams of his comfort had been?

“I think I heard you talking about Diccan,” she said.

Plumping the pillows behind Grace’s back, Kate actually looked away. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about him.”

Grace frowned. “I think I do. What happened?”

“What happened is that you haven’t eaten in five days, and if you show up at Olivia’s wedding looking like you do right now,
they’ll think it’s a wake. Now, what can I get you?”

Grace managed a small grin. “I don’t suppose you have your brandy.”

Finally, Kate grinned back. “Don’t be silly.”

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the sleek
chased silver flask and uncapped it. Grace’s hand shook, but she didn’t hesitate to take it and enjoy a sip. “Ah,” she sighed
as the liquid fire bloomed in her stomach. “If there is one thing I learned with the army, it’s that there is nothing that
can’t be soothed with a bit of brandy.”

Kate smiled. “A tradition with which I heartily concur. Now then, how about a bath and clean nightclothes?”

Grace was about to answer with an emphatic yes, when she was distracted by the flask. She was recapping it, when it made a
curious clicking sound and one of the sides separated.

“Oh, no,” she cried, trying to gather the sides back together. “I think I broke it.”

That was when Kate laughed. “Have I never shown you its secret?” she asked, taking the flask back and separating the back
side.

It wasn’t broken; it had a hinged cover that, indeed, hid a surprise. An ivory oval miniature. The painting was exquisite,
of a young doe-eyed blond beauty in rather scandalous attire, with the script,
Is not the first fruit sweet, my love?
engraved beneath.

Grace stared at it, suddenly cold. “I thought you said this was Jack’s flask.”

Kate smiled. “It was. Olivia found it on him at Waterloo. He didn’t recognize it, so he let me have it. I never gave it back.”

She motioned to the painting. “And her?”

Kate leaned over to catch sight of the painting. “Oh, didn’t you ever see this? It’s Mimi. Jack’s French mistress. You can
imagine what poor Olivia thought when she saw it. It’s why I considered it a charitable act to take it. She doesn’t need to
be reminded that Jack wasn’t celibate during the years they were apart. Especially since Mimi turned
out to be a spy for Napoleon.” She chuckled, inviting Grace to see the humor.

But Grace had stopped listening. “That’s not her name.”

Kate took another look. “Of course it is.”

Grace looked up, feeling off-balance again. “This,” she said, lifting the flask so Kate could see, “is Minette.
Diccan’s
mistress.”

Kate went very still. “You’re sure?”

Grace gave a sore laugh. “Believe me when I tell you, Kate. I know every inch of this woman. Do you think Diccan knows?”

Kate sat abruptly in her chair. “Who knows? Those men are closed as clams.” She kept shaking her head. “Great Heavens. This
is certainly a new twist.”

“What does it mean?” Grace asked, rubbing at her aching forehead as she contemplated the winsome smile on the painting.

Kate sighed. “It either means Drake’s Rakes have been sharing mistresses, which I find rather distasteful, or someone is playing
a far deeper game than we thought.” She took back the flask. “Which I find even more distasteful.”

“I need to talk to Diccan.”

“We need to talk to all of them.” Abruptly, Kate rose to her feet and slipped the flask back into her pocket. “I’ll send Lizzy
up to see to your bath and some food. I believe I’ll work on herding the men into a room and not letting them out ’til we
get some answers.”

Kate had almost made it out the door, when Grace suddenly remembered. “Kate? What trouble is Diccan in?”

Kate stopped. “Diccan? Oh, nothing.”

“I heard you before. Is he accused of something? You said something about his parents not standing by him.”

Her hand on the door, Kate sighed. “He doesn’t want you to worry, Grace.”

“He failed.”

For a moment, Kate seemed to consult the half-open door. Then, she turned to face Grace. “It shouldn’t be all that surprising,”
she said briskly, “especially since the effort was already made to discredit him. This is just another attempt.”

Grace’s brain seemed to move at the pace of mud, but after a few long moments, Kate’s words sank in. She felt the blood leave
her face. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “He’s been accused of poisoning me. Who? Who could think such a thing?”

She had never seen Kate look so uncomfortable. “A letter has been found from him to your footman Benny. And Benny is missing.”

Grace wished she could have another big gulp of Kate’s brandy. “Benny? But he’s been so solicitous.” Always pushing that foul-tasting
tonic on her.

Kate shrugged. “It’s all I know.”

“Don’t you know who it is who is accusing Diccan? Surely they would have something to do with whoever had me poisoned. Was
it Mr. Carver, that man from the Home Office? I don’t think I’d put it past him. He’s obsessed, I think.”

She remembered now. It was Mr. Carver she’d been fretting over. He was here, and he was watching Diccan. And she could see
that he wanted Diccan brought down. “It’s him,” she said, suddenly energized. “Mr. Carver. He must have given up finding any
evidence against Diccan and…”

“No, Grace. It wasn’t.”

Grace looked up to see a completely foreign distress in Kate’s eyes.

“It was your Uncle Dawes.”

Yes,
Grace thought.
A person’s heart could stop beating
. She swore hers just had. “I think he was having Diccan watched,” she said inconsequentially. “To protect me.”

“He was the one who found the note. His people were investigating your staff, and evidently one of them was suspicious of
your footman Benny. They found the note in lodgings he’d taken by Covent Garden. The general called it providential. I call
it a bit too convenient.”

“You’re saying that the general had something to do with my poisoning? You can’t think my uncle would deliberately hurt me.
If he did, it would mean he is in league with the Lions. My uncle, Kate. A general in Cornwallis’s army.”

Kate didn’t say a word. She just shook her head, which made Grace feel immeasurably worse.

“Let’s find out what the men have learned,” her friend finally said. “Until then, it’s silly to make accusations.”

Grace fought the pain of disbelief. “It sounds as if accusations have already been made.”

Against Diccan. She had to find out why.

Grace decided that Kate could perform magic. Within the hour, she had managed to corral the resident Rakes into the Grand
Salon, an old-fashioned, high-ceilinged, white room with ornate gilded plasterwork, carved alabaster chimney pieces, and corniced
doorways. The furniture, collected into comfortable groupings, was soft sage and gold and crafted along simpler lines, as
if the room couldn’t bear more ornamentation. It was like making your confession in a baroque Viennese church, Grace thought,
as she waited for Kate to settle herself next to her on a Sheridan sofa by the fireplace.

“Nothing to say,” Chuffy groused as he plopped himself onto a matching chair to her left.

“Maybe you have nothing to say,” Kate told the chubby peer from where she sat, arranging her skirts, “but I assure you, we
do.”

Grace kept quiet. She had survived both bath and food, and felt quite a bit stronger, but right now she was preoccupied with
watching the attendees. Jack Wyndham, of course, pouring tots of whisky for the men; Marcus Drake, standing by the windows;
Chuffy Wilde, seated by Lady Bea; and Harry Lidge, who was shooting surreptitious glances at Kate from where he stood, whisky
in hand, across the room. Every one of them looked stony-faced, schoolboys called to account. Grace suspected that they would
be tough nuts to crack.

The women’s contingent consisted of Olivia, sitting behind an unused tea tray, glaring at Jack as if he had misbehaved, Kate,
Bea, and Grace. The only one missing, it seemed, was Diccan.

“Where is he?” Grace asked without preamble.

The heads of all the men shot up.

“Pardon?” Earl Drake asked, looking ludicrously innocent, decanter and glass in hand.

Grace lifted an eyebrow. “My husband. Where is he?”

“Here,” she heard, and Diccan strolled into the room. “My dear, although it’s always wonderful to see you, I wish you would
have stayed in your room. You still look a trifle pale.”

Grace felt the usual rush of pleasure at the sight of him. She felt something more this time, a sense of intimacy, as if her
dreams had been real. As if she really had slept in his arms. She thought she saw him betray a quick flash of
intense relief when he spotted her. But, as usual, emotion lasted only briefly in Diccan Hilliard’s eyes.

“I feel better,” she assured him. “Where have you been?”

Diccan delivered one of his patented smiles of lazy amusement as he accepted a whisky from Marcus and settled in a chair across
from Grace. “Oh, here and there.”

“Did they arrest you?” she asked. “Or just cast aspersions?”

Diccan sent an accusing glare around the room. “My thanks for protecting my wife’s peace of mind while I was gone.”

Grace felt her temper fray. “My peace of mind was lost when you told me I was being poisoned,” she told him. “In fact, I’d
say it was lost long before that. And I find I’ve had enough. Where do things stand, Diccan? Will I be visiting you in gaol?”

“Not while I’m with him,” Harry Lidge said quietly. “He has been remanded to my custody for now.” His face broke into a wry
grin. “You seem to have thrown off the opposition’s plans when you survived.”

Grace could feel Kate’s feathers ruffling and put a calming hand on her arm. “Thank you, Harry.” Grace looked around to see
that the men wore varying expressions, from wariness to outright dread. “You need to tell us what is going on.”

“No, we don’t,” Diccan retorted. “Not if it puts you in danger.”

“Worse danger than arsenic poisoning?” Grace snapped. She had no idea she had that kind of fury in her; it flared hot in her
chest.

To Diccan’s credit, he flushed. “It won’t happen again, Grace. You’re being watched.”

“I was being watched before, Diccan,” she said. “It wasn’t enough.”

“Agreed,” Chuffy said. “Don’t think Schroeder is up to form.”

Grace swung her head toward him. “Schroeder?”

Chuffy was blushing. “Great help,” he muttered. “Heard it myself from Diccan. She heads his army. Still, couldn’t know what
she was up against.”

Grace knew she was gaping. “She was
watching
me?”

“Protecting you,” Diccan said. “It’s why I didn’t want you to fire her.”

She thought she’d go mad. “Well, thank God you told me that. Otherwise I might have thought that since I kept catching her
in your bedroom that you were tupping her, too!”

He at least had the grace to look chagrined. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

She wanted to scream. “
Never
say that to me again. How could you think I wouldn’t be worried? Olivia has been attacked. You’ve been kidnapped. I’ve been
poisoned.”

“And married,” Kate muttered. “Don’t forget that.”

“Grace,” Marcus Drake said, leaning forward. “Try to understand. We aren’t allowed to simply spread this information around.”

Grace met him gaze for gaze. “In that case, we’ll just have to use what we know and look into all this by ourselves.”

Diccan jumped to his feet. “I forbid it!”

“You’re too late,” Kate told him with a bright smile. “We’ve already begun. And as opposed to you, we’ll actually share information.
In fact, we have some now.” Reaching into her pocket, she drew out the flask. “What do you know about this?”

Stepping away from the mantel, Jack Wyndham frowned. “It’s Evenham’s.”

Everyone stared. It certainly wasn’t the answer Grace had expected. “The boy who killed himself?” she asked.

“Evenham’s?” Marcus Drake retorted, stepping closer to see. “What the hell is Kate doing with something of Evenham’s?”

Kate’s smile was purely malicious. “Why, I took it off of Jack. Olivia found it on him when she came across him at Waterloo.”

“I think the question is,” Marcus said, “why did Jack take it off of Evenham?”