The Emperor's Conspiracy (24 page)

He hung his head, hunching his shoulders and rubbing his temples as if he had a headache. “I don’t like it that you’re involved. I blame myself and on top of it, if anyone catches wind of our going off together to some illicit place, after the bet …”

“Bet?”

“One of Tavenam’s cronies made a bet in the book at my club last night. After the ball. It wagers how long it will take me to either propose marriage to you, or make you my mistress.” His fingers curled around the back of the chair he’d been sitting in.

Her eyes widened. “But—”

“It can only be someone who knows what Tavenam ordered you to do. There is no other reason they would wager on your becoming my mistress—the idea is ludicrous unless they think that is what you will become, on Tavenam’s orders.”

“Well, that was a huge mistake on their part.”

He frowned at her. “Do you understand? One of Tavenam’s co-conspirators, perhaps Tavenam himself, has compromised you for gain in a wager. Your reputation has been called into question, and the consequences for you are far-reaching.” He spoke sharply.

“I understand.” She kept her tone slow and measured. “But it seems to me whoever has made this bet has made it that much more difficult for me to see you easily. Which would defeat what Tavenam is trying to achieve. If I point it out to him, we’ll no doubt know who made the bet by waiting to see which member of the ton is murdered next.”

He hadn’t thought of that, she could tell by his quick intake of breath, and the way his eyes narrowed. “Will you tell him?”

She gave nod. “Without compunction.”

She caught him staring at her. “You think me vicious to do it? Knowing a man might die?”

He shook his head. “I think they’ve underestimated you completely.”

“We can go tonight to see this seaman. Wear your valet’s outdoor clothes. And don’t scare the man off. Let me do the talking.”

He shot her a dry look but said nothing.

She couldn’t help the grin that lifted her mouth at the corners. He utterly delighted her when he reacted to her like that. Like she was a real person, instead of a dull heiress or a thing to be possessed.

“What went through your mind, just then?” He moved the chair he’d been gripping aside, and she looked away from him, suddenly flustered.

“Just … I’d rather not say.”

He reached out, leaning over the table to touch her face with his fingers. “Please.”

“I … thought how much you delight me.”

He drew in a sharp breath, and the pressure of his fingers increased. Then he stepped back, his eyes still on her. She could not say what he was thinking, but the fingers that had touched her skin curled a little, and at last he looked away.

He walked toward the open doors to the garden, stopped just short of them, in the pool of warm light that spilled over the gleaming wooden floors. “There is still the matter of your reputation until the bastard who made the wager is dead or the bet retracted. I’ve already spoken to Lady Howe. I will pay you court, but only under the most respectable conditions, so not a hint of scandal can attach itself to either of us.”

“You will pay me court? Under respectable conditions?” She looked from him around the empty room, and he had the grace to flush.

“Obviously, from this meeting on. I walked, came the back way, and entered through your kitchens this morning, no one could have seen me.”

She watched him, uneasy. “Then let us get back to ‘pay me court.’” She suddenly needed to stand herself, even though he was on the other side of the room. “What does that mean, Lord Durnham?”

“It means what it says.” His words were short.

“I need an explanation. Call me an ignorant girl from the gutters, and spell it out.”

He was suddenly furious. She could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his eyes flashed. She couldn’t understand how one question could have such an effect on him.

“I.” He drew in a seething breath. “Pay. You. Court. I offer you gifts, engage you in conversation, take you on outings with a chaperone. And …”

“And?”

“And then ask you to marry me.” He almost spat it out.

“Because of the bet?” she asked, trying frantically to work it out. “Because someone has wagered on my reputation, you must marry me to save me?” She looked up, startled. “Why? I’m either dead or ruined by the end of this anyway.”

“You are not. I won’t let that happen. They will not win.” He was all but shouting, stalking toward her. He grabbed her arms and gave her a little shake. “This time, the bastards don’t win. I win.”

“What do you win?” she whispered.

He bent his head and crushed his lips to hers.

29

“I
hope that shouting wasn’t directed at Miss Raven.” Lady Howe’s dry voice from the doorway forced Edward to lift his head, but he did it in his own sweet time.

The woman was the most damnably efficient chaperone he’d ever encountered.

Charlotte’s face was still lifted to his, eyes closed, her cheeks pink and her mouth soft and red from his kiss. He kept his hands on her waist a moment longer and breathed in the rose fragrance that always seemed to surround her.

“It was not,” he said at last.

“Good.” Catherine stepped into the room, and Charlotte seemed to collect herself, stepping away from him, her eyes widening as he let his fingers trail against her until he could no longer reach her. Taking everything he could.

“Perhaps it is high time you were off home. Before anyone suspects you are behaving with impropriety toward my ward.” Lady Howe arched a perfectly shaped brow.

“Of course. You’re right.” He stepped forward and took Charlotte’s hand, kissed it, and for the first time realized why the gesture had come into being. He could feel her fingers tremble beneath the brush of his lips.

“I will send you a note about tonight,” she murmured to him, and he nodded.

He bowed to Lady Howe and retraced his steps through the kitchens and out into the narrow lane behind the house, biting into a bun rich in lemon peel and raisins the cook had given him on his way through her domain.

He nearly tripped over the man lying near the alley entrance, half curled up, his hair matted and the sour smell of unwashed body rising from him.

The man cringed as Edward towered over him, and Edward recalled Luke saying the watchers that had replaced Twigs were mostly wounded ex-soldiers. He expected Luke had his eye on them all, but he didn’t trust Luke to pass along any information unless it suited him.

“You working for Tavenam and his lot?” he asked bluntly, crouching down.

The man eyed the bun, with one bite out of it, as if he couldn’t hear Edward over the sight of it.

Edward held it out to him and he snatched it, his long, jagged nails scratching Edward’s hand.

Edward looked away from him as he took the first bite. There was something animalistic about it, starvation reducing a man to the level of a beast.

“It doesn’t look like they’re paying you enough,” he said eventually, when the bun was gone.

“Money goes to me boss. Rogers. He gives us our share, when he gets it. But they aren’t good payers. Typical gentry.” He spat.

“I’m a good payer.” Edward sat back on his heels.

“I ain’t no snitch on me friends, mister.” The eyes that looked out of the filthy face were hard.

“I’m not interested in your friends, only the men paying you—or not paying you, as it goes.” Edward pulled out a coin and the man eyed it.

“Go on.”

“If you can get any information about who they are, I’d be very obliged.” He handed the coin over. It was only a shilling, but it seemed to have an effect. “All I ask is that you try to find out who hired you and, if they are planning anything against the people in that house”—he pointed behind him—“that you let me know.” He paused. “Do you know who I am?”

The man grinned, revealing surprisingly good teeth. “Aye. Lord Durnham. I’ve been on watch duty at your place, too, a time or two.”

“I’ll tell my staff to expect you, and I’ll leave a shilling a day here in this lane.” He looked around. “Under that rock?”

The man gave a nod. “Name’s Harkness, your lordship.” He moved, getting himself more comfortable, and Edward saw with shock he had lost most of his right arm.

“You were injured in the war?”

Harkness looked up abruptly and then away, hunching over what was left of his arm as if to protect it. “In Portugal, my lord.”

“And your friends, your boss Rogers, the ones helping you in watching the house? They served in Portugal as well?”

He gave a reluctant nod.

“I’m willing to offer them the same terms as I’ve given you.”

Harkness scratched his cheek. “I’ll tell ’em.”

There was something very alive about him, intelligence bright in his eyes, now he had a bun inside him. He would be a good man to have, even with one arm. But he was lying in the gutter, struggling to make a living any way he could, and even that wasn’t going well. Edward gave a nod of farewell, rising from his haunches.

Harkness touched the fingers of his left hand to his bare head in salute, and curled up again as Edward walked out of the lane.

Edward looked back, but Harkness lay curled up, facing away from him, looking like a heap of rags—like so much rubbish in the gutter.

“I
’m sorry, Lady Callaghan, I see Lord Tavenam over there in the corner, and I need a quick word with him.” Charlotte smiled at her hostess and made her way to Tavenam at an oblique angle, so he would not easily see her until the last moment.

She’d noticed a change in the general atmosphere around
her tonight. Instead of blending in, as she’d tried so hard to do since she gained entry to this elite circle, she was being watched.

Not by everyone.

News of the bet had surely not spread quite so fast as that, and most of the men would not have told their wives. But it was only a matter of time.

There was a gleam in some of the younger men’s eyes. A speculation as to whether they might have any luck with her if Edward failed.

“Lord Tavenam, just the man I was looking for.” Charlotte placed a hand on Tavenam’s arm, taking him completely by surprise as he stood with his wife and two daughters.

“Miss Raven, ah …” Tavenam’s affected surprise did not reach his eyes.

Charlotte gave Lady Tavenam a genuine smile. “So lovely to see you again, my lady. Your husband is being very kind to a young woman with no father to turn to, and giving me advice on certain legal matters.”

Lady Tavenam sent her husband a sharp look. “So that was what all that gesturing was about last night?” She turned to Charlotte. “Honestly, when I tried to find out what he was saying to you at Lady Crowder’s, he wouldn’t be drawn.”

“How very discreet of him.” Charlotte kept her smile sweet.

“Of course.” Lady Tavenam stepped back. “Well, we’ll let Oscar help you in relative privacy, m’dear.”

Tavenam had no choice but to take her arm and walk with
her toward the door out to the balcony. Charlotte stopped short of it, though. They were well away from the crowds here, but still in full sight of everyone.

She would go nowhere alone with him.

She smiled prettily at him and prepared to lie.

“What are you about?” Tavenam hissed through his whiskers.

“Either you, or one of your little gang, has made it even more difficult for me to get information from Lord Durnham. I want the damage reversed. Or at least minimized. I doubt you could completely erase it.” Charlotte spoke coldly, the Ice Queen to the tips of her pretty, embroidered rose slippers. Throughout it all, she kept a friendly expression on her face. The look you gave a mark before you picked his pocket.

Tavenam gaped at her. “What are you talking about?”

“There is a wager in the betting book at a certain club in St. James’s Square that says I will become Durnham’s mistress or his future wife by next week.”

Tavenam froze. “What did you say?”

“If you were trying to make it impossible for me to do as you asked, you couldn’t have gone about it better. I cannot see Durnham now without a great deal of attention being paid to me, and if he gets wind of this bet, he may think to get as far from me as possible, either because he has no wish for a wife or a mistress, or because he is trying to save my reputation.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Either way, it does not help me get anything useful from him. Were you serious when you said you wanted information, or is this all a cruel trick?”