Christian retied the knots, watching the play of frustration and anger flit across her face. “I know this is difficult, and that you’re feeling betrayed, but we can’t confront him. Not yet. We must catch the French buyer.”
She folded her arms, staring at the bundle in his hand as if he held a snake. “We have our proof now. You were right all along.” Her voice was flat and unemotional, though he knew a riot of emotions simmered just below the surface.
Looking at her face, Christian didn’t want to be right. Curse Pembroke and his greedy, traitorous ways. He set the bundle back exactly where they’d found it and then reached for her, cupping her shoulders. “Now that we have evidence against him, we can make sure he pays for his crimes.”
Her small fists clenched, and she rested them on his chest. “He won’t get away with this. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.”
“We have to rejoin the others before we’re discovered.” Though he would rather have stayed with Alice and talked through their suspicions in light of what they’d found, lingering in Pembroke’s dressing room could end in disaster.
“Yes, we should go.” She looked up at him with a little jog of her chin and squared her shoulders. “We have some planning to do and not a moment to lose.
Christian squeezed her arms and stepped back so she could precede him out of the dressing room. Her illusions were broken, but with her jaw set and the determined look on her face, Pembroke didn’t stand a chance.
And Christian didn’t want to miss a moment of Alice giving Pembroke the comeuppance he deserved.
Chapter Eleven
THE DUCHESS STOOD THE moment Alice entered the music room. “Oh there you are, my dear. We didn’t want to start without you. Lord Pembroke was just telling me how he’s looking forward to hearing you play.”
Alice lowered her eyes, not wanting her mother to see the flash of anger at the mention of Pembroke’s name. “I'm certain that Lord Pembroke was just being kind.”
A fire burned cheerfully on one end of the room, with the pianoforte in the middle. She’d always loved this room with its large windows that let the light shine in. Tonight, though, the sun had set, and it was dark outside― just how Alice felt on the inside after her discovery in Pembroke’s dressing room.
She sat down on a small, upholstered chair near her mother. Pembroke was only two seats to her left, sitting with Penelope Beasley. He gave her an enthusiastic smile, and she ground her teeth. It was all she could do to keep her seat and not stand and confront him with what she knew. But Alice drew on her years of comportment lessons and training for her role in the Falcon Group and calmly stayed where she was.
Her gaze kept returning to him as they waited for Penelope and Beatrice to finish looking through the music and decide which pieces to play. Alice folded her hands in her lap, trying to control her temper and not appear disagreeable. How could she have been so wrong about Pembroke? He’d given such a convincing performance he could have a career on Drury Lane. But he'd obviously become complacent by leaving that bundle of clothing in his room. She turned away and took a deep breath. She would remain quiet tonight for Thomas’s sake. Because once Pembroke was caught in the act of treason, Thomas would have justice.
Shaking off her thoughts, she faced forward to listen to Penelope on the pianoforte. She’d chosen an early, less-complicated piece by Mozart that showed her talent in its best light. When she was through, the audience clapped in a lively manner to show their appreciation. Penelope blushed as she made her curtsy and returned to her seat.
“Alice?” the duchess said, opening her fan. “What will you grace us with this evening?”
“I’ve decided on one of my favorites.” Alice moved to the bench at the pianoforte that Penelope had just vacated and sat down. She didn’t need any music for the arrangement. Whenever she needed a way to release pent-up frustration, she played the “Presto Agitato” movement from her favorite Beethoven concerto. It fit her mood perfectly tonight.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Pembroke beaming at her. Christian was near the doorway, almost in the shadows, but she could feel his eyes on her. The turmoil inside her built as everything she’d experienced over the past few days bubbled to the surface. She focused on the piano keys.
The agitation she’d been feeling flowed through her fingers and into the music. The chords were heavy, echoing through her wrists, her arms, her body. The arpeggios were her chance for her fingers to fly and match her galloping thoughts. Images flashed through her mind as she played: the gunshot at the ball, the attack last night, the bundle in the closet.
Christian.
His eyes that saw her soul. His arms that offered comfort. He stirred feelings in her she’d never thought possible. What was she to do?
When her fingers pressed down for the last chord, she closed her eyes to feel the notes lift into the air and take some of her tension with them. As the sound faded, she opened her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling lighter. She always did when she played that particular piece. The room was silent for a moment before the audience began to applaud. Everyone stood, and some even called for an encore. Dipping into a low curtsy, she rose.
“Thank you,” she said, and moved toward her seat next to her mother. Her eyes sought Christian, who was still standing exactly where he’d been when she started. His arms were folded, though his gaze was full of warmth that she felt to the tips of her toes.
But like a rush of cold wind, the warmth fled when Pembroke appeared in front of her. He held out a hand, and for just a second, Alice considered snubbing him. For Thomas, she reminded herself. Be polite for him.
Pembroke took her offered hand and bowed low, then kissed her knuckles. “Brilliant, my lady. Simply brilliant.”
Every eye in the room was on them, and Alice was annoyed he was making such a spectacle. But she smiled and murmured her thanks, though the words almost stuck in her throat. Acting as if nothing was wrong was becoming more difficult by the moment.
Pembroke retreated, and once everyone was seated again, Penelope and Lady Beatrice sang for the assembled guests, their pure voices washing over Alice until she was lost in the beauty of them. Lord Stafford, a house guest who had been mostly quiet the entire time he’d been in company, stood to sing an Irish air, surprising them all with his deep, rich baritone. When the last note floated away and the applause had died down, the duchess stood.
“Thank you all for a wonderful evening.” The duchess looked over the group, who had stood with her. “The gentlemen must be ready at the break of dawn for the hunt in the morning, so I won’t hold them here any longer.” She smiled at her guests. “And of course, we ladies will be readying ourselves for the masquerade tomorrow evening.”
Penelope giggled and started to move to the duchess to wish her goodnight. Alice was at her mother's side and received several compliments for her contribution to the musical program. Her cheeks were starting to ache from the smile she’d pasted on her face. She needed to escape, not only to relieve her sore cheeks, but before Pembroke could approach. Just as she was about to take her leave, her father appeared at her side.
“Alice, I hate to spirit you away, but will you join me in my study for a moment?” the duke asked, smiling down at her.
“Of course.” Alice took his elbow, glad he had sought her out and saved her from another encounter with Pembroke.
They walked slowly down the corridor that led to his study, the lamps casting shadows across the floor. “You played magnificently tonight,” her father said, giving her a side glance. “Though I do remember your penchant for playing that song when you are particularly out of sorts.”
She ducked her head. “Am I so obvious?” She sighed. “Once I tell you what’s happened, you will understand the cause.”
He didn’t press her further. When he opened the door to his study, the familiar scent of leather and old books washed over her, reminding her of all the time she’d spent in here as a child, reading when he was doing estat
e business, or discussing how her lessons were coming, or what her plans were for the day. This room had been the center of her memories with her father, and it was comforting. Some more of the tension she’d been feeling drained away.
She sat in the armchair directly across from her father’s desk― the one she thought of as hers. Before the interview with her father proceeded, however, Christian appeared in the open doorway.
“Your Grace, Lady Alice,” he said, sketching a bow before he sat in the chair next to hers.
“Wolverton.” The duke acknowledged him with a tilt of his head before he closed the door. “It seems as if there’s been a development.”
He walked behind his desk and sat down, his eyes resting on Alice. “You mentioned that something has happened. Does this development confirm your theory that Pembroke is innocent? When he met with me this evening, he did inform me that his earldom is deep in debt and he had counted on the investment partnership with Thomas to help him save his family’s seat. He also reassured me several times that Thomas was alive when he left him outside of White’s.”
“He told me the same thing.” Alice twisted her hands together in her lap, then stilled them. She had to stay in control. Analyze the information objectively.
“He was quite earnest when he told me the story.” The duke stroked his chin and glanced at Christian. “Though I did note the amount of money that the list of agents is being sold for is nearly the exact amount Lord Pembroke needs to settle his debts.”
Alice leaned forward, her frustration bubbling to the surface once again. “All my instincts told me he was innocent, but the evidence keeps mounting against him.” She held up a finger. “Pembroke confessed he’d hurt his right arm, which likely means he is the man I stabbed last night.” She held up a second finger. “His debts would be settled with the sale of the list. And when we searched his rooms earlier― ” she held up a third finger, “we found a bundle of dirty, black clothing with blood on it, which surely belongs to my attacker.”
The duke didn’t react right away. He shifted in his chair, looking between Alice and Christian. “The strange thing is that during our meeting he talked of needing Alice’s dowry to restore the earldom, though he assured me of his regard for you, my dear. Why would he tell me of his need for your dowry if he would have the money from the sale? Your instincts are rarely ever wrong, Alice. Perhaps, this time, we’re reaching our conclusions too quickly.”
Christian cleared his throat. “The clothing is his dressing room matches the fabric we found in the wood this morning. He admits he needs money, and he has contacts in the peerage and Foreign Office that could have given him access to the names on the list. All leads point to Pembroke and his guilt. And with all the investigations that have been performed, there are no other suspects that I’m aware of here, nor any other noblemen that have been spotted in Kent, except those that are here.”
The duke steepled his fingers again. “I’m merely trying to see all the angles. Something doesn’t feel right.” He was quiet for a moment. “We must be prepared for all contingencies, both if he is innocent or if he is truly guilty. Regardless, the exchange will take place tomorrow, and Pembroke will be watched carefully. I’ve got extra footmen in place, a dozen agents on the ground, and every guest has been given a thorough check of their recent activities.”
Christian sat up straighter in his chair, the leather creaking with the movement. “Your Grace, I must ask, has the investigation into Viscount Carlisle been reported? Does he fit into Pembroke’s scheme?”
Alice remembered the viscount from the night of the ball where she'd first met Christian. She hadn’t noticed a strong connection between the two men that night. Could they be friends rather than just acquaintances?
“I had him thoroughly scrutinized, and he’s not party to Pembroke’s scheme. Carlisle is in the devil’s own scrape, though. He's buying up Pembroke’s gambling vowels so he’ll be beholden to him. From the information we have, Carlisle is trying to break his betrothal with Pembroke's sister.” The duke drummed his fingers on the table.
Christian frowned. “Carlisle is betrothed to Pembroke’s sister?”
“Not for much longer, if Carlisle has his way,” the duke said with a shake of his head. “The man has had some demons in him ever since he returned from the war. I’m surprised the lady in question doesn't want to cry off herself with the way the viscount has been comporting himself.”
“He's still trying to numb his memories of the war, I’ll wager. But indulging in liquor isn’t a treasonous act.” Relief mixed with concern colored Christian’s tone.
“Did you know the viscount well?” Alice asked, wanting to know more.
“Only as his superior officer,” Christian said, turning toward her. “He saw some of the worst of humanity. We all did. I’m afraid he’s not dealing with it well, and I was concerned he’d turned his anger and bitterness against the country he'd defended. I'm glad he hasn’t.”
“I am, too.” Facing a friend’s betrayal was a difficult, inner pain to deal with. Though Alice hadn’t counted Pembroke as a friend, really, she had thought well of him and his treachery stung.
“Even with our suspicions about Pembroke, I want you both to be vigilant at the masquerade. Desperation can turn men into monsters.” The duke stood and came around to the side of his desk. “Hopefully this situation will be well in hand tomorrow night.”
“Yes, Papa.” Alice stood as well. Christian stepped to her side and held out his arm to escort her toward the door. She curled her hand around his elbow as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if she belonged there with him at her side.
“I’ll see you for the hunt tomorrow morning,” the duke said as he opened the door and walked into the corridor. Alice and Christian followed. “It should be a fine day for shooting.”
“I’m assuming the hunting party won’t have you for a guide? Or that you have a hidden shooting talent?” Christian looked down at her, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
“You can never be sure of my hidden talents, my lord,” Alice said with a superior grin. “But I’m afraid I won’t be joining the hunting party as a guide, though that will be of no consequence when a legendary tracker like yourself will be in the company.” Christian chuckled at her rejoinder. Alice let go of his arm to start for the stairs. “I will bid you goodnight, Lord Wolverton. Papa.”
Before her slipper touched the carpet of the first stair, a footman approached, Christian and bowed. “A note for you, Lord Wolverton.”
Alice froze, her hand on the railing. Her father received notes and visitors at all hours during an active mission. But who would send a note this late to Christian unless it was regarding Lord Pembroke?
Her father paused as well. “Inform me of any developments,” he said, his voice low, but filled with authority. Christian had nodded toward the duke before he broke the seal. Alice wanted to stay and see what the note said, but her father offered his arm. “Shall I escort you to your room, Alice?”
“Of course.” She resisted the urge to look back as they climbed the staircase, but she knew Christian was still standing where they’d left him. Had it been bad news? When they reached the door to her bedchamber, she gave her father a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Papa.” She turned to go inside, but he put his hand on her forearm.
“I know this case has been difficult for you, and it’s not over yet. I’m not convinced Pembroke is the traitor, and there have already been two attempts on your life. Please be careful tomorrow. Use an escort. Make sure you are armed and have an escort with you where possible.” Her father's kind, yet worried, eyes rested on her.
She kissed his cheek once again. “You’ve taught me well, Papa. Don’t worry.”
He smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m very proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished. So is your mother.”
Tears rose suddenly and stung the back of her throat. Her father loved her, she’d always known that, but to have earned
his pride meant everything. “I had a wonderful teacher.”
He smiled and let her go. She slipped inside her room, basking in the glow of her father’s love for just a moment― and giving him time to reach his own rooms. Keeping an ear to her door, she listened to her father’s fading footsteps, counted to one hundred, then moved back into the corridor and crept downstairs. She had to talk to Christian and find out what was in that note.
Alice hoped he hadn’t gone to his room. No matter how badly she wanted to know what the message said, she couldn’t risk her reputation by going alone to a man’s bedchamber at night. When she got downstairs, however, Christian wasn’t to be found. She checked the parlor, library, music room, and billiards room. Heaving a sigh, Alice faced the fact that she would likely have to wait until tomorrow to know the contents of the note.
Her stomach rumbled, and Alice recalled she’d merely picked at her dinner, trying to keep up polite conversation and devise a way to search Pembroke’s rooms without being caught. Deciding to see if Cook had any bread and jam or honey cake left in the kitchen, she headed down there. As she opened the door, she heard the rumble of voices. Christian and a stable hand were sitting at the table.
When he saw her, Christian rose immediately, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. “Alice, I thought you’d gone to bed.”
She smiled, relieved to have found him. Moving toward the pair, she stood next to the small table. “I couldn’t sleep for wondering what was in the note you received. May I sit down?”
“I should have known that someone with your curiosity would never be able to rest for not knowing what was in a note.” Christian grinned and held the chair to his right for her. “Lady Alice, may I present to you Lieutenant Colin Pearce.”
The Marquess Meets His Match Page 9
