“Threaten to burden my wife again,” Archbroke returned, “and I’ll pound you into the ground. She is in no condition to worry about these matters.”
How had Matthew’s overbearing superior convinced sweet Theo, a woman Matthew had known since childhood, to marry him? Even more perplexing was the fact that she appeared to be in love with Archbroke. Matthew’s lungs deflated as feelings of love permeated his mind. He never had reason to question Grace’s feelings for him. Even when he received the news of Grace’s betrothal, he had initially believed it a mistake, a farce of some sort. But when Lucy informed him Lord Flarinton had indeed signed the marriage agreements, Matthew resigned himself to the fact that the woman had gone and betrothed herself to another.
He shook his head. “What is with the empty threats, Archbroke? You are no match for Devonton.” He raked his gaze over his superior standing in front of him. Archbroke’s waistcoat was no longer tight around the belly, and the material about his shoulders was pulled taut. Where was the man who spent hours, days even, behind a desk, mindlessly consuming beefsteaks that were placed before him?
Archbroke stood with his hands on his hips. “Is that a fact? Devonton, what do you say to a round at Gentlemen Jackson’s tomorrow?”
Blake’s eyes lit with interest.
The instinct to smooth the situation over with a glib statement flittered through Matthew’s mind. Choking back the comment, he asked, “What did Jones find out about Ellingsworth?” A bitter taste remained in his mouth as Grace’s fiancé’s name rolled off his tongue. He needed another drink.
Moving his hands from his hips to clasp them behind his back, Archbroke said, “I’ll repeat Jones’s observations verbatim. Lord Ellingsworth is of a similar temperament to that of Lord Devonton. He should not be judged by those who surround him. I will add that Jones was required to report back merely after spending a day and a half with Ellingsworth’s set.”
“What!” Blake ran his hand through his hair. “From all accounts, Ellingsworth has nothing but air for brains and spends his days at the worst gaming hells, whorehouses, and opium dens. And here I assumed after journeying with Jones, he would know me better.” Blake was clearly disappointed.
Matthew replayed Jones’s words again before saying, “I too spent time with Jones, and he is extremely astute, an excellent judge of character. I’d say Jones was conveying his suspicions that there is more to Ellingsworth than what might appear.” Had he inadvertently defended the man he swore to hate?
Blake said, “We still have to ascertain what information Burke used to blackmail Flarinton.”
Archbroke said, “It can’t be the obvious. Flarinton’s aging disease has plagued him to varying degrees for years.” Tapping a finger against his lean waist, he continued, “Burke probably advised Prinny it was of no matter since it was in his favor.”
Archbroke was right. Neither the king nor the Prince Regent were interested in state affairs. Prinny was only interested in his building projects and lavish parties.
Archbroke mumbled, “Admittedly, while it took me a few months to adjust to working with her, Lady Grace did admirably for the duration of the war.”
Who was this man? Archbroke never praised Grace for her capabilities.
“What are you gawking at, Harrington?”
Matthew turned to Blake, “He’s an impostor!”
Blake chuckled, “He is not an impostor. The man before you is the result of Theo knocking sense into him.”
“Theo?”
Blake was right. The man’s whole demeanor softened as he uttered his wife’s name. Matthew was surrounded by men in love, the punishment he deserved for abandoning Grace.
Archbroke continued, “Perhaps obvious to others, but Flarinton and Grace might be under a different impression. We need someone they trust to discuss this with them both at a… well, at the right time.”
Blake and Archbroke looked at Matthew pointedly.
“Me? You want me to be alone in the same room as her!”
“No, in the same room as Lady Grace and her papa,” Archbroke replied.
“I won’t do it.” He would rather resign than be trapped in a room with the woman who had betrayed him.
Crown before all else. Damnation. He was no novice agent. He’d simply have to treat this like any other assignment. Doubts about his ability to ignore the lingering emotions that refused to be banished from his heart and mind resurfaced.
Standing to his full height and adopting a tone that brooked no argument, Archbroke said, “Lord Harrington, your assignment is—”
Matthew raised his hand. “No need to be overdramatic.” It was inevitable that he would see Grace at social events. Better to figure out the best way to deal with her now before she was married and enceinte with another man’s child. Matthew conceded, “I’ll try to speak to her in private this evening.”
“Splendid.” Archbroke slapped his gloves across his thigh and headed for the door with a spring in his step Matthew had never seen before.
Frowning, he said, “I don’t care for that man. I want the old Archbroke back. At least he was predictable. This new version…” The image of his superior a year ago was vastly different from the man who strode from his study. “Has Archbroke lost a stone or two?”
“Yes. These days you can find him fencing at Angelo’s at least twice a week and at Jackson’s at least once a week. Add that to activities he enjoys with Theo.”
“Devonton!”
“Get your brain out of the gutter, Harrington. I wasn’t referring to bed sport, although from her condition, that may have something to do with his altered physical condition. I expect you will find his counterpart, Lady Grace, has also greatly changed since you last saw her. I want to warn you…”
Warn? Did Matthew want to hear it? He unsteadily poured himself another drink and swallowed it in one gulp before turning his full attention back to Blake.
“Yes? Warn me…”
“My superior did not appreciate you ignoring a direct order.”
“She ordered me to stay put and let Hereford do my duty. I was the one who was ordered to protect you. I would never let another clean up or fix my mess. It was unreasonable for her to issue such an order.”
“She wanted to protect you. She was in love with you.”
“Yes. Was. As in no longer is. Grace now belongs to Ellingsworth.”
“She believed you acted rashly and abandoned her.”
“Of all the people we are acquainted with, she should have understood.”
“Grace understood, all right. You chose duty rather than her.”
No, Blake had it all wrong. He had a job to do. Grace should have supported his decision. It had been the right and honorable thing to do to hunt down his best friend’s kidnapper, even if it meant leaving her.
Chapter Five
Spying Silverman’s dour features at the door, Grace vacated her favorite velvet upholstered chair in her papa’s private study. Her movements caused Lord Flarinton to cease his pacing and face her. Grace slipped her tired feet back into her slippers and said, “I believe Lord Ellingsworth has arrived. It is time I met my intended.”
“I shall accompany you.”
“My thanks for your support. However, it would be best if you and Mama entertained and greeted the other guests as they arrive.” She preceded her papa to the door.
Silverman said, “Lord Ellingsworth is awaiting you in the green drawing room. I shall escort Lord Flarinton to the garden room.”
With a nod, she turned to her left and made her way down the corridor. Nervous at leaving her papa alone for more than a few minutes, Grace lengthened her stride. Glad she wasn’t to meet her fiancé for the first time at the altar, she was simultaneously annoyed with the entire situation. She came to an abrupt halt.
Matthew was there—with his ear pressed to the drawing-room door. He raised his hand in a warning not to approach.
Oh no. This was her house, and she’d do as she pleased. Sidestepping the board that crea
ked, she headed straight for the door while Matthew anticipated her move and shifted quickly to block her way.
For a moment, Grace stood mesmerized by his blue-gray eyes. Her body longed for him to haul her into his arms, and her mind wished he’d reassure her all was right between them. She gave herself a good mental shake.
In a harsh whisper, she demanded, “What are you about?”
In typical Matthew fashion, he replied with a question of his own. “Can you explain why Ellingsworth would be meeting with Theo and her husband?”
The slight upturn of Matthew’s mouth and the curiosity in his eyes told her one thing. He was still pursuing his investigations into the existence of what most considered an old wives’ tale. Three families, who have for generations sworn to serve the Crown, referred to as the Protectors of the Royal Family, PORFs. She suspected that his absurd obsession in identifying the three family names was part of the reason why Matthew ignored her pleas to remain in England.
Jaw clenched, Grace answered, “I haven’t the slightest clue.”
Matthew’s narrowed gaze bore into hers. She’d witnessed the look many a time as he interrogated enemy spies, but she’d never been on the receiving end. The man’s stare was relentless as if he had the ability to look into her soul and determine if she were telling the truth. She was on the brink of confessing her love for him when a flash of guilt appeared in his eyes.
Matthew looked away. “I need to speak with Archbroke.”
His words crushed the last ounce of hope Grace possessed. Of course, he wasn’t sneaking about searching for her. She was no longer of any interest to him.
Holding back the hurt and tears, Grace moved to step around him. His hand reached out to brush against her shoulder. She whirled around to face him. “I need to meet with my intended.”
His hand dropped from her. “I apologize. I should not have touched you.”
Grace closed her eyes as she willed the pain of his words away. She shouldn’t want him to touch her. She shouldn’t want him at all. “That is the problem, my lord. I’m about to meet my fiancé for the first time, and all I can think about is you.”
“First time?”
Her sorrow briefly forgotten as Matthew’s features transformed from a disgruntled bear to a gaping fish. Registering it was the first time she’d ever managed to catch Matthew off guard only had the sadness seeping back into her as she confessed, “The contracts and agreements were all arranged by his papa, Lord Burke.”
The door to the drawing room swung open, and Theo popped her head out. “Would the two of you care to join us, or are you going to loiter about in the hall all evening?”
Matthew finally regained his voice. “Where is your husband? I wish to speak to him.”
Archbroke appeared next to his wife in the doorway. “Lady Grace, I must say you look lovely this eve. With your permission, Harrington and I shall adjourn to the library.”
At Matthew’s incredulous look, Grace said through barely parted lips, “Theo has had a most profound effect upon the man.” She moved forward to stand in front of Theo and Archbroke, leaving Matthew behind. “The library is yours to use.” Grace found herself engulfed in a hug from Theo. Pulling back, she looked into Theo’s brilliant green eyes. “You are looking well.” Theo had a glow that could only be attributed to one condition—she was with child.
A blush appeared on Theo’s cheeks. “Yes. Thank goodness I have not suffered as Lucy did.”
Over Theo’s shoulder, Grace’s gaze fell upon the outline of a gentleman standing by the window. A pang of jealousy hit her. Both of her closest and most trusted friends were happily married to men who adored them. They were also embarking upon the next stage of life as wife and mother, while here she was about to meet Lord Ellingsworth, a purported dullard, with whom she was to spend the rest of her living days. Stifling a groan, Grace stepped farther into the drawing room.
The fabric of her betrothed’s coat wrinkled across his back as his shoulders straightened. Only a few feet away, Grace noted the man’s dark brown hair was trimmed shorter than the current fashion sported by Mr. Brummell and his set. Grace called upon all her years of training to mask any signs of surprise. Lord Ellingsworth’s skin was not pale from lack of sunlight, nor did it sport a yellow tinge that would have indicated years of debauchery and swill. No. The man standing before her was hale and showed no signs of having air for brains. His light blue eyes sparkled with clarity. There was no indication the man was befuddled in the least.
Grace squared her shoulders and dipped into a curtsey. “Lord Ellingsworth.”
“We are to be married. Please address me as Tobias.”
Placing her hand into his upturned palm, she raised to stand. “Tobias. It is a pleasure to meet you.” The warmth of his touch calmed her nerves.
“Ah, but the pleasure is all mine.” They were not alone, and Tobias withdrew his hand.
His tone was clear and precise. It wasn’t laced with mockery or malice like his papa’s. Frowning, Grace found it challenging to reconcile the man standing before her and the man described by her informants.
Theo broke the silence. “Archbroke, let us join the other guests. It’s time we leave and allow Lord Ellingsworth to get to know Lady Grace better.”
Archbroke moved to obey his wife’s command but came up short as Matthew blocked his progress. Grace lifted her foot to go to Matthew, but she froze as Tobias placed a hand at the small of her back.
Matthew glared at Theo. “You are going to leave Grace alone with…”
Theo slapped Matthew on the arm. “What is the matter with you? They are betrothed!”
Matthew shifted, avoiding Theo’s attempt to turn him about. He’d once looked at Grace with naked desire, but now his eyes, deep, dark wells of anger, reflected nothing. “We should return to the garden room. Lord Flarinton needs our support.”
He still cared for her papa, but not for her. Grace turned away from Matthew, squeezing her eyes tight against the deluge of tears threatening to overflow. Tobias’s hand rested upon her shoulder.
From behind her, Matthew emitted a feral growl followed by shuffled footsteps. Grace glanced up at Tobias. “Are they gone?”
He nodded. The concern in his eyes was overwhelming. A tear escaped, rolling down her face.
Tobias gently swiped the tear away. “He will come around in time.”
Grace settled herself upon the couch. “You’re wrong. You don’t know him.” No one does anymore, not even me.
“Harrington was right. We shouldn’t be alone, but first, we have a few matters to discuss and reach agreement upon.”
Tobias moved to stand by the window once more. With his attention drawn away from her, Grace stared at her betrothed. Physically Tobias was a younger version of his papa. He had the same refined nose with a slight upturn and lips that were now pulled taut into a straight line. They shared the same eye color, but while there was a wily edginess to Lord Burke’s eyes, his son’s gaze was stout and guileless. While Grace had instantly disliked Lord Burke upon introduction, her instincts told her to trust Tobias. But what if the impulse was wrong?
Tobias placed his hands behind his back, but his focus remained on the activities outside the window. “The man who sired me will be arriving soon, and I need to share a few pertinent details with you.”
She waited for him to continue. When he glanced over his shoulder at her, she had regained her composure and now sat on the edge, intently listening.
Tobias lifted a hand to pull the drapes to one side. “I will go along with this sham of an engagement for a period. But let me be clear—we will not be married. I have no interest in whatever arrangements Lord Burke has made.”
Too exhausted to stand, Grace muttered, “Wait. What do—”
He turned to face her and raised a hand in midair. “Let me explain, and then I’ll gladly answer any questions you may have. Agreed?”
Grace stared at Tobias. Was this a trick of some sort? She didn’t know the m
an well, but he used a hand gesture before he spoke rather than after. Liars tended to use hand movements after starting a conversation to distract their audience from their words. And his gaze never flickered away like when one was telling a fib or set out to deceive. No, the man steadily met her gaze. She gave him a curt nod.
Tobias returned his attention back to the street front. “I’ve known for years of my sire’s underhanded dealings, and I want no part of his schemes.”
“Is that why you associate yourself with…” Grace stopped mid-sentence as Tobias’s fierce scowl fell upon her. “Sorry—I agreed to no questions until after you are finished. Proceed.”
His scowl disappeared, replaced by a look of resolution. “This betrothal has come at the most inconvenient time. I was to set sail in three weeks. I have investors and business partners awaiting my arrival in New York.”
Before she could stop herself, Grace blurted, “You were to tour America?”
“I see you can’t help but make inquiries.” Instead of a scowling, Tobias smiled and said, “No, not a grand tour. To leave and never return. I believe Lord Burke was advised of my plans and set his own in play. But the man is getting old. And I swear I will set matters straight before I take my leave. All I ask is that you agree to follow my lead. In order for my plan to succeed, I will need you to act the besotted fiancé.”
Grace rolled to her feet, no longer able to sit for the conversation. “Why should I trust you? Gossips have pegged you a dimwit with few morals, if any.” She walked to stand next to Tobias by the window. She needed to be able to see his facial expressions to detect the small nuances that would indicate he was behaving dishonorably.
Tilting his head in her direction, he answered, “You have acted as Foreign Secretary since the ripe old age of eighteen, which means you now have five years of experience to rely upon. For those privy to such information, you are known for your quick, decisive actions and unwavering ability to judge character within moments. Am I a dimwit?”
How was he aware of such details? None of her reports indicated he would have committed such information to memory. She narrowed her gaze upon her betrothed. None of his facial muscles were taut. His lips were curved easily into a smile, not an overexaggerated, feigned smile that would typically accompany a lie. Tobias’s gaze was steady, with no rapid blinking, and his eyes sparkled clear with intelligence. He exhibited none of the traits of a liar nor a man lacking astuteness. No. The man before her was no idiot but a master of disguise.
Confessions of Lady Grace Page 4
