“Yes, it is empty except for a Mr. Slater who is waiting in the first room to your right.”
“Mr. Slater?” For the first time since she had made her reluctant promise, Roma broke her unnatural silence. “Thomas Slater?”
With a frown, Giles turned to send her a sharp glance.
“Do you know him?”
“Yes, he has stayed at Greystead Manor on a number of occasions.” She gave a puzzled shrug. “I believe he served in my brother’s regiment, but I haven’t seen him for several months. What would he be doing here?”
“That is what we are going to discover,” Giles answered; then he gave a nod toward his groom. “Jameson, I want you to stay here and watch the road. Give the signal if you sense anything unusual.”
“Are you sure?” The groom frowned, his pug face creased with lines of concern. “Perhaps it would be best if I go in with you, at least for a time.” His eyes darted in a meaningful manner toward Roma. “Just in case this proves to be a trap.”
Giles felt Roma stiffen at the less than subtle insinuation, and he flashed her a taunting smile.
“I do not believe that will be necessary, Jameson; however, I do want you to keep plenty of rope within reach. If this rather annoying young woman retracts her promise to keep her sharp tongue firmly silent, then I have every intention of having her tied to the nearest tree.”
Roma gave an audible gasp, and with a distinct twinkle in his eye, Jameson gravely nodded his head.
“Very good, my lord.”
Suppressing a chuckle at the fury he could feel trembling through Roma, Giles headed toward the cottage, his sideways glance lingering on the determined thrust of her stubborn chin.
“Tell me about this Thomas Slater.”
Her look could have slain a dragon at ten paces.
“And risk being bound to a tree by your groom? No, thank you, my lord.”
His lips trembled, but he kept his tone arrogant enough to rub against her already sensitive nerves.
“I give you leave to speak for the moment. I find it highly curious that you should be acquainted with this man.”
Always unpredictable, she swallowed her anger and gave a mocking toss of her head.
“Perhaps Jameson was correct to worry, my lord. This might very well be an elaborate scheme concocted to lure you into a diabolical trap.”
Giles arched a raven brow. “And what is your role in this elaborate scheme? The damsel in distress or the seductress?”
With great anticipation, Giles watched as an endearing blush flooded her cheeks.
“Obviously the damsel in distress,” she snapped.
“A pity.” He heaved a rueful sigh. “If I am to be lured into a diabolical trap it seems the least you could do is satisfy—”
“Lord Carlton, I have no wish to continue this ridiculous conversation.”
“Coward,” he breathed out, then relented with a small chuckle. “Very well, Roma, but on the condition that you answer my questions in a reasonable manner and that you remember, at least in private, that my name is Giles. Is that a deal?”
She paused, clearly resenting the fact that he momentarily held the upper hand; then with an audible hiss she gave a sharp nod of her head.
“Very well … Giles.”
An unexpected surge of pleasure entered his heart at the sound of his name on her lips, and convinced that love had completely addled his brain, he attempted to turn his thoughts to the serious matter at hand.
“Now, what do you know about Thomas Slater?”
“Really no more than I have already told you.” She wrinkled her brow as she attempted to remember. “He and William seemed fairly close in age, and as I said, I was under the impression they served in the same regiment. He was quiet, polite and always the perfect guest. When William first returned to Greystead Manor, Mr. Slater would visit on a regular basis, but I haven’t seen him for some time.”
Giles absorbed her words in thoughtful silence. He had already suspected that William Allendyle was more involved with covert government operations than his sister had thought, and now he was even more certain.
“Let us hope he has some information that will aid in our search,” he said softly.
Still holding her arm, Giles led Roma into the shadowed cottage, his instincts on full alert despite Jameson’s assurances that it was safe. Pausing until his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he was surprised to discover the interior of the small house was in considerably better repair than the outside. No doubt it was a deliberate ploy to convince a casual observer the place was unoccupied and of little use, he acknowledged, having some experience with the government’s delight in creating false images. With a cautious step he moved across the foyer, entering the room on his right, which proved to be empty but for a heavy desk and two battered armchairs.
At their entrance a slender man with a long face and a rumpled thatch of blond hair rose to his feet, a pair of shrewd blue eyes abruptly narrowing at the sight of Roma.
“Good God, Miss Allendyle. What the devil are you doing here?”
“I am searching for William,” she said, her voice husky with emotion. “And I am desperately hoping you might have some information to help me.”
Surprisingly unaffected by the sight of a well-bred lady dressed in breeches and presumably alone in the company of two unrelated men, Thomas Slater sent her a compassionate smile that was far too familiar for Giles’s peace of mind.
“I wish that I did, Miss Allendyle. Like you, I am deeply concerned about his welfare.”
With a frown, Giles stepped forward, not liking the feeling that the two had forgotten his presence.
“Perhaps we could make ourselves comfortable before we begin this discussion, Mr. Slater? It has been a rather … eventful day thus far.”
“Of course.” With a wry smile, the younger man ran a distracted hand through his tangled hair. “I am afraid the amenities are not the best, but I did bring along a fine bottle of brandy.”
“I will forgo the brandy for now.” Giles carefully seated Roma in one of the armchairs before taking the one next to her. His protective manner was quite deliberate, and he was pleased that Thomas Slater carefully noted his possessive attitude. “I think we should first share all our information and then decide what is best to be done.”
Slater gave a slow nod of his head and sank back into his chair.
“Very well. Halcott assured me that I could trust you fully with any information that might be considered classified by our government, and of course, I know that Miss Allendyle is trustworthy.” He sent the silent woman an encouraging smile. “William often rued the fact that you were born a woman. He claimed the military lost a great soldier when you were unable to buy a pair of colors.”
Roma blushed, but it was obvious she was pleased by his words. A ridiculous stab of irritation shot through Giles’s heart.
“Perhaps you should start by telling us exactly what your relationship with William Allendyle is,” he said, his sharp tone bringing a surprised glance from Roma and a curious frown from Slater.
“Certainly,” the younger man agreed, his own tone mild. “We met when we both joined the regiment. We arrived on the same day which, I suppose, helped to begin our friendship, since we were both forced to endure the torture of being raw recruits and were usually thrown together to complete whatever vile task needed to be done. Over time we developed a strong trust that can only be forged between people who depend on one another for their very lives. We watched out for one another and helped to keep each other sane after the fire of battle. When William sold out his commission, I was determined to keep in contact with him. We were like brothers, perhaps even closer than most brothers.”
Giles unconsciously nodded his head. His own time spent in the military had revealed the extraordinary bonds forged between men in battle. The hardships of war had the ability to strip aside social status, lineage and prejudices. Soldiers were just men, most of them scared and homesick, attempting to s
tay alive. And the only thing important was that you could trust the man guarding your back.
“Were you the one to approach William about working for the government?”
“Yes, not long after William sold out, I took a bullet through the leg. Nothing serious, but enough to put me back in London. Lord Halcott contacted me and asked that I … run a few errands for the government. Since I was close to Greystead Manor, I took the opportunity to spend time with William, and he quickly guessed my reasons for being in the vicinity and volunteered to help.”
Giles stretched out his legs, templing his slender fingers beneath his bluntly chiseled chin.
“Can you tell us precisely what he was doing?”
Slater gave a small shrug. “Usually it was passing information from one courier to the next.”
“To you?”
“Not usually.” Slater opened one of the desk drawers to pull out a bottle of brandy and a glass, setting them both on the desk. “There was another agent in the area. That was his usual contact.”
“Really?” Giles was surprised by the information. “Do you know who it was?”
“No. The government is careful that each person is only privy to a small amount of information.” He waved a hand in a rueful motion. “I was in fact hoping that you or perhaps even Miss Allendyle might have some notion who it might be.”
“Me?” Roma blinked in surprise. “No, he never said a word to me.”
Slater heaved a sigh. “That is a pity.”
“Why do you say that?” Giles demanded, unconsciously reaching over to grasp Roma’s hand in a reassuring motion.
The younger man paused, pouring himself a large shot of the brandy before breaking the tense silence.
“The last time I spoke with William he seemed worried. It took some time, but I at last convinced him to confess what was troubling him.” He took a swift drink of the brandy, sending the apprehensive Roma a concerned glance. “He said he suspected someone was selling information to the French.”
Giles heard Roma gasp in dismay, and his hand tightened in reaction to her response.
“That is a serious charge,” he said. “Did he say who it was he suspected?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Slater shook his head, his youthful face lined with an expression of deep concern. “All I know is he was determined to find some proof of his suspicions. That was nearly six weeks ago. I haven’t heard a word from him since.”
A shaft of cold pierced Giles’s heart. Treason. No crime carried a heavier penalty, and few such criminals would not sink to any level to protect their own skins. If William had been foolish enough to attempt to corner such a man on his own, there was a good chance that he had indeed stumbled into a hornet’s nest.
Still, Giles knew it was important that he keep such dark thoughts to himself. One glance at Roma’s white face was enough to prove she fully understood the danger in which her brother had placed himself. What she needed at the moment was a measure of hope that her brother would be found and returned home safe and sound.
“Did he mention where he intended to search?”
Slater gave a vague shrug. “Why, London of course.”
Giles frowned, not completely satisfied with the answer. “Is there anything else that might help us?”
“No, not really.”
Another silence fell, and Giles slowly rose to his feet. There was little point in remaining and simply going over the same information. Besides, he knew that he needed to get Roma back to her aunt before she was missed.
“I assume you will contact us if you do hear from William?” he asked.
“But of course.” Slater rose to his feet, rounding the desk so he could cross to help Roma from her chair. “And Miss Allendyle, I want you to know that I am doing everything possible to find William. If I hear anything, anything at all, you will be the first to know.”
She flashed him a weak smile. “Thank you, Mr. Slater.”
“Thomas,” he corrected in a kind voice.
“All right … Thomas.”
Giles broke into the conversation, recapturing her hand in a firm grip. “Come, Roma, we must go.” He found the easy familiarity between Roma and this man extremely annoying. In fact, he had a completely ridiculous urge to wipe the boyish smile from Slater’s overly handsome face. Instead, he pulled the startled Roma close to his side, his entire body bristling with a very masculine possessiveness. “You can contact me through Halcott if you need anything.”
“Very well.”
Without giving the man any further opportunity to speak with Roma, Giles determinedly led her from the cottage, using her distracted inattention to herd her toward his waiting carriage. It was only as she actually climbed into the dark interior that she abruptly became aware of her surroundings.
“My horse—”
“Jameson is collecting the beast as we speak,” he reassured her, half-pushing her into the far corner of the carriage before climbing in to join her. “Although if someone happens to notice such a nag trailing behind my carriage, my reputation will be in shreds.”
“What? Oh … yes.” She smiled, but it was clear that her thoughts were faraway.
With a frown Giles leaned forward, his expression concerned. “Roma, you can not give up hope,” he reminded her in a stern voice.
She gave a small sigh, her hazel eyes much too large in her somber face.
“Actually, I haven’t. As absurd as it might seem, I truly believe I would know if something … terrible had happened to him.”
“There’s nothing absurd about that at all.” He sent her an encouraging smile. “And we now have Mr. Slater helping us in our search.”
She gave a vague nod. “Yes.”
“Roma”—he abruptly narrowed his gaze, sensing trouble in the air—“what scheme have you come up with now?”
She reacted with a small start, as if surprised by his perceptive question, but for a pleasant change, she confided her inner thoughts without a protracted argument.
“I was thinking about Thomas’s words,” she said, unaware of Giles’s deep frown at her casual use of another man’s name. “If my brother was just a courier who worked close to Greystead Manor, then whoever he suspected would have to be in the area as well.”
Giles raised his brows at the logic in her hesitant words.
“True enough,” he agreed.
“And if he was searching for proof, it would make no sense to come to London.” She wrinkled her brow, clearly attempting to reason out her growing dissatisfaction. “It would be much more logical to remain at Greystead and do his investigation from there.”
“You are right.” He took in a sharp breath, realizing that she had managed to expose his own inner puzzlement. Clearly William Allendyle would have remained close to home if he’d suspected there was a dangerous criminal in the area. “And the chances are that any clues to his whereabouts are there as well.”
“I have to go home,” she cried, her tiny frame taut with apprehension. “I should never have left.”
“Easy, Roma,” he said in a soothing tone. “You did what you thought best at the time. But I agree. We do need to return to Greystead. The only question is how we can accomplish the trip without causing any unnecessary attention.”
She opened her mouth as if to declare that she couldn’t care less about causing needless chatter, but the realization that her actions might very well endanger her brother had her grudgingly swallowing her angry words.
“You can not expect me to wait until Aunt Clara is ready to return home? That might be weeks,” she complained in frustration.
He paused; then a slow smile tugged at his mouth. On one level he knew the idea that had so abruptly popped into his mind was utterly reprehensible. It also revealed just how desperate his newfound emotions had made him, but any sense of right or wrong seemed to be overshadowed by his need to bind this woman to his life.
“I believe I have a plan that can allow us to return to Greystead Manor without a
nyone questioning our motives.”
“Really?” Her sudden expression of relief was almost his undoing. “What is it?”
Closing his mind to the vague voice at the back of his mind that warned him he was behaving in a less than honorable manner, Giles settled back in his seat with an enigmatic smile.
“I have a few details yet to work out. Tomorrow, however, I promise that I will have everything set in motion. You should be home by the end of the week.”
Twelve
Roma was up early the next morning after a restless night, thankful that she had managed to return to her room the evening before without anyone realizing that she hadn’t spent the entire day in bed with a migraine. But while she was grateful to Giles for his assistance in returning her to London without creating a scandal, she did resent his refusal to discuss his mysterious plan that would allow her to return to Greystead Manor.
It wasn’t like the arrogant man to give a decision such careful thought, she acknowledged with a flare of impatience. He was the type who decided a course of action and forged ahead with complete confidence that he had chosen the correct path. But as he had helped her to slip into her room last evening, he had momentarily grabbed her fingers, his expression unnaturally somber as he had gazed deeply into her wide eyes.
“Do you trust me, Roma?” he had asked softly.
Bemused by the unexpected question, she had nodded her head without thought. “Of course.”
The blue eyes had darkened with an unreadable emotion, and his grip had tightened on her fingers.
“Then, whatever I decide to do tomorrow, you must believe that I am acting in your own best interest. Remember that, Roma.”
With one last lingering glance, he had disappeared into the shadows surrounding the house, leaving behind a very suspicious young lady.
Did she trust Lord Giles Carlton? That question, along with the memories of her shameful reaction to his kiss, had kept her awake most of the night. It simply made no sense. How could she supposedly detest a man, yet know deep in her heart that he was the only man she would depend upon in a time of trouble—and even more frightening, the only man who had made her understand the poignant pleasure of being a woman?
Lord Carlton’s Courtship Page 12
