by Sue Barr
He and Evangeline had searched both men thoroughly, finding no form of identification on either of them. The cultured tones and soft hands of the one man hinted of a decent education and no hard labor. Had he been the leader or following someone else’s orders? The same sense of familiarity washed over George again.
“Who knows?” Lord Grayson removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “At times, I think there are more people working for Boney in England than in France. Money can turn the most patriotic away from their King. Even our own Prime Minister was assassinated.”
“Nasty business that. I’m still not convinced there wasn’t a conspiracy.” George rose to his feet and paced to the window, clasping his hands behind his back. “So, what am I to do? Become another useless Peer of the realm?”
“You do yourself a disservice, Lord Kerr. Your family name has a proud history. The ton does not know you were working for the Crown. You are their golden boy who has sowed more than his share of wild oats. Continue on with your life. Find a pretty girl and get married. It would make your brother the Duke a happy man if you settled down.”
Memories of dark curls caressing creamy shoulders and soft brown eyes gazing up at him popped into his mind. Now why would he think of Miss Katherine Bennet a time like this? Their conversation during Mr. Darcy’s wedding breakfast lasted only a few minutes, but he’d felt a tug at the shy smile and becoming blush which had stained her cheeks.
He turned to face Lord Grayson.
“My brothers would be more than ecstatic if I joined Nathan in marital bliss, but unfortunately, I played the part of a Rake so well all the dear mamma’s hide their daughters when I enter the ballroom.”
“Then you should cast your lure in a different pond, my boy. You have several nice lakes near Adborough Hall and there are times when local fish are better for the palate.”
George nodded in agreement at the apt metaphor. If memory served him correctly, there was also a lake near Pemberley and he would be there for his brother’s wedding. Would Miss Katherine Bennet also be in attendance?
“It was a pleasure to work with you, Lord Kerr.” Lord Grayson rose from his chair and extended his hand toward George, who returned from the window and shook it firmly. “I wish you a long and healthy life.”
“Thank you, Lord Grayson. Might I add, it was an honor to serve my country and if you ever need me, in any way, you only have to send the word and I’ll be there.”
“I know you would, lad. I know you would. Since Pitt’s assassination, we live in perilous times and we need all those who are loyal to the Monarchy.”
Within minutes, George exited the offices where Lord Grayson conducted his business and approached a non-descript carriage manned by his trusted driver, Henry.
“Where to, my Lord.”
“Kerr house.” George entered the carriage and closed the door.
“Yes, sir.” Henry flicked the reins and the horses took off at a brisk pace toward Mayfair. George used the time to think over his conversation with Lord Grayson. He’d hired Bow Street Runners to scour the area for any leads. From there, they hoped to ascertain who the educated man’s connections were. Hopefully they were discreet with their enquiries. Spies had a tendency to hide. He should know – he’d been hiding in plain sight for almost five years.
A few months later...
“It’s good to see you, Max.” George dug into his roasted pheasant with gusto.
“Same here, brother. It’s been months since I’ve been away from Adborough Hall.”
George and his brother Max, the fourth Duke of Adborough, were enjoying a quiet meal at White’s. For the past five months they’d been in half mourning following the death of their Uncle Moreland and his wife Millicent. Not that George minded. Mourning was a convenient excuse to avoid the crush of Society’s balls. Now that all the young ladies had made their curtsy before Queen Charlotte, the hunt for a husband would intensify and he had no wish to run the gauntlet of anxious mothers at every soiree, ball or afternoon tea.
“Have you managed to wrap up Uncle Moreland’s estate?”
“Almost. My solicitors are searching for the rightful heir. The cousin who inherited is in the army and was sent to the Canada’s last year. They’re trying to find out where the good lieutenant is and if he’s still alive.” Max signaled a footman.
“May I get you anything, Your Grace?” the footman asked with a respective bow.
“Yes. Some more port wine.”
“Right away, your Grace.”
“What was I saying?” Max turned his attention back to George.
“Your solicitors were trying to find Uncle Moreland’s heir who is in the thick of battle in the colonies. What happens if he’s deceased?”
“You won’t believe this, but Nathan inherits.”
George almost choked on the wine he was drinking. He lowered the glass, wiped his mouth with a white linen napkin and coughed out a laugh. “Our brother Nathan, who gave up everything to join the church?”
“One and the same.” Max lifted a napkin to his mouth, but George could tell he was smiling as well.
“Oh, that’s rich. If he does inherit, can I be there when you tell him?”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“Since you became the Duke, you aren’t any fun.”
“You, my brother, have more fun than all of us combined. I have heard tales of you skirting the edges of good moral standing, squiring about the beautiful widow, Countess Anstruther. May I remind you we are still in mourning until the end of this month? Someday you will stand before God and account for all your deeds.”
“I will stand before Him with a clear conscience.”
Max raised an eyebrow at that statement, but George didn’t elaborate. He couldn’t elaborate. He wasn’t at liberty to reveal details of his double life, even though he no longer actively worked for the Crown. There were others whose very lives depended on him maintaining secrecy. One day, hopefully soon when the war ended, he’d be able to share his well-kept secret and let his brothers know he’d not forsaken their deeply held beliefs.
As it was, his cover was nearly blown four years ago in France. Navigating around some thick brush by a busy road, he’d stumbled upon an attempted ambush. By chance, he’d spotted a French soldier behind a thick hedge, waiting for two British cavalry officers riding along what should have been a safe lane.
He’d immediately recognized one of the officers as his brother Nathan. No one sat a horse as well as he. Aware the Frenchman had not detected his presence; he slid the knife from his boot and with great stealth advanced through the underbrush. The infantryman, so intent on the two British soldiers, never once heard George approach. With deadly silence he quickly dispatched the French soldier while Nathan passed by, never once suspecting how close he came to dying that day.
“I’m sorry, George. I didn’t mean to put a damper on our evening.” Max said, obviously misunderstanding his silence. As he’d done many times before, George shrugged his shoulders and behaved as though nothing bothered him. He was still the free-wheeling brother who had yet to settle down.
“No harm, Max. One day I’ll find a quiet chit of a girl to marry, but not tonight.” Maybe one with luxurious curls and big chocolate brown eyes, he mused. He gave his head a shake at the mental image of Miss Katherine Bennet. Lately, she’d begun to invade his thoughts more and more. Not for the first time he hoped she’d be at Nathan and Caroline’s wedding in November. Maybe then he could put this distraction to rest.
Max glanced past George and tensed, his lips thinning with displeasure. George glanced over his shoulder to see who had elicited such a response from his unflappable brother, recognizing Lord Herbert Jacobson, the Viscount Stanhope.
“Adborough.”
“Stanhope,” Max murmured as Lord Herbert walked past their table. The Viscount acknowledged George with barely a polite nod and a slight sneer.
“He’s a sor
ry piece of humanity,” Max grumbled once Stanhope was out of hearing. “I once told Nathan he had the intelligence of a potato.”
“How insulting to the potato. Never mind him, at least tonight he was polite. Usually he calls me...” George’s gaze narrowed and he twisted in his seat and watched Viscount Stanhope enter the gaming rooms.
“What does he call you?”
“...a prancing dandy.”
All scripture verses used in Caroline, Pride & Prejudice continued... Book One, are taken from the King James Bible
(1)Jeremiah 29:11
(2)Provers 3: 5-6
(3)Deuteronomy 4: 29
(4)Psalms 51: 1
(5)Psalms 51: 10
(6)Proverbs 31: 28
