“I love him, Mama.” She had no issue speaking the truth, or for any of her family to know that there could be no other for her, other than James.
“Your beau is so much like your dear papa in nature, never willing to leave any stone unturned when it comes to family and matters of the heart. You will never be able to give him up, and with that being the case, we must come up with a plan.” A firm look. “One can’t live their life in fear, which you must never forget.”
“I have a plan in mind.” Nibbling on her bottom lip, she smoothed her pale blue skirts. “I’m not sure you’ll agree with it though.”
“Do tell.” Mama waved her to continue.
“Yes, do tell,” Olivia demanded as she sat on Mama’s other side.
“I intend to keep the Earl of Donnelly on his toes, to ensure he knows he can confide in me, and to always be there to support him, his sister as well.”
“That will surely show your devotion and love, your desire to be the lady who stands at his side too. That is a sound plan.” A confirming nod from Mama before she glanced at her sister and gently touched her palm to Olivia’s cheek. “Even though you’re my youngest, and possibly the most mischievous of my three daughters, I need you to keep an eye on Sophia for me.”
“I shall, Mama.” Olivia kissed Mama’s cheek.
“Very good.” Mama shooed them with a swish of her hands. “I wish you both a wonderful day, and give Ellie a hug from me.”
“We will.” Sophia closed the door behind her and Olivia, then stomped a little too loudly down the hallway. “I can’t believe Mama told you to keep an eye on me.”
“Someone must, and the task has fallen to me for now.” Olivia skipped along merrily beside her.
“I can keep an eye on myself.” Downstairs, she marched.
“Yes, but you do find trouble far too easily. Hopefully I can keep you out of it.”
“Heavens, Sophia. You have extremely loud footsteps today.” In gray trousers and a blue jacket fitted smoothly across his broad shoulders, Winterly emerged from his study and waited at the base of the stairs. He pulled both her and Olivia into his arms, his hug as wonderful and all-encompassing as Papa’s had always been. “Are you two ready for your day at the museum?”
“Yes.” She squeezed him back. “We’ll collect Ellie on our way to Donnelly House.”
“I’ll have Jeeves bring the coach around.” He gestured toward his study as he strode away, his gaze on them over his shoulder. “Keep Captain Poole company while I do. I shan’t be long.”
“Of course.” She’d always enjoyed speaking to Captain Poole. She swished into her brother’s private domain and Poole rose from one of the two forest-green padded chairs in front of Winterly’s chunky oak desk.
Hat in one hand, he swept into an elegant bow before her, his regimental uniform of royal blue, silver and white impeccably pressed. “Good morning to you, Lady Sophia, Lady Olivia,” he added as her sister stepped in beside her. “Who I’ve already had the good fortune of spending some time with this morning.”
“As I have with you, Captain.” Olivia motioned toward her. “I’ve already spoken to my sister and shared your news that Harry’s doing well.”
“I do have more news if you’d like to hear it,” he offered.
“Yes, please, and welcome home, Captain Poole.” Sophia was eager to hear any news about Harry that he could impart. “We miss our brother dearly. Can you speak of Captain Harry Trentbury’s current orders?”
“Major Harry Trentbury now,” he corrected with a grin. “He advanced to major three weeks past. I’ve just informed Winterly, which Harry asked me to do. Winterly was thrilled of course.”
“Oh, how wonderful.” Sophia squealed, beyond excited for her brother. “Are you home on leave for long?”
“Five days is all, I’m afraid. Major Lord Bishophale asked me to return with papers for the War Office and I ride back to Wellington on the front line at the end of the week.”
Whistling cheerily, Winterly returned. “I heard the squeal which surely means you’ve both heard the good news about Harry?”
“Yes.” Sophia clapped, as did her sister. “Mama will be thrilled when she hears of Harry’s advancement through the ranks.”
“Beyond thrilled, and I’ll tell her shortly. Poole also informed me that Harry is about to embark on a secret mission, his engineering skills soon to be put to the test.” Her brother rested his backside on one corner of his desk.
“That sounds intriguing. Can you tell us more?” she asked Poole.
“Unfortunately, I can tell you only what I’ve told your brother.” A touch of firelight shimmered over the captain’s golden hair, his locks cropped short as many of the officers preferred. Harry too had sported the exact same hairstyle on his last bout of leave.
Goodness, but that had been almost a year ago now and she dearly wished he’d be able to return home for another visit soon. They’d all missed him dreadfully. “Is our brother’s mission dangerous?”
“Most of the missions we run are, but Harry’s is currently more suited to his inherent engineering abilities, if you understand my meaning?” With his gaze steadfast, he continued, “If you wish to write letters to him, I can pass them along. I’ll see Harry soon, very soon.”
“Yes, we’d love to do that. Where shall we send them?”
“Directly to me at the War Office. I’m more often there than not.”
“We’ll have them delivered to you before you leave, and speaking of the War Office, did you hear of the treasure chest which disappeared from one of the locked storage rooms?” She couldn’t help but ask. Perhaps Poole knew something and had additional information at hand. “Donnelly told me it vanished, and that Colonel Lord Heall hasn’t been able to locate the thief or any of the stolen items.”
“Yes, that’s true. A terrible tragedy too, Donnelly’s father and brother passing away while he was across the channel on duty. His entire regiment grieves with him.”
“He wishes to uncover the killer and ensure justice is sought, his belief being that their death could be connected to the stolen chest.”
“Well, if he needs my aid, I’ll gladly offer it.” He frowned, worry creasing his brow. “The colonel was most distressed that someone had had the audacity to sneak into the War Office and thieve that which clearly belongs to another. In this case a treasure chest belonging to the Spanish, the proceeds of which could ultimately aid them in their war. I’m surprised the magistrate hasn’t investigated further, that he’s concluded with the runner that their deaths were accidental.”
“Their bodies were found in the river, with no outward sign of struggle.” Winterly crossed his arms and tapped one foot. “That is why accidental death has been recorded. No bruising was discovered on their bodies, or wounds of any kind, and following the old earl’s death, his son was in deep despair, his grief immense.”
“The son’s grief is expected, but not his death.” Firm words from Poole. “I shall do my best to see what else I can uncover at the War Office.”
“Thank you, Captain.” She dipped her head.
“You’re most welcome, Lady Sophia.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, then did so with Olivia too. “Ladies, I do hope you enjoy your day.”
“Yes, I’m sure we shall.” She left her brother and Poole to resume their meeting and along with Olivia donned her gloves and stepped outside where their coach awaited them.
Once seated on the plush squabs, their driver closed the door and climbed atop his perch. A slap of the reins and the carriage bumped forward, the horses soon moving fluidly as they trotted down the road.
Across town, they journeyed to the fine street Ellie lived on and pulled into the circular driveway of a mansion constructed of stone with regal columns at the front and extensive gardens to the sides and rear. Their coachman opened the door and set the step on the ground.
“Good morning.” Cheeks flushed a healthy pink, Ellie accepted their driver’s aid and stepped
inside. She plopped down on the burgundy padded seat across from her and Olivia, laid her cloak on the squab and rearranged the folds of her red woolen skirts, the pointed toes of her half boots poking out from under the hem.
Gorman, Ashten’s butler and right-hand man, settled a basket at Ellie’s feet, the silvery streaks at the sides of his dark-haired head glimmering. “There are chicken sandwiches, Your Grace, an assortment of dried fruits and cheeses, lemonade, and sweet raspberry tarts. Is there anything else you might like to snack on while you travel?”
“No thank you, Gorman.” Ellie sent him a glowing smile. “I’m sure you’ve packed enough food for an army, and I shall enjoy all the treats.”
“Are you certain you don’t need me to accompany you?” A little flustered, he motioned to the top of the carriage. “I could sit up top with the driver, with no issue at all.”
“Oh, I’m very certain. We have yet to collect Lady Maria Hargrove who shall have a guard with her, so we will be well attended for the day.” She patted Gorman’s arm. “All will be well.”
“Your Grace, I worry about—”
“Gorman, try to enjoy your day without worrying about me.” Ellie pulled the door closed and rapped on the ceiling, dismissing Gorman as Sophia had never seen her sister do. “To Donnelly House, immediately,” Ellie called.
“What was that about?” Olivia crooked her head at Ellie. “I’ve never seen you be so rude to your butler.”
“Unfortunately,” Ellie murmured as she sank back, “Ashten let it slip to Gorman that I’m enceinte.”
“Pardon?” Olivia gaped. “You’re with child?”
“Yes.” A beaming smile from Ellie, her eyes twinkling.
“Oh my, congratulations.” Sophia bounced across and smothered Ellie in her arms, then Olivia giggled as she too enveloped them, the three of them squeezed in tight on one bench seat.
Ellie laughed as she squeezed them back. “You two are the first I’ve told, other than for Ashten, who is a big blabbermouth. He tries to hide his grin whenever Gorman hovers over me, but I see it. My husband is ecstatic that Gorman no longer pesters him every hour of the day, but me instead. Truly and honestly, I can no longer walk two steps without tripping over Gorman. He has tracking me down to a fine art too. In fact, I suspect he’s already saddling a horse and in pursuit. We shall see him at the museum and he will continue to hover over me all day, mark my words.”
“A little hovering never hurt anyone.” Olivia did a little jig on her bottom. “Mama and Winterly will be thrilled. Oh, and will you tell Maria today? I doubt we’ll be able to keep the news in now that you’ve told us. You have to write to Harry too, and let him know. We’re going to pen letters to him and hand them to Captain Poole before he leaves town. He’s brought some papers to the War Office and intends to return to Wellington at the end of the week.”
“Of course, I’ll tell Maria, and how is our dear Captain Poole?”
“Very well, and likely still with Winterly in his study. Harry’s now a major too.” Sophia did her own little jiggle. “Poole said he advanced three weeks past.”
“Oh my, how superb.” Ellie grasped their hands in hers, her golden curls fluttering down her back.
The carriage rolled down the driveway and along the streets toward Donnelly House. They continued chatting, asking Ellie all about her pregnancy, how she felt and what the doctor had said. This would be the first grandchild for Mama, the first niece or nephew for her, Olivia, and her brothers. So wonderful.
As they finally turned into Donnelly’s driveway, they trotted between two towering oak trees and rounded a green and white garden surrounding a graceful statue of a lady-angel dressed in a loosely draped gown, her head bent and feathery wings sweeping from her back and curving around her body, her wingtips resting at her feet. On an earlier visit, Maria had told her that her father had commissioned the piece following her mother’s death three years past. Fifteen years of age Maria had been at the time, and she’d believed wholeheartedly that her mother was now an angel in heaven, which her father had decreed to be the truth, thus the statue depicting her mother as an angel with wings, always and forever with them. Such a beautiful memorial to the late Lady Donnelly.
From the front door of Donnelly House, Maria hurried out with her guard, Sawyer, who took a position on the rear platform rather than joining their driver atop the coach, and—Sophia giggled as she saw why. Gorman leaned over from up top, one finger held in a shushing motion over his lips as he eyed her through the door. Such a wily, quick man. He must have bounded up when Ellie had shut the door at Blackgale House. No need for him to saddle a horse. He was already with them.
With her head covered in a dove-gray veil that fluttered down her back, Maria enveloped them in hugs before taking the seat next to Sophia, her black fur-lined cloak swaying from her shoulders. “How is everyone this morning?”
“Very excited.” Sophia caught Maria’s hands in hers as the coach moved forward down Donnelly’s driveway. “You’ll never guess.” She glanced at Ellie for permission to spill the news and when her sister nodded, she blurted, “Ellie is expecting.”
“You are?” A wide grin as Maria rose from her seat and squeezed Ellie. “Congratulations.”
Yes, huge congratulations were in order.
What a wonderful day.
Chapter 5
James alighted from his Donnelly coach at the docks, the gray skies overhead darkening as a storm brewed and the clatter of carts and men bustling about filled the air. He and Ashten had spoken at length on their journey to the docks and he’d fully updated his friend on the message he’d sent to Captain Bourbon, that he hoped to receive a reply soon so he might show Bourbon the drawing and hear of any information he’d uncovered. “How did you first meet Bourbon?” he asked Ashten as they weaved around others along the busy wooden walkway. “I’m immensely curious.”
Ashten tapped his cane as he strode, his tan tailcoats flapping and his hat firm atop his head. “We met four years past while I was in service with the hussars. Wellington had called a meeting, which I attended, directly before what could have been a very disastrous battle against Napoleon. Bourbon had come to Wellington with crucial information a mere twenty-four hours before we intended to attack the French. We weren’t certain if we could trust Bourbon’s word, but in the end, we chose to accept his information and we were most grateful we did. The battle would have been a deadly one for us, with the loss of thousands of lives, had we acted as we’d intended.”
“Interesting.” His regard about Bourbon lifted to a higher degree. “So, Captain Anteros Bourbon is a spymaster who fights to ensure our Englishmen don’t lose their lives in this atrocious war and appears fluent in several languages, his accent not one I could correctly pick when I visited him at his establishment. Which begs the question—where exactly does he hail from?”
“If you wish to truly understand Bourbon, then all you need to know is that he will side with any nation which revolts against the French. While I served with the hussars, I saw Bourbon in talks with the Portuguese, the Spanish, and the Sicilians, speaking each of their languages in turn. His desire is to see Napoleon brought to his knees, his belief that the Corsican should never be permitted to rule all of Europe. With that being the case, he will continue to lurk within the darker depths of London’s underworld to source whatever information he must to ensure Napoleon’s downfall. That is where he hails from, the shadows, where he’s most at home.”
“I see.” Well, he wholeheartedly agreed that Napoleon must be brought down. Flicking the collar of his greatcoat up against the cold wind, he passed by the murky brown waters of the Thames, this stretch of the river filled with ships and barges, their captains steering their vessels with care along the quayside. Dockworkers with caps on their heads, heaved cargo onto their shoulders and stacked it onto wheeled trolleys. Ships were being unloaded upon their arrival, while others were being loaded for their departure. His father had thrived within the hustle and bustle
of this area of London, as equally as he’d thrived in attending parliament, seeing to their many enterprises and maintaining their Donnelly earldom, townhouse and country estate. The three warehouses up ahead which belonged to his father now belonged to him, and he was expected to continue what his father had begun, what he’d always expected would be George’s. Still, it was his now and he would make his father and brother proud as he took the reins. He could do no less than that, in order to honor their memories.
“G’day, sirs.” A lad dashed past them then skipped backward with a tip of his cap, his mop of brown hair hiding his eyes and soot smeared across one cheek. Wearing breeches with loose suspenders and a brown woolen jacket which was far too big for his scrawny frame, the lad grinned. “The cap’n says he’s got more information ’bout yer drawin’, and looks forward to seeing it.”
“You’re with Captain Bourbon? Where is he?” Donnelly checked over his shoulder, but caught no sight of Bourbon among those on the walkway. He eyed the boy again. “What’s your name, lad?”
“Wills, sir.” The child bounced around him, his gaze on the apple bulging from within his coat pocket, the skin a shiny red and the stalk holding a small leaf at the tip.
“Here.” He rubbed the fruit on his coat, shone it some more and tossed it to the lad. “This would have been picked from one of my apple trees this morning. Enjoy.”
“Thank ye.” A big bite, juice dribbling down his chin. The lad turned on his heel and sprinted toward one of his brown-brick warehouses, then disappeared through the side entrance of the building housing the upstairs offices.
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