“Rice-Able was there three years ago,” he heard himself say unsteadily. “According to Embry, Costa Habichuela was granted him two years ago. There’s still a chance that—”
“Be serious,” Shay retorted. “I know you’re only rarely fooled, but it can happen. If it’s any comfort, Embry’s got Prinny wearing that absurd green cross everywhere, and he’s cheated the bank and bond investors out of a hundred thousand pounds. You’re the one who suspected him in the first place. Why did you, anyway?”
Sebastian drew a tight breath. Every inch of him wanted to explode into motion and anger and frustration and a thousand other things he didn’t care to put a name to. What was he supposed to tell Shay? That he’d suspected everyone, and Josefina especially, because he liked her? That for the first time in four years he’d desired a woman, wanted to be in her company, and that he’d made a choice so abysmally wrong that he’d endangered the standing of his family and of his country? And deepest down, of his heart?
“Melbourne?”
He shook himself. “No particular reason,” he lied. “And yes, I’ll proceed with caution. I know what’s at stake. No one else can know, Shay. No one. Not until I decide how to proceed.”
“You don’t have to stand alone.”
“I appreciate that.”
Except that he was alone. Again. And he had only himself to blame for it. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Josefina Embry owed him some damned answers. And she would bloody well provide them, at the time and place of his choosing.
Chapter 12
Josefina hurried downstairs as the pair of muddy coaches stopped at the front of the house. Her parents had made good time. Her mother emerged first. “Josefina, mi vida,” she exclaimed with a wide smile, holding her arms open for a hug.
It felt good to be back in a safe, unquestioning embrace. So much had happened in ten days’ time that she could scarcely believe it. “Welcome back, Mama. I missed you.”
“We missed you as well, Josefina,” her father boomed, grinning as he hugged both her and her mother. “You’ll never guess the progress we’ve made. Another fifty thousand pounds for Costa Habichuela.”
“That’s fantastic! Did you receive my letter?” Josefina asked, trailing him into the house as the queen took charge of the unloading of what looked to be a considerable number of purchases.
“I did. Magnificent work. As we left Edinburgh the bond sales there were even brisker than what you reported here. The Scots can always smell a good investment.”
He looked so pleased with himself that she hated to break his mood. But he needed to know that Melbourne had discovered the origins of the prospectus. Whatever the duke’s interest in her, she didn’t know how long he would remain silent.
“I arranged for a half dozen ships to be at our disposal in Edinburgh,” he went on, sending one of the maids for coffee and settling himself behind his borrowed desk. “They’ll be provisioned and ready to sail within the month.”
“A half dozen ships? What do we need with—”
“Settlers will need supplies when they arrive.” He pulled out a cigar and lit it on the desk lamp. “I want to meet the Duke of Harek,” he went on. “Have you sent for him?”
“He should be here within the hour.” A tremor of uneasiness ran through her as she took a seat opposite her father. “What settlers?”
“Your letter said people were practically begging to emigrate to Costa Habichuela. It’s the same in Scotland. I had Halloway print up some land sale forms.”
Josefina frowned. “Beg pardon?”
“With a million acres of fertile land at our disposal, why not give every Englishman the opportunity to own some of it, at three shillings an acre? In perpetuity, just like noblemen here.”
Her heart stopped. “What? But—”
“And with ships already hired, we can grant passage at a reasonable price, plus an additional amount per pound of their belongings. And of course some of them will want to transport livestock.” He scowled thoughtfully. “I’ll have Orrin make up a list with the individual expenses printed out, to go with the land sale certificates. Oh, and we’re selling hundred-acre lots, if anyone asks.”
“You aren’t—”
“If pressed, our land office can break some of the lots into ten-acre parcels.”
Josefina began to feel light-headed. “What land office?”
“I opened one in Edinburgh. And the one here opens tomorrow. Orrin hired a solicitor’s office to take care of the details while we were up north.” Finally he looked at her. “What are you frowning at?”
“Papa—father—there are things we’re never to speak about, even in private,” she said in a low voice, cautious despite the closed door. Colonel Branbury’s servants didn’t know anything more than the rest of London, and they meant to keep it that way.
“Then don’t speak of them. I’m also compiling a list of citizens we badly need to run the government and a rapidly expanding township. Bankers, blacksmiths, physicians, solicitors, map-makers, teachers—” He scooted a piece of paper over to her. “You probably know better than I. See if you can finish it in the next day or two, and we’ll post it in the London Times and at the land office.”
She looked from the long list of occupations back to her father as he sat at his ease, puffing on the cigar. “If this is a jest, it’s not amusing.”
“It’s not a jest.”
“But you can’t—”
He leaned forward. “Don’t you think it’s unfair that we would come asking for money and then refuse to allow anyone to join us in sharing the bounty of our new paradise? They’ll come anyway, rest assured. It’s in our own best interest to keep the influx orderly. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, at a price far better than they’ll find elsewhere.” The rey grinned again. “And the Costa Habichuela natives are friendly, and speak English, unlike those savages in the United States.”
“I know it would look odd if we didn’t offer people a chance to immigrate,” she hedged, fiddling with the corner of the paper he’d given her, “but isn’t that something we should do closer to the time of our departure?”
“Now is the time to strike. You should have seen the reception we received in Scotland. They covered the streets with rose petals. Interest in Costa Habichuela will never be greater than it is at this moment.”
Josefina took a shallow breath. “But settlers weren’t part of the plan.”
“They are now. Go put on your tiara before Harek arrives. I hope you’ve been wearing it to receive guests. We are royalty, and we need to act like it at all times.” He pushed to his feet, hands flat on the desk as he leaned forward to look down at her. “At all times.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” She stood, gave him a curtsy, and left the room.
Her throat constricted. Why had she never thought of this? Of course when people heard about a paradise some of them would wish a chance to reside there. Logically they had to be allowed to do so. Damnation. She had had such thoughts—worries—before, but now they felt…real. Mentally debating theories and letting her mind wander to pick apart cracks—if there were cracks—was one thing, but now it wasn’t a theory any longer. People would be sailing to Costa Habichuela.
She went to her bed chamber and found the tiara where Conchita kept it. As she sat at the dressing table and frowned into the mirror, her door opened.
“Here, let me,” her mother said with a smile, closing the door again and approaching to take the tiara from her.
“Did father tell you he opened a land office in Scotland, and that he’s opening another one here tomorrow?”
“Yes. I attended the first one, and we’re all to attend the second.” Carefully her mother set the crown into Josefina’s hair, then picked up the ivory comb to rearrange a few straying locks.
“Did you try to talk him out of it?”
“He didn’t consult me, mi ángel bonita. You know how he is.”
“But he’s going to send people to Costa Habic
huela.”
“With supplies. Even if San Saturus isn’t precisely what they expect, they can turn it into a beautiful capital city.”
“The money is one thing, but why press our luck?” Josefina countered at a whisper. Her father would be furious if he knew they were having this conversation, even just the two of them, and even in absolute privacy. “We’ve never seen Costa Habichuela, Mama.”
“You and your father have been working on this project for the past two years without rest. You know by now that he does nothing without good reason. Trust him, as he trusts you.” Her mother kissed Josefina’s cheek.
“I don’t doubt that he’ll be successful in finding settlers. It’s what happens afterward that…troubles me,” she returned.
“To others, we may exaggerate,” her mother said, straightening. “Among ourselves, we always speak the truth. If he says everything will be well, believe it.” She held out her hand. “Now tell me about the Duke of Harek. Is he as handsome as Lord Melbourne?”
Josefina followed her mother out the door. “He’s quite pleasant-looking.”
No man was as handsome as Melbourne. And her mother was wrong about one thing. Among themselves, they did lie. Because she knew that Sebastian Griffin knew the prospectus was fake, and that he suspected something more was afoot. And she’d told no one. And now abruptly she herself had a few questions about the wisdom of her father’s newest plans.
An hour later Josefina met Harek at the morning room doorway. “Your Grace, may I introduce you to His Majesty, Stephen Embry, Rey of Costa Habichuela, and Her Majesty, Queen Maria? Mother, Father, His Grace the Duke of Harek.”
Harek smiled his most charming smile, the expression lighting his green eyes. “I have several times asked Her Highness to call me Charles, and I request the same of Your Majesties.” He bowed. “I am very pleased finally to meet you.”
Her father stood. “Likewise, Charles.” They shook hands. “Thank you for coming to our assistance on such short notice. I have to admit, I was rather taken aback at Melbourne’s desertion.”
The duke’s smile faltered a little. “Ah. I don’t know Melbourne well, but he has been helpful in easing the transition. He offered us seats at the theater the other evening, and has invited all of us to join him at Vauxhall Gardens tomorrow night.”
“He said he simply had too many other duties to give us the amount of attention the liaison position required,” Josefina offered, somewhat surprised to hear herself lying yet again to her parents, and again on Melbourne’s behalf. In all likelihood he had some of the answers she wanted, though, and it wouldn’t do if she was forbidden to speak with him. Besides, she wanted to have sex with him again.
“Well, he handled his departure as a gentleman then, I suppose.” The rey put an arm across Harek’s shoulders. “Join me in the billiards room, Charles, and tell me about yourself.”
Harek glanced over his shoulder as he left the room. “My apologies, Queen Maria, Princess Josefina. Duty and billiards call.”
“He is pleasant to the eyes, Josefina,” her mother agreed as the two men headed up the stairs. “And on the ears. Well mannered, with a sense of humor, and a duke. Better for you perhaps than stone-faced Melbourne.”
“Perhaps,” Josefina agreed, picking out the most noncommittal word she could.
“Do you like Charles?”
She shrugged. “Well enough. He’s already made mention that he has no qualms about foreign travel. He’s only just returned from Canada, in fact.”
“Your father will convince him to offer for you, you know, if our duke hasn’t already decided to do so.”
“I know.”
And if she’d met Harek first, and Melbourne not at all, she would be perfectly content. And the order and circumstances of acquaintance didn’t actually matter, anyway, because Melbourne would never leave England. Her father had made a mistake, encouraging Prinny to select Sebastian as his representative. And for the first time she began to wonder whether her father wasn’t making several mistakes, now.
Sebastian sat up. He felt thick and groggy, and as he looked at the clock on the fireplace mantel in his bedchamber, it took a moment for the time to register. Twenty-one minutes past five. That didn’t make any sense, because they hadn’t arrived home until past three, and he knew he hadn’t fallen asleep until well after that.
Which would make it nearly half past five in the evening. Damnation. “Bailey!” he yelled.
The door lurched open and his valet half-stumbled into the room. “I’m here, Your Grace.”
Sebastian flung the sheets aside and stood. “Why the bloody hell didn’t you wake me?”
“Your brother, Lord Shay, said not to.” Bailey hurried to the wardrobe and returned with a shirt and trousers.
“This is not Shay’s house. It is my house.”
A small fist banged on his door. “Papa, are you decent?”
Rarely, it seemed. Stifling the thought, he finished buttoning his trousers. “Come in, Peep,” he called, pulling his shirt on over his head.
His daughter, in a lovely yellow silk gown that deepened the gray of her eyes, pranced into the room. “Did you sleep well?”
“Too well,” Sebastian replied, sending another glare in Bailey’s direction. “What have you done with yourself today, my angel?”
“I studied French, and I had to miss my pianoforte lessons because you were asleep, and Mrs. Beacham took me to the park, and Stanton asked if I knew the dinner menu because you were still asleep, and I didn’t, so I told him summer pease soup and rabbit fricassée because I like that, and so does Uncle Zachary.”
“Zachary likes any food that’s not moving,” Sebastian commented, allowing Bailey to help him with his waistcoat and cravat. “Is he eating with us?”
“Everyone is. Did you forget? You said it was because Aunt Caroline’s family is here, and if you got one dinner out of the way, perhaps they would leave you alone.”
“That’s not to be repeated, Penelope.”
“I know that,” she returned, disgust in her voice. “I have your confidence.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I have everyone’s confidence. I know so many things, it makes my head spin.”
And thankfully there were quite a few things she didn’t know. “I appreciate all of your efforts today as the lady of the house,” he said aloud, sitting at his dressing table to shave.
“I know you do. I’m going to make certain Cook has baked something chocolate for dessert.”
“A splendid idea. Will you send Stanton up here on your way?”
“Certainly.”
It was probably a good thing that Peep had come in and interrupted what would have become a furious rampage at being coddled. He’d lost most of a day on Josefina and whatever she was up to. In addition, the so-called rey was due back from Scotland today, and God knew what he’d been up to there.
“Your Grace, shall I send down for tea, or coffee?” Bailey asked, holding the bowl of shaving soap.
“No. I’m—”
Stanton scratched at the door and pushed it open. “Your Grace?”
“Have Merlin saddled. I’m going out for a short time.”
“Your guests will be arriving shortly.”
“I won’t be long.”
The butler bowed, pulling the door closed as he left the room. “I’ll see to it immediately.”
As soon as he finished shaving he headed downstairs. His stomach rumbled, but he ignored it. At the moment, hunger was the least of his worries. In the foyer Stanton handed over his riding gloves and hat and offered a greatcoat, which he declined.
“I’ll be back within the hour,” he decided. That would give him enough time to confront her, and not enough time for her to spin his anger into lust and arousal, which, damn it all, he was already thinking about.
“Your Grace, you should have Green accompany you,” Stanton said as he strode down the front step.
“I don’t need a wet-nurse,” Sebastian
shot back, swinging into the saddle.
“Of course not. But…a great many people rely on you, and you’re obviously angry, and you haven’t said where you’re going.”
Sebastian pulled Merlin to a stop. He couldn’t recall Stanton ever expressing his opinion so directly. And the butler had a point. Having a witness to a meeting with Josefina, though, even a discreet one, seemed at the moment both foolhardy and potentially dangerous. “I’ll be at Colonel Branbury’s house,” he said curtly. “Have Shay host if the guests arrive before I return.”
“Very good, Your Grace.”
Twenty minutes later he dismounted, handing Merlin off to a groom. “Leave him standing,” he said brusquely. “I won’t be long.”
As he reached the front door the butler pulled it open. “Good evening, Your Grace,” he intoned.
“I require a word with Princess Josefina,” Sebastian said crisply, stripping off his gloves.
“Her Highness isn’t in. If you would leave your card, I will inform her of your visit when she returns.”
Damnation. “The rey and Queen Maria, have they returned from Scotland?”
“They arrived this morning, Your Grace, but they’ve all gone for an early dinner with His Grace, Lord Harek.”
“And where might they be?”
“I wasn’t informed, Your Grace.”
“And after? Where will they be going after dinner?”
“I am not at liberty to discuss the royal family’s schedule, Your Grace.”
Sebastian eyed the butler. He could break the man and get the information he wanted within a minute, but the ramifications would be more harmful than the information helpful. It was one of the few times that being no one of consequence would have been useful.
“Very well,” he said curtly. “Please inform Her Highness that I called. I will wait to speak to her at Vauxhall tomorrow night.” He turned on his heel.
Not many people dared rebuff him, and he had to give a point or two to Branbury’s man for his loyalty. He didn’t appreciate being thwarted under any circumstances, and he badly wanted to track Josefina down. But the questions he had for her and her parents needed to be kept private until he had proof.
Sins of a Duke Page 15
