by Sue London
He gave a short laugh and held his ribs more tightly. “I’ll still be hurt when you get back. I can guarantee you won’t miss anything.”
She was reluctant to leave him to the care of the men, but there most likely couldn’t be a good resolution to this conflict. She followed Sabre and Jack to the morning room.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Gideon looked at his unexpected guest. “I’ll send for the doctor. Dibbs and the footmen can help you to your bedroom.”
“There’s no need for a doctor,” the young man insisted. “I’ll be fine.”
Pride, Gideon knew, could be a dangerous thing. And right now Mr. Rokiczana looked as though he had gone four unpleasant rounds with Gentleman Jackson.
“It pleases me to be a gracious host,” Gideon said. “I know that if I were in your condition I would want to retreat to a quiet bedroom with a bottle of the finest brandy. So let me have the satisfaction of providing that for you.”
“Gideon does have some of the finest brandy,” Charlie assured him. “I may claim to suffer a complaint just to receive a portion.”
“Don’t worry for me, gentlemen. I’ve had worse, I assure you.” The look Rokiczana gave Robert was nothing short of challenge. It would be best to head this off before it turned into something ugly.
“Forgive my manners, Mr. Rokiczana, but I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. You already know Robert. That gentleman is his brother Charles Bittlesworth. I am Gideon Wolfe, Earl of Harrington. And this is the Duke of Beloin.”
Mr. Rokiczana nodded to each of them in turn, adding murmured honoraries for Gideon and Quince. “My lord. Your grace.”
“Now that the pleasantries have been settled, will you go willingly with my butler, or force me to bodily carry you upstairs to ensure that my hospitality is received?”
That served to divert Mr. Rokiczana’s attention from Robert. To Gideon’s surprise, rather than remain challenging, the young man relaxed into a grin that must have hurt his split lip. “It would never do to stress one’s host so horribly. I thank you for your hospitality.” He followed Dibbs upstairs as though there had never been a contention.
Without asking, Charlie walked over to the liquor and poured himself two fingers of scotch, which he quickly downed. Gideon knew him well enough to know this meant Charlie was stressed. The younger man poured another before waving his hand at the collection of bottles. “Shouldn’t you be offering something to your guests, my lord?”
Charlie drinking and sounding acidic? This could go badly very fast. He would never show his temper in front of the ladies, but with sufficient drink just now he would start a fight, most likely with his brother. Gideon took over the liquor cabinet. He didn’t ask for drink orders as he knew each man’s preference.
“This has been a more interesting day than expected,” the earl ventured, handing Quince his drink first.
Charlie was leaning against the wall, finishing his second drink. “Who in the hell is he?”
Gideon shrugged, “Her husband.”
Robert accepted his drink and also remained standing. The tension in the room was still palpable. “Her informant,” he said softly. “I’ll find out whether the marriage is legal.”
Charlie stood up straight again. “George has been working for you?” he hissed.
“She’s an excellent agent. Mr. Rokiczana could be an excellent agent, as well.”
“Robert!” Charlie looked murderous. Gideon was glad that all the younger man did was throw his glass against the wall and stomp out of the room. Hopefully with a bit of time he would work off his anger.
Robert rubbed his forehead. “He wasn’t going to break. After a time you get a sense of that. He wasn’t going to break and, if George is to be believed, which after the investment I’ve made in her she bloody well better be, the only thing he had to hide was his marriage to her.”
Quince finally spoke. “What do you know of Mr. Rokiczana?”
“He was a minor figure in the Prussian delegation to the Congress of Vienna. My understanding is that he helped us by revealing the Russian-Prussian plans for central Europe, specifically Poland and Saxon. He had a satchel of papers with him, all pertaining to Poland. He most likely doesn’t know more about this letter. But someone must.”
“Robert,” Gideon said soberly, “you need rest.”
The sound Robert made was too dry and bitter to be laughter. “On the heels of two wars and the largest diplomatic reorganization of Europe in over two hundred years is no time to be resting. Especially when we now know that what is left of the Four is specifically undermining British shipping safety.”
“You’re right,” Quince said quietly. “I shouldn’t have let him go.”
Robert closed his eyes as though in pain. “Mercy isn’t a sin. But used indiscriminately, it can be bloody inconvenient.”
“It’s not a mistake I plan to make again. How can I help?”
“I’m not sure yet, but it’s good to know I can call on you if needed.”
Quince nodded. “Of course.”
Robert and Quince had both been studying their drinks rather than finishing them off.
Gideon had already finished his. “Shall we ask the ladies if they’re ready for their repast?”
Quince smiled. “If Sabre were ready she would have already informed us.”
“I’m hungry,” Gideon grumbled.
*
George watched Sabre stride to the middle of the room and spin around, feet braced apart, hands on hips. Oh yes, this would be pleasant. Surprisingly, the young woman didn’t immediately start upbraiding George.
Instead, Jack slipped up and set a gentle hand on George’s arm. “Are you all right?” she asked softly.
Oh God, was Jack’s missishness going to rule the day? George would rather deal with one of Sabre’s indignant tirades. “Of course I’m all right. Why wouldn’t I be all right?”
Jack and Sabre exchanged sardonic glances and Sabre finally spoke. “Why are you working for Robert and I’m not?”
“We’re not,” Jack corrected.
George tried to shrug nonchalantly but the effect was ruined when her side flared in pain and she hunched over hissing instead.
“Georgie!” That was Jack, of course, now leaning over and patting her friend’s back.
“Stop it, Jack. I’ll be fine.”
Sabre blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re not fine and you’re not answering my question, either. Now sit down and explain what’s going on.”
George settled into a chair, worried that if she sat on a sofa then Jack would just sit next to her and flutter over her some more. “There’s not much I can tell. Why does Robert do anything?”
Sabre sat and raised her brow. “He usually has at least five reasons and I’d wager you know at least one of them.”
There she sat, staring at her two dearest friends. Friends who seemed confused and upset.
“I can’t really tell you anything,” she said quietly.
Sabre looked at her shrewdly. “You mean you won’t tell us anything. You won’t tell the Haberdashers.”
George shook her head. “It’s not up to me.”
Sabre rose again. “When Robert enlisted you he had to know that you only had two choices. Loyalty or betrayal. Why he chose someone capable of betrayal I will never understand.”
Although she had been expecting something of the like, Sabre’s words stabbed at George viciously. “What would you have me do?”
Sabre stopped short. “I would have you not betray a friendship that I have held as sacred for more than a decade. Really, George, how could you?”
“I’m serving the Crown!”
Sabre’s expression cleared. That could be a good sign or a bad sign. Much like her brother, Sabrina Bittlesworth was at heart a rather cold person. “You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you? Secret missions and secret marriages.”
“Proud of my work? A bit, perhaps.”
“You’re not serving the Crown,
George. You’re serving yourself. Everything else is an honorable excuse.”
“Sabre!” Jack intervened. “You’ve no idea what she’s been doing.”
“Exactly! I don’t have any idea. She won’t tell us.”
George said quietly, “If you were in my position, you would do the same.”
“Would I? You really think so? I have principles, George. I assume you haven’t been in Scotland this whole time. I would never lie to Haberdashers about where I was, what I was doing.”
“Sabre, that’s enough,” Jack admonished.
“How can you defend her, Jack?”
“She’s a Haberdasher.”
“Is she really? I thought the Haberdashers had a code. Had loyalty to one another. It’s bad enough that she went off to do God knows what for Robert without us. She did it without telling us.”
“What would you do for your duke?” George asked. “Would you lie for him? Hide things from us for him?”
“Are you trying to say that you were in love with Robert, that’s why you did this?”
“Of course not. I’m saying that you’re being intractable because your principles haven’t been tested.”
“Are you in love with your husband? Are you warning us that you’ll betray us for him, too?”
George looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I’m saying that there are often conflicting priorities, conflicting loyalties. I would trust you, Sabre, to choose the path that least hurt those you cared about.”
“You’ve caught yourself neatly in your own logic there, Georgie. You knew this would hurt Jack and I when we found out, proving that you cared about yourself more than either of us.” Sabre turned to Jack. “Thank you very much for your invitation to nuncheon, but Quince and I really must be getting on to Belle Fleur. I’ll send you a note when we return.”
Jack nodded. “Of course.”
The two young women exchanged hugs as George stayed in her seat, staring blankly at her muslin covered knees. Once Sabre left the room, Jack knelt on the floor in front of George, taking her hands.
“Don’t worry so much, she’ll come around.”
George’s laugh was hollow. “I haven’t been gone so long that I’ve forgotten how Sabre can be.”
“Yes, I’m relying on Quince.”
George finally looked her friend in the eye. Jack’s expression was one of empathy, concern, and wry amusement. “I should trust that the duke will defend me? He doesn’t even know me.”
“True. But he knows Sabre and he understands friendship. I can’t imagine him letting Sabre walk away from our history.”
“Letting? No one ‘lets’ Sabre do anything.”
Jack chuckled. “You’ll see. They’re rather evenly matched, something that may not be obvious on first glance.”
“No, that doesn’t seem obvious at all. He’s barely said a thing.”
“Hm. Enough about the Duke and Duchess of Beloin. Why don’t you tell me about your husband?”
Tell Jack about Casimir? What on earth could she say? “He’s… He’s very charming.”
“I suppose he would have to be in order to distract you from your tendre for Charlie.”
“I don’t have a tendre for Charlie.”
“I see.”
“All right, I can admit now that I thought I did. But I didn’t. Not really.”
Jack brightened. “Oh. This is a love match for you, then?”
George bit her lip. “I wouldn’t say that exactly.”
“What would you say?”
“I-I’m not sure. Although perhaps I should check on him.”
Jack rose to her feet. “Of course. I’ll have a tray sent up for you both.” Her friend rang for a servant and gave directions for a light meal to be sent up.
George thanked her and ascended the stairs to the guest rooms.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Casimir hurt rather a lot. When he returned to the townhouse where he left her, demanding to know where ‘George’ was, he hadn’t quite expected the reception he had received. Not taken unawares this time, their three against one odds coupled with Casimir’s reluctance to leave until he found his wife had ended with him tied to a chair. Then the interrogation began. Interrogation facilitated by a beating. Bobbins had been understandably upset by their first encounter and followed his employers instruction’s with an unmistakable relish. Casimir was now quite sure that the man had been a fighter. And that whoever these people were, they were professionals at this. So much pain, yet no permanent damage to his knowledge. Very little visible damage, just the split lip which he had gotten while they were wrestling him down. But pain, oh yes, they knew how to deal that. It hurt to take more than the shallowest breath, even after the doctor had taped up his ribs. But at least this bed was comfortable. If he could stay here for a few days he might feel almost normal again.
The door opened. Gina. George.
“Hullo,” he said quietly.
She shut the door behind her and came over to sit on the side of the bed, taking his hand in her own. “How do you feel?”
He gave a wheezing breath that was the closest he dare come to a laugh. “As though I’ve been beaten for the last twelve hours? How do you feel?”
Her lower lip quivered but she gave him a wan smile. “As though I’ve been shot.”
“Aren’t we a pair? Perhaps we should have stayed in Vienna.”
She nodded. “Perhaps we should have.” Her expression became quite grave and she stared down at their joined hands. “I’m sorry Robert hurt you,” she whispered.
That wheezing breath that was almost a laugh again. “Not nearly as sorry as I am.”
Her lower lip trembled again, then he saw silent tears running down her cheeks.
“Ukochany, don’t cry for me. I’ll heal.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s either cry from the frustration or kill Robert.”
His reaction was closer to a chuckle and his ribs protested. “As I said, don’t cry.”
That surprised a laugh from her and she leaned down to kiss his cheek, the corner of his mouth. When he tried to kiss her she pulled back, laying a finger on his lips. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Oh good, I’ve had enough of that for one day.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Did the doctor give you any laudanum?”
“I didn’t want to take it.”
“It would help you sleep.”
“Then I would be that much easier to catch and beat upon. It may be irrational, but I would prefer not.”
“Why didn’t you tell Robert you were my husband?”
“You said you didn’t want to tell anyone yet.”
“It might have saved you hours at his hands.”
He gave the barest of shrugs. “You said you didn’t want to tell anyone yet.”
Her tears started again, but they were interrupted by a knock at the door.
*
George wiped her cheeks and stood as she called, “Come in.”
A Harrington footman and maid came in with trays of food.
“If you could set them on the bed, please,” she directed. The low table by the window was too far away and she didn’t want Casimir to move. Once the staff had bowed out she settled on the side of the bed opposite her husband, organizing the trays in front of her to her satisfaction. “Tea?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
She fixed his cup with her usual efficiency, but could see her hand was shaking. Perhaps she would take the laudanum herself. It was as though everything she did not want to have happen had happened. Sabre and Robert were furious with her. Jack was worried about her, which honestly could be just as annoying. And Casimir was hurt.
“Do you need any more pillows?” she asked.
He shook his head and took the cup from her. “I’m fine. What else do we have here?”
“It looks like Sabre’s nuncheon.”
“All these languages I know, and you pick words that aren’t in
any of them.”
“Nuncheon. Earlier and a bit heartier than afternoon tea.” She tore one of the dainty watercress sandwiches in half and fed him the morsel. They made their way through the sandwiches, biscuits, and fruit without saying a word, but his gaze on her made it all seem intimate. Intense. If they weren’t both hurt she would try to seduce him. If he weren’t hurt she would at least lie atop him and enjoy the warmth and solidity of him. Her husband. He had come back for her. He had come back and hadn’t revealed their relationship because he wasn’t sure she wanted him to. It was foolish, but also brave and endearing. She loved him so much that just thinking about it gave her a sharp pain in her heart. Certainly he loved her as well if he were willing to stand up to Robert over such a silly secret.
She moved the trays to the table and curled up next to him on the bed, her head on his shoulder and his hand clasped between both of her own. If Sabre didn’t understand conflicting loyalties then she didn’t love her duke at all.
*
Gideon was relieved to finally be eating, even if it was sans guests, but his wife was subdued from the earlier conflict. She stared at her plate as she shredded her sandwich into tiny bits. He knew that she would eventually bring up what was bothering her and it turned out he didn’t have long to wait.
“What do you think of George’s husband?”
“We’re barely acquainted.”
She gave him one of her sardonic stares from under her lashes. “Please. I’ve seen you commit thousands of pounds in business deals on shorter acquaintance.”
“Oh, you mean think of it like a business deal?” He gave her a teasing grin and sat back with his glass of wine. “Well then, yes, I suppose I would risk at least a few thousand pounds on Mr. Rokiczana. He was rash to challenge Robert, but wise enough not to extend that attitude to the rest of us. A man can be forgiven for wanting to protect his wife, I should think.”
“He was protecting her?”
“He wouldn’t tell Robert anything, including the fact that he was married to her? Yes, most likely he thought he was protecting her.”
