“Anna, I am certain I mentioned it to you when we planned these essays.” He stepped behind his desk and waited for her to be seated across from him. “And I repeated my concern over mentioning him by name this early in our campaign.”
It had been Nathaniel who had first named it “their campaign” and it had appealed to her sense of organization and judgment. Theirs was a campaign. Not a military battle certainly, but a moral and economic one.
She thought on his words and those expressed when they reviewed the essay. “Will Lord Treybourne retaliate?”
Anna smoothed the wrinkles of her forest-green gown over her lap and tugged off her gloves. Tucking them inside her reticule, she laid it on his desk, on top of one of the numerous piles of magazines, newspapers, leaflets and other printed matter. When he did not answer, she looked up and met his gaze.
His worried gaze.
“Financially?” she asked.
“I think not,” Nathaniel said. “The Lansdale family seat is in Dursby in western England. They own properties all over England, even a few here in Scotland. We have nothing financially appealing to tempt them to attack. But…”
“But?” Nathaniel was not usually an alarmist in matters of business, one of the very reasons she valued his input.
“I do not remember Lord Treybourne as such a stickler for propriety when we were at the university. His position surprised me and still does. This makes him unpredictable to me now.”
“Ah, life at the university! I have read that even divinity students succumb to the temptations of that life and all it offers. And young men are susceptible to many pressures,” she said, allowing a slight smile to curve her lips. “The Marquess of Dursby has long supported Tory positions. It is natural, I think, for his son to do so as well.”
“The Prince Regent did not always agree with his father,” Nathaniel countered. “Anna, I think you must be reading all manner of improper material if the subject is such an inflammatory one as the occupations of young men at university.”
“But when forced to it by the economics of his lifestyle, he certainly discarded his long-held beliefs and conformed,” she replied. “And my reading material, other than the Gazette, is none of your concern.”
Although, at first, a frown dug deep angles in his forehead and drew his eyebrows together and his eyes turned a darker shade of green, Nathaniel smiled at her. “If you would accept my offer of marriage, it would be.”
He had pulled their two separate topics of conversation into one and brought it to an abrupt halt. But, it was the true affection in his eyes that caused her stomach do a flip and her heart to beat a bit faster. Anna looked away to try to calm her rapidly beating heart, after hearing such a declaration.
“There is no new ground to turn on that matter, Nathaniel. You know that you and Clarinda are my dearest friends and held in the highest regard. Marriage, although desirable and necessary for most women my age, is something I simply am not seeking.”
She thought him long ago disabused of the idea of marriage between them, so this new request surprised her. Was he truly worried that Lord Treybourne or his father, the marquess, would seek to destroy their fledging publication over this disagreement of position and politics? Nathaniel’s expression gave her a moment of tension before he nodded his head and smiled.
“I think you simply avoid the controls that would be in place if you marry—your husband would certainly curtail your work here and at the school. And control your money,” he added. “That is what I think you fear the most.”
He most likely had no idea of how close to the truth his words were.
Anna had struggled for years to keep her family together after her father’s death and during her mother’s illness. Her own education at the fashionable Dorchester School for Girls outside Edinburgh made it possible for her to support them through those difficult years. Then, with her mother’s death and an unexpected, though modest, inheritance, she was able to invest a portion of it in Nathaniel’s dream—a monthly magazine. Now, the funds from their increasingly successful endeavor supported both of them, as well as several charities for the poor.
“Shall we return to the topic that brought us here this morning, Nathaniel?” He seemed to have lost the trail of the conversation so she refreshed his memory. “Lord Treybourne,” she repeated the name of A. J. Goodfellow’s adversary. “Are you overly concerned about his reaction to the essay? Or just worrying, as is your custom when each new issue is published?”
“I fear something of both, Anna. The Trey I knew at school was always direct about his displeasure. If he believes I—we, that is—have crossed a line with this, I think he will contact me directly about it. As to the new issue, I am pleased to tell you that our subscription demand has risen more than ten percent over the last month.”
She quickly calculated how much that would be, after the additional expenses, and smiled. “That is excellent news!”
“I have the figures here for you to review at your convenience,” he offered.
“With your assurances, there is no need for me to do that.” She did not doubt his honesty, just his willingness to see their plan, their campaign, through. Anna understood that their motivations for investing in the publication were completely different, but she also realized early on that they could both accomplish their own aims together.
“Nathaniel, I do think you should go to London.”
He seemed startled by her change in topic again and the frown said so. “You do? But Clarinda is coming to visit next week. And Robert.”
Anna stood and walked to the window, peering through it to observe the activity on the very busy corner outside the offices. Nathaniel politely rose as well. She waved him back to his seat and stared out as she organized her thoughts.
“I do not think you must accomplish this trip in haste. Truly I think that waiting until after Clarinda returns home is the best timing. Lord Treybourne will be busy this next week trying to frame his response to Mr. Goodfellow’s address. You should not appear too overly concerned with his reaction, but I suspect it would be best to meet him at a time advantageous to you. One when you can speak of gentlemanly subjects and leave when you have made your point.”
Nathaniel laughed at her words. “Gentlemanly subjects, eh? Will you give me a list and the point I must make as well?”
“You tease me now, Nathaniel. I trust you to handle Lord Treybourne and his inflated ego and opinion of himself.”
To her consternation, he laughed harder and louder, crossing his arms over his waist, until tears flowed down his cheeks.
“Oh, Anna,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You are so comfortable with your ways and your attitudes that you have no idea of what faces you if the Earl of Treybourne takes the bait. When you teach, your students listen because of your experience and expertise. When you advise me on publishing matters, I heed your words because I know you and trust you. But, Lord Treybourne, especially if his father the marquess is involved, will be the most formidable adversary you have faced.”
Anna felt her spine stiffen at his words. Not specifically an insult, they bordered closely upon an affront to her. Being called a bluestocking was no new matter to her. Indeed, it kept many undesirable acquaintances at bay and many unwanted inquiries unasked and unanswered, so she relished the label for the freedom it granted her. And, she was not embarrassed by her abilities or education. They had served her well and saved her family, as well as countless others, from a life of dismal and unrelenting poverty and its dangers.
Nathaniel rose now and approached where she stood, taking her hand in his. “I suspect that if you ever face Lord Treybourne in the flesh, you might begin to believe that marriage to me is the lesser of two evils.”
“Since, dear Nathaniel, you will take care of facing down the devil, I mean the earl, in London, I will worry not over the possibility of it.” Anna slid her hand from his and patted his. “It is part of the appeal, of course, of our unorthodox arrangement.”
> He looked as though he would argue or add to his warning, but he stepped back to allow her to pass. Dawdling here without purpose when others waited on her arrival was rude and not to be excused without good reason, so Anna reached for her reticule and walked past him.
“And A. J. Goodfellow?”
“A. J. Goodfellow will continue to chip away at the hardness of society regarding the poor and unfortunate.”
“So, the arrangements remain the same?” Nathaniel asked, as though there were some measure of doubt in the situation.
“I do not think there should be any changes at this point. We should stay the course,” Anna offered, waiting to hear his decision. They faced this each month since A. J. Goodfellow had delivered the first essay to the magazine. And each time, she held her breath, hoping that Nathaniel would not lose heart or courage in their work. Anna distracted herself while waiting for his answer by putting on her bonnet and gloves.
“Stay the course,” he repeated, with a nod.
She let out her breath and turned the door’s knob to open it. “Well then, I bid you a good day, Mr. Hobbs-Smith.”
“And good day to you, Miss Fairchild.”
Their feigned formality was for the benefit of any strangers or visitors in the outer office, for both clerks and Nathaniel’s secretary knew that they were well-acquainted. They might not know the nature or extent of that acquaintance, and most likely were under the misapprehension of some romantic involvement, but she and Nathaniel did not hide their friendship nor most of their working relationship while in the office.
The men employed there did not, however, know that the woman now being assisted into her pelisse and being escorted out of the offices by Mr. Hobbs-Smith was none other than the political essayist A. J. Goodfellow.
Chapter Three
“Lady Simon is thrilled by her success this evening.”
“If you mean the excessive heat, too many people and late hour, I would have to agree with you, Ellerton.”
David tried to make his way to the edge of the ballroom where there appeared to be more room to move…and to escape this crush. His third ball this week, this one was no less crowded, heated or unpleasant. But it was a somewhat safe escape from the topic of his predicament.
“You are too modest, Trey. You are the jewel in her crown.”
Coming from anyone else in the ton, the words would have been mindless simpering. From Ellerton, however, they were more of a warning. And it was a warning too late in coming, for their hostess was in pursuit and caught them just as he reached the outskirts of the crowd.
“Lord Treybourne! Surely you are not departing so early?”
Lady Simon wore a dress clearly meant for a younger, more lithesome figure of womanhood, one that did not compliment her voluptuous curves. Instead it pointed out the glaring changes that older women sometimes experienced. She leaned forward, displaying what she must have assumed was a pleasant view of her décolletage. “My niece, Catherine, had hoped for a dance.”
She nodded in the direction of the dancing couples, and those not dancing. A young woman whom he’d not met stood, glanced his way and fluttered her eyelashes at an alarming rate.
“I fear I must, Lady Simon,” he said, taking her hand to keep her back at a decent distance. “Please introduce me to your niece at our next encounter. I have other commitments I must keep now,” he whispered in a conspiratorial tone as he threw a glance at Ellerton.
“Oh!” she murmured in a disappointed tone. “Oh!” she uttered in a now more excited one. Tapping on his arm with her closed fan, she nodded. “Masculine pursuits, sir? Ones best not spoken of in mixed company, I suspect?” In spite of her words, her heaving bosom spoke of her desire for him to elaborate on just what their plans were. Her niece was now forgotten in her efforts to discover his plans.
“I thank you for your kind invitation to this evening’s fete, madam. Now, I will bid you a good evening.”
He peeled his fingers from hers and backed far enough away to bow politely. Luckily for him, Anthony was familiar with the situation and was already heading in the direction of the door. David followed quickly, nodding at several people as he passed briskly through the crowd and toward freedom.
The hair on the back of his neck was rising when he stopped momentarily to take his cloak from a footman and he looked around the entryway to see if he were being watched. Not wanting to take the chance of being stopped again, David tossed the cloak over his arm and strode through the door and down the steps to where Ellerton waited on the sidewalk.
He reached in his pocket and drew out several coins. Handing them to the nearest footman, he instructed, “Find my coachman and tell him to catch up with us. We will be walking in that direction.”
It was the only practical thing to do since the line of coaches stretched several blocks away from the Simon mansion. His club was too far to walk to from this neighborhood on the edges of the more fashionable ones, but they could wait for an hour or more for his coach to approach in the lines. Once away from the crowd and the possibility of being overheard, he broached the subject with Ellerton.
“I am thinking of a short trip to our hunting box in the Cairngorms, Anthony. Would you care to join me?”
“Is Commons done its sessions?”
“I have been told we will not be called back until the first or second of October. Surely enough time to enjoy the pleasures of shooting and hunting.”
Ellerton did not respond immediately and, indeed, said nothing, even as the Dursby coach approached in the street. David gave instructions to the coachman as they climbed in and sat on opposite sides. The coach rolled down the street for a few minutes before David decided to pursue an answer.
“My father will not be there, if that’s what you’re waiting to hear. He is escorting my mother to the estate in Nottinghamshire.”
“That was a concern, Trey. The marquess does not care for my company.”
“He cares even less for mine, so we are safe for the moment.”
“Ah, not carrying the party standard high enough?”
“Why is it that you do not take this seriously?” Their families were both Tory supporters, yet Ellerton’s father did not involve himself in the power maneuvers.
“My father has long been more interested in his lands than speeches. Overseeing the latest innovations in his crops gives him great joy and fulfillment.”
David could understand the draw of other facets of life away from the morass of backroom meetings and grabbing for power of politics. Perchance Ellerton’s father had the right of it? Realizing he’d still not received an answer about the trip, he pressed again.
“I plan on leaving on Thursday morning. You can send word if you will join me.”
Anthony stared out the coach window at the passing houses and city blocks for a few moments before answering. “I have never seen you run from something before, Trey.”
He chose to deliberately misunderstand. “The season is over and only those few who have not snagged a husband are still being shown around town. After five balls, four salons and six dinners in this last fortnight, I have certainly fulfilled any possible obligations as a bachelor and target of marriage-minded mothers of the ton.”
“So this is about taking a respite from the rigors of society and not about avoiding the unpleasant topic of a certain publication?”
He could continue to dissemble to avoid the admission of his weakness, but Anthony was one of few people in the world whom he could trust.
“Actually, instead of running away, I am running to the problem.”
“At your hunting lodge?” Anthony eyed him suspiciously. Shifting on his bench, he frowned and then shook his head. “Of course, it is no coincidence that our path to your property in the mountains goes right through Edinburgh.”
“Unless the roads have changed and I have not been advised of such an occurrence.”
Anthony was not addle-pated and he immediately understood…and laughed out loud as he did
.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, eh?”
“Although I battle in the light of day, my opponent chooses to hide in anonymity. A situation I thought to change.”
“Now that’s the Trey I remember! Never one to avoid a good fight.” Anthony reached over and smacked him on the shoulder. “And I am honored that you asked me to accompany you, as your ‘second,’ so to speak.”
David smiled at him, but his words made him cringe. He had hoped to keep this a discreet visit to Edinburgh to discover more about the elusive Mr. A. J. Goodfellow. His man-of-business had been unsuccessful in his efforts to find out the man’s background or family or even his whereabouts.
Now, David would use his own connections—his school friend owned and published the Scottish Monthly Gazette and would surely be able to help him uncover this writer. Well, Nathaniel might be able, but David was certain that it would take more convincing on his part for his friend to reveal the information.
“I would consider this a quiet reconnaissance mission of sorts, if you please. My man has already made most of the inquiries, I thought only to follow up on several more promising leads.”
Anthony sat up straight and put a finger over his lips. “I can be as quiet as the grave, Trey. You can count on my discretion in this matter.”
Deciding not to discuss the arrangements or his plans further now, he nodded his acceptance and turned his face toward the windows. He had much to do in the two days before he left town.
He’d written his response to the inflammatory article and it would be delivered to the publisher on Thursday. With the publishing schedule as it was, his essay would arrive to readers while he was in Edinburgh. The best time to observe Nathaniel and his allies and their reaction to it. The best time to flush out the elusive Mr. Goodfellow.
The coach arrived at his club on St. James, and as they climbed out, David was making lists of tasks to be completed before he could leave London.
Engrossed in her review of the newest textbook she’d chosen to use to teach reading at the school, the knock surprised her. Before Anna could call out, the door of Nathaniel’s office opened and a stranger entered. She did not see his face as he turned momentarily to close the door, but his fine clothing spoke of money and his bearing of power. He was as surprised as she must have been at finding an unexpected person in place of the one they sought. She pulled some papers over the book and then rose and walked around Nathaniel’s desk to meet him.
The Earl's Secret Page 2
