UNCOMMON DUKE, AN

by BENSON, LAURIE

  He focused his attention back to the interrogation room. It appeared some of the candles had gone out and he squinted to adjust to the lower light. Colonel Collingsworth and Mr Donaldson were staring at one another in silent communication and Manning’s eyes shifted between the two men while he chewed his lip.

  Finally, Mr Donaldson cleared his throat. ‘What information did Lady Abernathy give you?’

  Manning’s right leg bounced rapidly. ‘She told me of the Prince Regent’s trip to Brighton on the fourth.’

  ‘I see. And did you forward this by a note left at Hatchard’s?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And the Duchess of Winterbourne, what information has she provided you with?’

  Both of Manning’s legs were bouncing now as he rubbed the back of his neck. ‘She told me of a trip she was taking with him to visit a Mr Owen to purchase a painting by Titian, and today I heard about his plans to attend Lord and Lady Nettleford’s ball.’

  Both Donaldson and the Colonel turned to the wall hiding Gabriel and Andrew. If Gabriel didn’t know any better, he would have thought they could see him rubbing his hands on his thighs. The smooth buckskin helped dry his sweaty palms.

  Mr Donaldson leaned forward. ‘And this information the Duchess of Winterbourne provided you with, what did you do with it?’

  ‘I wrote the information down and placed it in the book at Hatchard’s.’

  ‘Did these women who provided you with information know you would be forwarding it to someone else?’

  ‘No. No. Of course not.’

  ‘You are certain they were not part of this?’

  ‘Yes. I’m certain.’

  ‘Did you ever discuss harming the Prince Regent in any way with Lady Abernathy or the Duchess of Winterbourne?’

  Manning’s eyes widened. ‘No. Lady Abernathy is the gentlest of souls and Lady Winterbourne looks upon the Prince Regent like a father. Neither could ever consciously hurt him. And I have no desire to see him harmed. I told you I had no knowledge what was to be done with the information. I just wanted to protect my son.’

  ‘Who takes this information you leave?’

  ‘I do not know. I was told to place the information on page eighty-nine in the book and leave.’

  ‘And you never remained, out of sight, to see who comes to collect it?’

  ‘No, I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.’

  Mr Donaldson turned to Colonel Collingsworth. ‘I have no further questions. Do you?’

  Colonel Collingsworth shook his head.

  ‘Very well, then. You will remain in Colonel Collingsworth’s custody until we determine if you will stand trial.’

  Manning squeaked. ‘But I told you I had no knowledge of a plan to murder the Prince Regent.’

  Mr Donaldson stood and turned towards the door. ‘Then you should have no problem convincing a jury of that should that be your fate.’

  Falling back in his chair, Gabriel rubbed his eyes. He could breathe again.

  ‘You’re one lucky devil,’ Andrew said, standing up and stretching. ‘That could have ended very differently. Do you think he was telling the truth? About Olivia?’

  ‘I do.’ He felt it in his bones. And Manning was right, Prinny was like a father to Olivia. Guilt ate away at him that he had even considered she would want to see the man dead. It was disturbing to know the man on the other side of the wall understood his wife better than he did.

  Andrew opened his mouth to speak, as Mr Donaldson stormed into the room, pointing an accusing finger at Gabriel. ‘Dem you. You knew she would be named.’

  Gabriel stood, preferring to face Mr Donaldson at eye level. ‘She had nothing to do with the attempt on Prince George’s life.’

  ‘She bloody well did! Your wife’s information was used to determine where he would be the day he was shot at.’

  ‘My wife gossiped to an artist while he was painting her portrait to pass the time. She had no notion he would take that information and give it to someone intending to harm our sovereign. You heard him.’

  ‘And how can you be so sure? Surely you do not expect me to believe that she discussed this with you over the breakfast table? The two of you barely speak to one another.’

  The state of his marriage was common knowledge. While veiled comments in the past had annoyed Gabriel, more because he considered his private life his business and no one else’s, this time he battled with himself to keep his right fist from crashing into Donaldson’s jaw.

  Just as he was about to inform the man that he could go to hell, Andrew stepped up to his side. ‘I am certain he was telling the truth. In fact, the Duchess of Winterbourne told me about her conversation with the artist,’ he said, not even glancing at Gabriel.

  ‘Why would she have told you?’

  ‘Because I asked her.’

  ‘You expect me to believe this?’

  Andrew raised his chin and moved his hands behind his back. ‘You have my word as a gentleman.’

  Gabriel glanced up, expecting lighting to strike Andrew through the roof of the house.

  ‘You have had no time to question her since he was apprehended,’ Mr Donaldson said, eyeing Andrew sceptically.

  ‘We discussed her portrait session recently over dinner. I enquired how she could sit for someone for days and not grow bored. She said their conversations helped to pass the time and she gave me examples of what they discuss.’

  ‘She still may have been aware this information would be passed on.’

  As far as Gabriel knew, Mr Donaldson had never spoken to Olivia. He knew nothing of who she was and yet he thought nothing of questioning her character. His stomach turned as he realised he’d had the same thoughts about her less than an hour ago.

  Gabriel never used his height and muscular form to intimidate men. He had never needed to. His title had been enough—until now. Now, he would use whatever means to deter Mr Donaldson from pursuing any suspicions about Olivia. ‘My wife is the embodiment of all that is good. I will not have you besmirch her character. If I thought she was involved in any of this, do you honestly believe I would have you here to question that man?’

  It appeared Mr Donaldson was suddenly at a loss for words.

  Gabriel needed to return home and sort out his jumbled thoughts. He knew he had been right to pay attention to the facts that pointed to Olivia. However, he now began to realise she was probably the last person in London who would want to harm the King or Regent. And it hadn’t escaped his notice he had been more worried for her facing the gallows than himself. He had much to consider—but there was one thing he needed to do first.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hanover Square was nearly deserted at this late hour of the evening—or rather early morning if one was to be exact. However, one building stood like a beacon with the glow of candlelight in one of the upper windows. Thankfully for Gabriel it was not the building he needed to break into.

  As Andrew stood guard, Gabriel crouched before the front door. Squinting in the dim light, he pressed two metal pins into the lock and jiggled them.

  ‘Are you certain you do not wish to have me give it a go?’ Andrew asked over his shoulder.

  ‘I almost have it.’

  ‘Do you even recall how it’s done? I cannot imagine you’ve had a need to do that for quite some time.’

  How he wished he could go back to a time when he was not the kind of man who would pick the locks of his wife’s possessions—to a time when he had no idea of the horrors of betrayal. What would his life be like now if he had never gone to his uncle for advice?

  A satisfying click broke the silence. Slowly he turned the handle of the door to the building that housed Manning’s studio. Hopefully the man’s landlord was a heavy sleeper. The last thing he needed was to have t
o explain his presence in the house.

  He pulled Andrew inside the darkened hallway by the sleeve. Faint streaks of moonlight from the transom over the door lit their way to the staircase. They took the steps gingerly, hoping to avoid potential squeaks. When they finally reached the third floor, both Gabriel and Andrew took a deep breath.

  With all the practice he’d had recently, this time it only took Gabriel two tries to pick the lock. Moonlight flooded into the studio from the large windows, making it easy to navigate the large room.

  ‘What exactly is it you believe we will find?’ Andrew whispered.

  Gabriel’s gaze landed on the easel, draped with a white cloth. That was what he had been hoping to find. ‘We are looking for anything that might prove he was blackmailed.’

  ‘But we agreed he was telling the truth. Why are you questioning it now?’

  ‘It’s prudent to be certain.’

  Andrew studied him carefully. ‘How do you propose we divide and conquer?’

  ‘I’ll search out here. There is another room behind that screen. See what you can find.’

  Gabriel waited until Andrew was in the next room before he removed the knife from his boot and uncovered the painting of Olivia. Most people would never know it was the Duchess of Winterbourne reclining on the divan—but he would. He would not leave it here unattended. Should Manning be executed or transported, who knew what would become of this painting? He needed to bring it home. He needed to protect her reputation. It was the least he could do after today.

  With a resolved breath he sliced the canvas from the frame, rolled it up and secured it with a strip of black ribbon.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Andrew asked from the doorway.

  ‘It’s of no concern of yours. Did you find anything?’

  ‘Amazingly, I did not. Have you even begun your search or have you spent all this time taking Olivia’s portrait?’

  ‘What do you know of her portrait?’

  Andrew walked closer to him. ‘I know she was sitting for the man. Was he able to complete it?’

  Gabriel shook his head.

  ‘Pity. I’m sure it would have made a nice addition to the gallery.’

  Thank God this painting would never see the light of day in any gallery, but Andrew did not need to know that.

  ‘Yes, a shame. Well, if you are finished in there, perhaps you can help me look out here.’

  With the portrait secure, Gabriel was eager to finish searching the studio and put this day behind him.

  Throughout his ride home, guilt over his suspicions about Olivia continued to plague him. She didn’t deserve his suspicions and had never done anything to indicate she could not be trusted, or that she hated the monarchy. She wasn’t Peter.

  For over five years Gabriel had had to live with the fact that Matthew’s death was all his fault. He was the one who had confided his responsibilities to his uncle. When Peter asked to accompany Matthew up north to gather intelligence on the rumblings of a plot against the Crown, he should have said no. He knew Peter was a zealous supporter of Catholic emancipation. And that year Prinny was very vocal he was not. But in his wildest dreams Gabriel never thought Peter would try to prevent them from stopping an assassination attempt over it.

  He would never know if Peter had intentionally killed Matthew to stop the intelligence they uncovered from reaching Gabriel. It might have been an accident. Peter took that knowledge to his grave. What Gabriel did know was that night when his uncle stood over him with cold rain pelting them both, Peter had every intention of killing him.

  After that night, Gabriel vowed he would never again be responsible for anyone else’s death. He would never again share what he did or the names of those that worked for him with anyone else. But his feelings for Olivia were running deep. During Manning’s interrogation it became apparent he cared more for her life than his own. He wanted to trust her. He wanted a real marriage. Perhaps there was a way to have one.

  * * *

  When Olivia awoke the next morning, her suspicions about Gabriel and the mysterious package in Richmond continued to plague her. Luckily she would be spending her morning in Manning’s studio. He would be a welcome diversion and today she would make him hold an extended conversation with her, whether he wanted to or not.

  * * *

  When she knocked on his door after breakfast no one was home, which did nothing to improve her mood. At least he could have sent a note cancelling her sitting for the day.

  There was no sense in returning home where she would be tempted to enter Gabriel’s study and probably get caught trying to pick the lock to his desk again. So she took Colette with her to Madame Devy’s to lose herself in a morning of shopping.

  * * *

  When she walked out of the dressmaker’s shop an hour later, she spotted Janvier standing in front of the milliner next door, deep in conversation with a willowy, dark-haired woman with fine features and a prominent brow. Olivia couldn’t recall seeing the woman before, and from the simple appearance of her dress one could assume she did not move within Olivia’s elevated circle.

  Having no desire to interrupt their conversation or stand on the pavement on such a windy day, Olivia was about to walk towards her carriage when Janvier appeared startled to see her. She gave him a friendly smile and he whispered something in his companion’s ear before he left her and approached Olivia.

  ‘What a pleasant surprise,’ he said with a tip of his hat.

  ‘This is a surprise. I was just seeing about a dress for the theatre.’

  ‘For the opening night of Douglas?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Will you tell me the colour or will you keep me in suspense?’

  ‘A bit of suspense keeps life exciting.’

  He flashed her a grin. ‘I agree. Well, I am certain whatever colour you have chosen, you will look lovely in it.’

  It was just like Janvier to try to charm her after being seen with another woman. She held on to her bonnet as a particularly strong gust of wind blew down the street. ‘I must be off before the wind takes me. Good day, Janvier.’

  He tipped his hat and helped her into the carriage, where Colette was waiting to accompany her to more shops. It would take quite of bit of funds to distract her from thinking about the enigma she had married.

  * * *

  Hours later the man himself emerged from his study as she stood in the entrance hall, removing her bonnet. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he leaned against the doorframe of his private sanctuary. ‘You’ve been busy,’ he remarked casually as he watched two footmen carry in boxes and wrapped packages from her carriage.

  She handed her bonnet and gloves to Colette, then dismissed her with a nod. ‘I realised I was in need of new slippers and gloves, and I saw a lovely fan for the theatre.’

  ‘How many slippers does one woman need, I wonder?’ he asked, with a slight smile.

  ‘As many as she can afford.’

  He nodded slowly, holding her gaze across the empty hallway. ‘There is something I need to discuss with you...when you have the time.’

  ‘I have a few things to attend to. Perhaps we can speak before your family arrives for dinner this evening?’

  He tipped his head. ‘I shall look forward to it. Shall we say six in my study?’

  She nodded her agreement, even though having a conversation with him, knowing he was hiding something from her, was the last thing she wanted to do. What if he discovered she had been in his study and taken the cryptic note he’d tried to burn? Well, so be it! She needed answers and she was not afraid to press him to get them.

  * * *

  The idea of sharing his secret life with Olivia terrified Gabriel. There was no other word to describe it. But after weighing his options all morning on how he could have a real ma
rriage with Olivia while also keeping his people safe, he knew it was the only solution.

  She had sat in that carriage. She had found that box. And just yesterday he’d caught her trying to pick the lock to his desk.

  He’d always known she was a smart, inquisitive woman. A person like that would not stop until they had answers. If she decided to poke into his affairs she might uncover the truth anyway—along with the identity of any number of the people who worked for him. He might be able to trust her with his involvement protecting the Crown, but he could not trust her with the identity of his operatives. The scar below his ribs was a daily reminder why. He would tell her the truth—at least the part he thought she needed to know.

  * * *

  At precisely six o’clock Olivia arrived at the door to his study. From the determined expression on her face, it appeared she had come with a purpose. It wouldn’t surprise him if she wanted to discuss that carriage again.

  ‘I gather from your earlier comment about the fan you purchased, you’re planning on attending the theatre,’ he said, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. That wasn’t exactly a polite way to begin a conversation, but it was something.

  She walked to the fireplace, where the ashes appeared to be more interesting than he was. ‘Yes, Douglas will be opening, and Mrs Siddons is to return to the stage. Prinny and I were recently discussing how we’ve missed her performances.’

  ‘He told me you brought marzipan. That’s an interesting gift to give someone with the gout.’

  ‘While you and I both know he suffers from terrible bouts of it, we also know he’s not plagued with it now.’ She finally looked at him. ‘Was there a particular reason you wanted to see me? I cannot imagine it was to discuss Prinny.’

  All of this had to do with Prinny.

  Gabriel pushed away from the door and walked towards her. ‘I have something I would like to discuss with you.’

  ‘You said as much.’

  He waited politely for Olivia to sit before taking the chair next to her. For the last hour he’d thought about what he would say—now he wished he’d considered how to begin. He spun his ring, searching for the right words.