The King's League Box Set: Regency Romance

by Lucy Adams

  Struggling to find her voice and feeling a sudden rush of fear crash over her like a wave of icy water, Carolyn shook her head. “No, that is not the case, Lord Franks,” she managed to say, somewhat hoarsely. “You are mistaken.”

  His frown was immediate. “What do you mean?”

  Pressing her lips together tightly for a moment or two, Carolyn considered what she was to say, fearful that this would bring a good deal of injury to her brother but knowing that she had to speak the truth. The injuries to Lord Millerton and to his driver forced her to do so.

  “My brother returned home, only a minute or so after you departed,” she told him, seeing his eyes flare wide. “He came to greet myself and Lady Callander. That is why I was surprised to see you coming from his study, Lord Franks.”

  “Why was that?” he asked, moving even closer as though his presence would force her to speak all the more quickly. “You believed him to be in there?”

  She swallowed hard, not understanding what had occurred. “He was within,” she told him, rubbing at her forehead and looking away. “As you walked to the front door of the house, I turned my head and saw him quit the room. I—I did not see him thereafter.”

  Closing her eyes, Carolyn felt herself sway for a moment or two, only for Lord Franks’ hand to catch her arm and, as he turned her to continue walking along the path, her hand now resting on his arm and his free hand over her fingers. They walked in such a fashion for some minutes, silent and lost in their own thoughts. Carolyn did not know what to think of what Lord Franks had revealed to her, now fearful that her brother was involved in something so dreadful that he was now in more danger than ever before.

  “I must tell you the truth, I think,” Lord Franks muttered, not looking at her again but rather keeping his gaze on the path ahead. “I fear you will not be pleased with what I have to say but you are intelligent enough to understand it, and honest enough for me to place a small trust in you.”

  She tried to smile, tried to lift her heart free of its sudden weights but found that she could not. “Just a small amount of trust, Lord Franks?”

  His eyes were flint. “I do not know if you are telling me the truth,” he said, simply. “You might very well have been the only one at home. Your brother might have remained absent and—"

  “Then speak to Lady Callander,” she interrupted, flushed with a sudden fury. “She will confirm that she spoke to my brother yesterday afternoon, before I came out into the hallway. She will tell you how I returned and remained with her, explaining what had occurred, before we decided to go to the dressmakers so as to rid ourselves of the sense of fright that had overtaken us.”

  Lord Franks chuckled darkly, adding to Carolyn’s upset. “I have every intention of doing so, Miss Hemmingway,” he told her, making her swallow her anger and attempt to keep her emotions under control. “Have no doubt about that.”

  Again, silence swirled around them, the only sound their feet on the path, or the occasional burst of laughter from another group of ladies or gentlemen nearby. Carolyn took in steady breaths, trying to force the anger from her heart, forcing it out of her veins so that she might listen and speak with calmness. She did not like Lord Franks’ accusation that she might well be untrustworthy but she tried to tell herself that it was reasonable for him to do so.

  “The League,” Lord Franks said suddenly, “is a group of gentlemen set up to protect the King and the Prince Regent, as well as to ensure that the country is kept free from spies who might seek to exploit any weaknesses the country might have. We are, for the most part, secret.” He did not look at her but continued to speak in a matter-of-fact tone. “Lord Millerton has only been accepted into it these last few months, whereas I have been a member for the last few years.” Darting a glance at her, his lips curved into a slightly rueful smile. “I have done much to protect this country, done much to serve my King, but there is always someone else to pursue, something else to bring to a swift end.”

  “And there is something at present that involves my brother?” she asked, a catch in her voice as she inadvertently tightened her hand on his arm. “What is it that you think he has done?”

  “I…..” He trailed off, looking at her and slowing his steps as he spoke. “I do not want to say too much, Miss Hemmingway.”

  Anger spiraled up towards her heart. “I am not your enemy, Lord Franks!” she exclaimed, already finding it difficult to contain her upset. “Why will you not understand that? If you are speaking of my brother, then I, of course, find that particularly difficult, but I do still wish to know the truth!” her heart began to pound furiously as she sought to explain herself. “My brother is, from what I know, a man of a less than perfect character. He does nothing but seeks his own pleasures whilst in London, just as any gentleman might, but often makes foolish bets and the like—but I would never consider him to be a traitor to the Crown! He has a wife to think of, a family and a title!”

  Lord Franks sighed heavily, shaking his head for a moment. “Miss Hemmingway, I have to be on my guard,” he said, his voice quieting her anger somewhat. “It is only right. The League, as you are aware given what was said yesterday, is under attack, by someone unknown.”

  “But how can that be?” she asked, questions rushing through her mind as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. “If you are meant to be an organization that, for the most part, keeps its actions entirely out of the view of the rest of society, then how can someone be attempting to bring you to your knees?”

  “That is the very question I have been asking myself,” he muttered, his hand passing over his eyes for a moment. “And I sought to find a specific item from within your brother’s house, one that I saw him use at the ball some days ago.”

  Her interest piqued, Carolyn waited for him to say more, but he did not. She twisted her lips and looked at him with narrowed eyes, seeing how his gaze darted towards her and then away again.

  “What is it, Lord Franks?” she asked, pointedly. “Surely you must know that I cannot have such a statement without knowing what the item is.”

  His expression was still rather blank but she could tell from the look in his eyes that he did not want to inform her of the truth.

  “Please,” she said, her hand tightening on his arm. “I might be able to help you and, in doing so, might be able to help my brother. I am sure that, whatever he is involved in, it is not out of willingness on his part. He would never betray his King.”

  Lord Franks shot her a rueful smile. “You would be greatly surprised to know just how many people believe that of their siblings, their parents or their friends,” he said, heavily. “As much as I should like your help, Miss Hemmingway, I fear that it would be unwise for me to speak to you of it.”

  “I am sure of it,” she said, firmly. “My brother would not do such a thing. I know him well enough to be certain of that, Lord Franks. Whatever he is involved in—if he is involved in something, then I am quite sure it is not of his own persuasion.” She frowned, recalling the mark on her brother’s face this morning. “In fact, given the beating he appears to have endured, I would suggest that he is entirely unwilling at present.” A sudden fear clutched at her heart. “What if someone is threatening Lady Hamilton, and we know nothing of it, since she remains at the estate?”

  “You may be correct,” Lord Franks said, slowly, turning his head to look at her carefully. “Very well, Miss Hemmingway, we shall attempt to trust each other at this present juncture.” He sighed and let go of her hand, and it fell back to her side. “I am seeking an emblem,” he said, firmly. “I saw it on one of your brother’s handkerchiefs. This emblem was also torn from the man who shot through Lord Watt’s windows and injured Lord Millerton.”

  Carolyn let out her breath slowly, looking away from Lord Franks as the enormity of what he had told her hit her square in the chest.

  “If you can find that emblem, then that would be a confirmation of what I fear,” Lord Franks continued, his tone quieter now as though h
e realized just what he was asking of her. “Although I fear it was in that box.”

  “Box?” Turning her head, she looked at him sharply, seeing him wince slightly.

  “I took a box from your brother’s study—long and quite thin in appearance. It was locked and I did not have time to look within. Lord Millerton had it in his hands when I went to find help after the carriage accident, but when I returned, Lord Millerton had been beaten and the box taken.”

  She closed her eyes, an icy hand grasping her heart. “My brother could not have…..” No other words came for she knew precisely what Lord Franks meant but did not want to believe it.

  “There must be something of grave importance there,” Lord Franks said, quietly. “That is all I am saying.”

  Nodding to herself and pushing aside the feeling of nausea, Carolyn took in a deep breath and tried to put one foot in front of the other, not even thinking to look behind her to see if her mother was nearby. “Why do you not just ask Hamilton directly?”

  Lord Franks gave her a small smile. “That might very well be the easy suggestion, but he could easily deny everything and leave us in even more danger,” he said, quietly. “I must be as careful and as cautious as I can in this matter. I do not want there to be any further incidents that could cause even greater injury to the gentlemen of the League…. nor their wives who are sometimes heavily involved in such matters.”

  Despite her shock and surprise at what Lord Franks had already revealed to her, Carolyn felt her brows lift all the more at the news that some ladies were involved in the activities of The King’s League.

  “I know that you say you wish to assist in this matter, Miss Hemmingway,” Lord Franks continued, his voice and expression now rather gentle, “but you must be fully aware of what such a thing could entail. There could come a severe punishment for your brother—and what would you do then?”

  “I—I would do what I could to help him also,” she stammered, not finding anything else to say. “I could not leave him to face such consequences alone.”

  “Not even if his behavior was treasonous?” he asked, softy. “As I have said, Miss Hemmingway, you must be sure you know precisely what might come of your willingness to assist me in this. Be certain that both your heart and your mind can bear what might soon come from it.”

  She did not answer him but looked away, feeling her throat beginning to ache as she realized what he meant. Could she bear it if Hamilton was sent to the gallows for treason, knowing that her investigations had been one of the things that had sent him there? Swallowing the ache, she let out a long breath and set her shoulders. No, she had to believe that her brother was not guilty in this regard. She had to trust that he was, mayhap, merely being foolish or forced to behave in a certain way. She could not let herself believe that there was anything more to it, had to trust that if she helped Lord Franks, she would be helping her brother to extricate himself from whatever difficulties he was in at present.

  “Will you be attending Lord and Lady Wiltshire’s ball tomorrow?” she asked, glad that her voice did not crack with all the emotion she felt.

  “I intend to do so, yes,” Lord Franks replied, as they turned around to return along the path they had just taken, making Carolyn realize that there was no sign of her mother.

  “Then I hope I will have something to give you there,” she told him, finding herself filled with a fierce determination to do what she had decided. She would search the house from top to bottom if she had to. “An emblem you say.”

  “A gold one, yes,” he said, giving her no more detail than that. “I hope you are successful, Miss Hemmingway. And I must hope that my trust in you is not about to come back to injure me.”

  “I am certain it will not,” she told him, suddenly spying her mother talking and laughing with a few acquaintances, having perhaps forgotten about Carolyn and Lord Franks. “For I have every intention of proving myself to you, Lord Franks. You will just need to wait a little longer.”

  Chapter Nine

  The ball was in full swing by the time Robert arrived. He was very glad indeed to see Lord Millerton in attendance, even though he knew that the man’s shoulder was still very stiff and sore. Lord Watt and Lord Monteforte were not present this evening, with Lord Watt remaining at home with his wife and Lord Monteforte at another social occasion. Lord Haddington was present here somewhere, however, as were one or two others.

  Robert felt a little more relieved in believing that, from what he had discussed with Miss Hemmingway, there was now a chance that she might find something of note. What the emblem meant and why it was of importance, he still had very little idea, but if he could prove that Lord Hamilton had some connection to it, then that would be a good first step. He would have to then challenge Lord Hamilton in some way, or seek for some more evidence that would link him to what had happened at Lord Watt’s home.

  There was a good deal of care to be taken on his part still, and Robert had to admit that he was still rather afraid that he might make a mistake or act in a foolish way that would endanger those around him, as he had done before. Even now, he could still see the pale face of Lord Millerton as he lay in the carriage, and still the guilt was binding tightly around his heart.

  “Ah, Lord Franks!”

  He turned slightly, took in who was standing there and took a small step backwards.

  “You do not need to run from me,” the lady said, her eyes reminding him so very much of her daughter’s. “I am not here to beg you to return to her.”

  Robert swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as the shock began to disperse. “Good evening, Lady Penfield,” he said, his throat rasping just a little with the surprise of seeing her. “I did not expect you to be in London.”

  She gave him a small smile, her expression one of regret. “Nor did I,” she answered, quietly. “But given how trying these last few months have been, my husband thought it best that we spend some time in London, amongst friends.”

  The urge to ask how her daughter was grew steadily, knowing that it was not only polite to ask but also because there was a part of him that was truly concerned for her. “And Miss Swift?” he asked, glad that there was no catch in his voice. “How does she fare?”

  Lady Penfield smiled gently, her eyes appearing to be a little damp. “My daughter is Lady Brunfield now, Lord Franks,” she told him, quietly. “She is married and settled, for which I am grateful for. I am….” She trailed off, taking in a breath that perhaps spoke of the great swell of emotion that had settled in her chest. “I am sorry.”

  His own heart ached furiously but he could only smile at Lady Penfield. “There is nothing for you to apologize for, Lady Penfield, truly,” he said, speaking as honestly as he could. “I was fond of your daughter and whilst I do not truly understand the reasons for the ending of our betrothal, I must continue to presume that they were for both Miss Swift’s best and for my own. I am glad that she is settled and please do pass on my congratulations to her when you are next in her company.”

  Lady Penfield’s smile slipped. “She is gone to the continent with her husband, so it will be some time before I see her again,” she answered, her voice wobbling just a little. “But I shall be sure to write to her, Lord Franks and please do accept my thanks for your understanding and your kindness.”

  Robert bowed and smiled, only for Lady Penfield to drop her head and step away, clearly a little distressed. Robert frowned, turning to walk in the opposite direction of the lady, wondering why she appeared so upset. After all, she had been the one to come and speak to him, which left him feeling all the more confused. It was not, he realized, difficult for him to think of Miss Swift, even though he had been very confused and upset when it had come to the strange end of their betrothal. Yes, he had been fond of her but there had not been any great love there, no great affection that tore at his heart.

  His head lifted and, almost without the awareness that he was doing it, his eyes landed on Miss Hemmingway. She was dancing with another ge
ntleman, a gentleman he did not know, and laughing at something the gentleman had said. Her lips were pulled into a wide smile, her eyes bright and a rosy warmth in her cheeks. The gown she wore was emerald green and there were leaves and flowers swirling through her curls. His breath caught and he found he could not look away, seeing her in a new light and finding himself quite overcome by her.

  It was a very odd sensation, he realized, trying to think practically whilst his gaze remained tied to her. He had just been thinking of Miss Swift, whom he had found himself engaged to after an agreement with her father but had not really felt a deep love for. Now he found himself watching a young lady whom he did not know very well at all but suddenly felt a strange burst of emotion that seemed to wrap around his heart and refused to let him go.

  She looked at him then, whether by some instinct that someone was watching her or simply by chance, he did not know. Robert swallowed hard and tried to look away, but found his will was weaker than he had expected. Closing his eyes, he turned his head and felt heat run from his head to his toes, igniting something within him that felt more like shame than anything else.

  “My lord?”

  He looked to his left to see a footman nearing him, holding a tray with a note set down upon it.

  “You have a message, my lord,” the footman said, bowing his head. “It came with a note of urgency.”

  Frowning, Robert picked it up and unfolded it, looking all about him before deciding to read it in a quieter corner of the room. The footman disappeared almost at once, melting back into the crowd, and Robert turned on his heel to make his way towards the corner of the room.

  He turned the note over, noting the wax seal was entirely blank. Breaking it, he opened the note and let his gaze run down over it, seeing the few letters that were written there and feeling a cold hand grasp his heart.

  ‘Lord Caravel thrown from his horse,’ the note began. ‘Lady Watt is caring for him. Doctor is to be called. Be on your guard.’