Conspiracy of Hearts

by Helen Dickson

  Lord Brodie stepped into the hall with an arrogant stride, and when Serena’s eyes travelled surreptitiously over him, it was blatantly obvious that he had much to be arrogant about. She noted with some surprise and annoyance the warmth that sprung to her cheeks and how her heartbeat quickened its pace at his presence.

  Kit’s dark eyes flicked over both young women, locking briefly with Serena’s, who felt the impact of his ruthless vitality and pride, but it was on Dorothea that his gaze settled and softened.

  Because he wanted to pursue a military career, Kit had always avoided marriage but, when his cousin had died and he had inherited Thurlow in Northamptonshire, at thirty years old he had considered it time he settled down and had put his mind to finding a wife. On meeting Dorothea, he had been appreciative of her in every aspect, and decided that she was a prize worth seeking. Lord Carberry had encouraged the match, and Kit was pleased that he did not insist on a long courtship, for he was impatient to take her to Thurlow. Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips.

  ‘Dorothea! You are well, I trust?’

  Dorothea flushed, her serious expression lightening. ‘Perfectly, my lord,’ she murmured shyly. ‘But you are early. Your arrival has taken us by surprise. My father is not here to greet you.’

  ‘Think nothing of it.’ Kit smiled, his eyes twinkling. ‘I was impatient to see you. I would have sent a note but it would have been a waste of time. The note and I would have arrived together.’

  Dorothea turned to Serena, who had taken a stance a little behind her. ‘Serena,’ she said, ‘you remember Lord Brodie.’

  Serena stepped forward, her heart tripping a beat when she looked up into the handsome visage, struck by his stern profile. The strength of Lord Brodie’s gaze held hers, and for the first time she had a glimpse of hidden qualities that would delight the senses, but quickly dismissed the thought. It was out of keeping with what she really thought of him.

  ‘Of course. How good to see you again, my lord.’

  ‘It is a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Carberry. You are more charming than I remember.’

  Kit’s tone was natural yet formal—almost ceremonial, Serena thought, experiencing a twinge of disappointment.

  Kit turned to his companion. ‘May I introduce a good friend of mine, Sir Ludovick Lamont. Ludovick this is Dorothea, my betrothed—and this is Mistress Serena Carberry, Dorothea’s cousin,’ he said after Ludovick had bowed over Dorothea’s hand.

  Serena turned her attention to the flaxen-haired gentleman, whose eyes swept over her appraisingly before giving her a decorous, courtly bow. She smiled charmingly.

  Ludovick had been unable to take his eyes off Serena since entering the hall. At first he could only stare in mute appreciation—which was peculiar in one usually so bold. Sunlight lancing through the windows drenched her in its glow, caressing and playing on every delectable hill and hollow of her body. He noted her rich abundance of deep auburn hair and large green eyes staring calmly out of a face unblemished and milky smooth, and he found it hard to identify her with the young woman Kit had described to him on their journey to Carberry Hall.

  Kit had informed him that she was exceedingly pretty and unattached. When Ludovick had raised an interested brow, his friend had laughed and warned him in mocking tones that it would take a courageous man to take on Serena Carberry. In Kit’s opinion she had more mettle than most maids, and was a veritable virago when provoked. Kit had told him jestingly that while he was still in one piece it might be advisable to bypass Carberry Hall after all and continue on their way to Thurlow.

  Seeing her in the flesh, Ludovick was all admiration and cocked a practised eye, happily relieved that he’d agreed to accompany Kit instead of returning to London as he had originally planned to do after the hunt. Had he done so, he would have missed the opportunity of meeting this gorgeous creature.

  ‘It’s indeed an honour to make your acquaintance, Mistress Carberry,’ Ludovick said warmly, bent on winning this beauty for himself. Her smile melted his bones.

  Serena considered him to be a buoyant, truly debonair young gentleman, with a bold look not unlike that of Lord Brodie’s. His fine apparel, which was the height of fashion, lent him a rakish look. She already knew he was a Scot, so his accent—which was not as pronounced as some she had heard, and was derided by many in England who considered it uncouth—came as no surprise. Prior to his arrival at Carberry Hall, Dorothea had told her he had come south on King James’s accession to the English throne, and that he was highly thought of by Their Majesties. Having been a member of their inner circle for many years, like most of the Scots who had come with the king and been given lavish positions of advancements at court, he was extremely unpopular.

  Sir Ludovick was not as tall as Lord Brodie and was a little heavier and perhaps a few years younger, Serena thought. Unlike Lord Brodie, who was clean shaven, he sported a small, neatly trimmed square beard and moustache. There was an open honesty in his face and humour in his firm lips, and a quiet amusement in his alert blue gaze that could not fail to draw one’s attention.

  Serena liked him at once. Experiencing a spirit of mischief and moved by some feminine impulse of coquetry, she favoured him with a dazzling smile, without realising how devastatingly lovely she looked to the scowling marquess.

  Kit noticed that she was much taken with Ludovick. Having drawn back a little, he watched his friend’s unabashed perusal of Serena with a cocked eyebrow and a careless arrogance to hide a perplexing emotion that troubled him. His irritation began to stir against Ludovick—a man he had been at Cambridge with and who had remained his closest friend ever since. He took stock of this latest feeling, for it surprised him. It was not a feeling he was familiar with, and nor was it one he liked.

  ‘And I imagined life would be dull in Warwickshire,’ laughed Ludovick good-humouredly. ‘I came to partake of a spot of hunting to enjoy the freedom and escape the confining, plague-ridden city for a few days, expecting to be bored witless and to find the company stilted, yet I have been pleasurably surprised. Not only did I find the hunting splendid—but the company gets better all the time,’ he said meaningfully as his eyes quite shockingly raked Serena in her buttercup-yellow gown. ‘Your beauty slays me, Mistress Carberry.’

  ‘And you, sir, are a flatterer,’ laughed Serena lightly. ‘Do you live in London, Sir Ludovick?’

  ‘Yes, I do. My family home is in Argyllshire, but I have taken a house close to the Thames, west of the city at Chelsea.’

  ‘And are you able to indulge your passion for hunting there?’

  ‘On occasion—although a great deal of my time is spent at court.’

  ‘And do you see much of His Majesty?’

  ‘Indeed he does,’ Kit interrupted. ‘As you will have observed, there is nothing modest about Ludovick. After travelling extensively abroad, he returned to England and the court—which he re-adapted himself to disgustingly quickly, I might add—having become comfortably embedded before the king left Scotland.’

  ‘I protest, Kit,’ Ludovick uttered in smiling indignation. ‘You’ll convince these two lovely ladies that I am idle and good for nothing.’

  ‘And that is precisely what you are, Ludovick.’ Kit chuckled. ‘Your life consists of one pleasurable round of perpetual entertainment—and where better to find it than at Court. Queen Anne’s own love of pleasure makes it a perfect place for a gentleman to be. And I have to say,’ he said, looking meaningfully at Dorothea and Serena, who were smiling at this light banter between the two friends, ‘that he finds favour with many of the ladies who flit around Their Majesties.’

  ‘And you, sir, are no innocent yourself,’ remarked Sir Ludovick.

  ‘I never claimed that I was,’ Kit replied with a slight satirical inflection in his voice.

  The gentlemen’s eyes met and the gentle taunt hit home. ‘Aye, well,’ said Sir Ludovick in good humour, ‘we’ll say no more, otherwise you will find the fair Dorothea may ask Lord Carberry to find her anot
her suitor.’

  ‘The court seems a merry place to be,’ Serena commented. ‘I always imagined His Majesty would be burdened down with affairs of state.’

  ‘Not at the moment. At this present time the king is in Cambridgeshire, also indulging his passion for hunting. He leaves Salisbury and others to preside over the affairs of state.’ Sir Ludovick smiled, his eye continuing to peruse Serena. This was beginning to create a deep sense of unease in Kit, although he could not explain why, because Ludovick was behaving as he always did when in the presence of a beautiful woman; it had never bothered him in the past.

  ‘You have made an unsettling impression on Ludovick,’ remarked Kit, gazing at Serena with a slightly mocking smile. ‘I think he has other things of a softer passion on his mind besides hunting.’

  ‘Not at all, Kit,’ said Ludovick with a feigned look of outrage. ‘I think of nothing else—although…’ he smiled, a warmth entering his eyes when they rested on Serena ‘…it is hunting of a different kind that interests me just now—and I am certain it will prove to be just as pleasurable.’

  Kit frowned with slight displeasure at Ludovick. ‘Please ignore my friend, Mistress Carberry, and do not be offended by his boldness. He is quite shameless and a disreputable scoundrel. I assure you he has nothing honourable in mind.’

  ‘Then I shall not take the slightest notice.’ Serena smiled. ‘And did you enjoy the hunting at Woodfield Grange also, Lord Brodie?’ she asked, turning her attention to Kit, her eyes meeting his in questioning intensity, seeking some sign that would tell her all was well, and that what they had discussed on the morning of the ride had been nothing more than their imagination running riot. The quickening in his eyes told her he was not unaware of her train of thought, but all she received was a casual regard with a bland humour concealed in it.

  ‘It was enjoyable,’ he answered. Because of the growing concern he felt for Sir Henry, he had begun to feel protective of his daughter of late, and he didn’t like the feeling. His mode of life and imminent marriage to Dorothea suited him. She did not pose the same threat to his emotions as her fiery, high-spirited cousin.

  Stiffened by pride, Serena managed to dominate her disappointment. ‘And my father?’

  ‘He was hale and hearty when he left to return to Dunedin Hall. With such a large hunting party gathered together and deer in abundance to be hunted and caught, you don’t need me to tell you that he was in his element at Woodfield Grange.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’

  Kit’s dark eyes were unfathomable and seemed to glide over Serena in lingering appreciation, but he looked quickly away, leaving her disquieted. His laconic reply had given her not one glimpse of his inner thoughts and she would have to suppress the questions that burned in her, questions that caused her thoughts and wild imagings to run riot so they had become like a grotesque nightmare.

  She must be patient, she told herself, and wait until she found the opportunity of speaking to him alone. This did not prove easy, for Kit kept himself aloof from her throughout the rest of the day and at dinner. But Serena was determined to find a way of speaking to him before they retired for the night. Lord Brodie and Sir Ludovick were to leave at first light, so she may not have another opportunity.

  Lord Carberry returned home shortly after his guests had arrived. He was as surly as a bear with a sore head, after over-imbibing of his friend’s liquor the previous evening. Presiding at the head of the dining table, he conversed with the gentlemen, but did not exert himself unduly to be pleasant. This brought a questioning frown to Kit’s brow, closely followed by a flash of annoyance in his dark eyes.

  ‘I apologise for making my visit a short one, Lord Carberry, and it is with regret that, due to pressing matters at Thurlow that demand my attention, Sir Ludovick and I must leave at first light. However,’ said Kit, his eyes coming to rest warmly on Dorothea, ‘I shall return very soon to arrange for the wedding.’

  The older man considered his future son-in-law’s superior size with a baleful glare, regretting the troth made between Lord Brodie and his daughter. ‘I am not unaware that you have been in the district for several days now. Perhaps if you had not spent your time ingratiating yourself so well with Robert Catesby and Digby and the like, you would have found more time to spend with Dorothea.’

  Kit’s reply to the unconcealed rebuke was a sardonic lift to his brows. ‘By your tone, sir, I take it that you do not care for Catesby?’

  ‘No, sir, I do not,’ Lord Carberry blustered, his temper already inflamed by Kit’s disagreeable behaviour over the past few days. ‘He’s headstrong and a troublemaker—a man who exercises considerable personal influence over his contemporaries.’

  ‘And he also happens to be a Catholic,’ said Kit mildly.

  ‘Aye—a Catholic—and a militant one at that.’

  ‘Your worries are unfounded. Perhaps it will ease your mind when I tell you that I have seen neither Robert Catesby or Sir Everard. I went to Woodfield Grange to partake in the hunt on Lord Payne’s invitation, and passed a few pleasurable days in the presence of his other guests. I see no fault in that. Neither of the gentlemen you mentioned were present.’

  ‘I’m surprised to hear it—considering the friendship that exists between Catesby and Lord Payne.’

  A hot retort rose quickly to Kit’s lips but, remembering he was in Lord Carberry’s house, he was wise enough to bite back his words, realising there was more at stake here than a matter of whose company he kept. Kit had little tolerance for anyone questioning his behaviour, and Lord Carberry was no exception. The man’s arrogance in assuming he could dictate how he behaved pricked Kit’s pride, and though he made an effort to retain his good manners, his eyes gleamed cold. He knew perfectly well what was going through Lord Carberry’s mind, for he was giving every indication that he was beginning to regret the betrothal between himself and Dorothea.

  ‘They did not make a Catholic of me, if that is what you mean, and nor am I ripe for conversion. I can be very stubborn, Lord Carberry, when I want to be. I see nothing wrong with the company I keep and will not apologise for it—and if you are uncomfortable with the arrangement, then that is unfortunate.’ Kit delivered the pointed statement quietly yet firmly.

  Whether Lord Carberry was aware of the depth of Kit’s anger or not he gave no sign, but whatever he saw in his dark gaze made him let the matter rest without further discussion.

  The moment caused a peculiar unease and Serena felt a little chilled when she looked up and saw her uncle staring at Lord Brodie. She could not begin to recognise the depth of the older man’s fury, but she saw the taut rage emanating from every line of his body. There was a look of such cold calculation in his eyes, which rested on his future son-in-law, that she felt the cold hand of fear race up her spine.

  Alone in her bedchamber, Serena paced the floor in frustration. She heard Lord Brodie and Sir Ludovick come upstairs and bid each other goodnight. Taking a deep breath, her expression set and determined, and carrying a lighted taper, Serena left her room. Lord Brodie might be shocked when he opened his chamber door and found her standing there, but she didn’t care. He had a low opinion of her anyway, so why should she care what he thought.

  To be seen entering his room when all the house had retired for the night would do irreparable harm to herself and Lord Brodie, and Dorothea would never speak to her again. But if he could ease her mind by telling her that her father was not involved in a conspiracy against the king, then she would consider her actions well warranted.

  Chapter Five

  Without hesitation Serena tapped softly on Lord Brodie’s door. In a moment it was jerked open and he stood there, his eyebrows twisting dubiously when he saw her. Neither of them spoke; after glancing up and down the passageway, Kit snatched her inside, taking the taper from her and placing it on a chest by the door, a cynical twist to his mouth.

  Having discarded his doublet, he seemed larger in the dim light; in fact, everything about him was forcefu
l and exuded brute strength. Serena met his piercing dark stare, seeing something ruthless in that controlled, hard gaze. She stood tense, her back pressed against the door, afraid to venture farther, or to let her eyes wander to the huge four-poster bed which occupied centre stage. Already she realised it had been a mistake to venture into this lion’s den.

  Feeling compelled and at liberty to look his fill, Kit noted her silken lashes sweeping the soft rosiness of her cheeks, and that her glorious green eyes were dark and limpid in the soft light, her hair a living, dancing flame, with trailing tendrils escaping from the carefully arranged mass. Having removed the small pleated ruff she had worn earlier, he saw that a pulse throbbed gently in the long curve of her throat, rising slender and graceful above her gown of an iridescent blue. She was a fragile image of perfection, standing before a man who dwarfed her. He met her gaze with a querying, uplifted brow.

  ‘Why, Mistress Carberry! What the devil are you doing here? Are you not aware of the impropriety of such a visit at this hour? Do you make a habit of entering a gentleman’s bedchamber at night?’

  ‘Of course I don’t.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ve lost your way. Is it Ludovick’s bedchamber you are searching for? If so, it’s farther along the passageway—although,’ he said, a wicked gleam dancing in his narrowed eyes and an infuriating quirk lifting the corner of his mouth, ‘there is every reason to suppose he will be in bed by now. However, it will not reduce his pleasure on seeing you. It comes as no surprise that you are attracted to my friend. The eccentricities of his behaviour know no bounds and I know he would be delighted to receive you.’

  Serena’s face warmed to a vivid hue at what he implied and her eyes flared with ill-suppressed ire, but her mission was too important to become sidetracked. ‘He is charming, I grant you, but if you cast your mind back to our first encounter, as you saw for yourself, Lord Brodie, I am not the sort to fall for a gentleman’s flattery or be swayed by his persuasion. It is not Sir Ludovick I have risked my reputation to discuss.’