“She is not broken,” Ambrose said heatedly. “Not anymore. She may be different than she was, but she is not broken.”
“How do you know?” she asked curiously.
“Because we have talked of many things, of the past, of what happened to her. Her newfound independence is very important to her.”
“So she has found a friend in you?” Lady Vanessa asked, relief in her voice. “I am glad. She needed someone she could talk to. I tried to be that person, but she was not comfortable sharing with me.”
Ambrose had too much energy to sit still on the settee. He got up and began to pace in front of it. “I am glad, too,” he said. “After seeing her in that awful place I worried about her constantly. A gently bred girl forced into such a situation was repugnant. I couldn’t imagine her horror.”
“I have wondered how she managed to survive with her wits intact,” Lady Vanessa mused. “I am not sure I would have been as strong.”
“Strong. Yes, she is that.” Ambrose stopped and faced her, his hands on his hips, pushing his coat back. “I have great esteem for her.” He inwardly cursed. His feelings were so much more than that.
“As do I,” Lady Vanessa agreed. Just then there came a discreet knock on the door and the tea tray was pushed in.
“Thank you, Ames,” she said to the butler, who bowed and left them alone again. “Cream, no sugar?” she asked.
“How do you ladies remember these things?” he asked in wonder. “Yes, please.”
“Go on,” she said as she poured his tea. “You were saying?”
“My feelings for Mrs…Mel go much deeper than esteem,” he said awkwardly. He took the cup she held out for him.
“It would appear so,” she said mildly. “And I am glad for that as well. She needs a champion in her corner.” She set her own teacup down on the table and folded her hands in her lap, regarding him seriously. “But, Wetherald, you must be aware that she is still a married woman. She may never be returning to her husband, but she is not divorced or widowed.”
“I know,” he said miserably, setting his cup down with a rattle on a nearby table. “I don’t care.”
“All right,” she said.
He looked at her sharply but saw only truth on her face. “You would approve of a situation like that?” he asked.
She laughed. “My dear Wetherald, my own situation is perhaps more unusual and disparaged than that. Surely I have no ground to object.” She picked up her tea and sipped it.
“Your situation is exactly what I wish to discuss,” Wetherald said. That drew a frown from her. They had never actually confronted her relationship with her husband and Mr. Gabriel. “I am currently involved with Sir Barnabas James.”
“Oh, not again,” she said with a sigh. “I am sorry, Wetherald. I know the man can be very difficult. He’s overbearing and obnoxious. Is he making things difficult for you and Meli…Mel?”
“You misunderstand me,” he said, standing there stiffly before her. The conversation was painful. “We are involved.”
“Yes?” she said, clearly confused. “In what? Something political?”
“Sexually, romantically involved,” he said, closing his eyes in embarrassment.
“Oh,” she said, shock in her voice. “Oh, dear. I see.” He took a deep breath and opened his eyes to see her staring at him. When their eyes met she quickly looked away, sipping her tea to cover her reaction. She set the cup down on the table. “Does Mel know?” she asked at last.
“Yes.” He took another deep breath. “You see, she is also involved with Barnabas. And me.”
Lady Vanessa at there blinking at him. “You mean the three of you…?” She blushed, because of course she knew what that meant. “That is to say, well, I cannot deny that I am shocked. Not offended, of course. That would be hypocritical of me. It’s just that you’ve always been such a perfect gentleman, Wetherald, and it is hard to imagine you defying convention in such a substantial way.”
“I am shocked as well,” he admitted. “I did not think that I could ever be involved with a man that way. Or that, when I finally won the admiration of a woman I esteemed, I would be unwilling to give Barnabas up.” He regarded her quizzically. “I did not understand that it was possible to care for more than one person. Even though I have seen evidence of it with my own eyes, I did not believe it.”
Lady Vanessa smiled. “Very few believe it, until it happens to them,” she said. “And it happens to so few. We are the lucky ones, I think. What does Sir Barnabas have to say about all this?”
He blushed and began to pace again. “I have no idea. I have not revealed my feelings to him. He warned me when we first got involved not to fall in love with him. He said he is a very hard man to love and he likes it that way.” He smiled grimly at her over his shoulder. “I believe truer words were never spoken.”
“One of those, is he?” she asked sympathetically. “He is protecting his heart.”
“From me?” Ambrose asked in surprise.
“From being hurt,” she said softly. “I think perhaps he was hurt before, and has decided the best way to avoid that happening again is to deny his feelings and hold everyone at arm’s length.”
“He didn’t allow me to deny my feelings,” he muttered.
“Of course not. As I said, he’s terribly overbearing.” Lady Vanessa got up and came to stand in front of him. “Why are you here?” she asked bluntly. “Why have you told me all this? What is it you want from me?”
“I don’t know,” Ambrose said, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “I guess I wanted to know how you arrived where you are at. How did you know that this situation was the right one for you?” He looked at her. “I asked you to marry me at the same time as Wilkes and yet you chose Wilkes and Gabriel instead.” He held up his hand as she started to protest. “I do not question your decision. It was the right one. But how did you know?”
“I see,” she said. She took his hand. “Come, sit down. You make me dizzy with all this pacing.” She sat and pulled him down beside her. “I am enceinte,” she whispered. “We have not told anyone yet, but I periodically get lightheaded these days.”
Ambrose grabbed her hands and kissed her cheek. “My felicitations,” he said. “I know you have longed for a child.”
“Yes,” she said happily. “The doctor says this pregnancy appears to be a healthy one. The last few years have been hard.” Ambrose knew she had been ill with miscarriages several times. “But enough about that. As for how I knew that Oliver and Nick were the ones? I felt it here.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connait point. The heart has reasons of its own. I just knew. I tried to deny it, but from almost the very beginning I knew that they were the ones I would love for all eternity.” She sniffed and pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her nose. “Sorry. I’m very emotional because of the baby.”
“No apologies necessary. Our situation is different, unfortunately. Barnabas and I are very much on opposite sides of the aisle. My feelings have not changed my politics, nor would I expect any feelings on his part to change his. Any sort of permanent arrangement between us if folly to even contemplate.” He stood up again. “And Mel has declared she has no intention of marrying again. She has no trust in the institution any longer.” He sighed. “She is determined to be a real housekeeper to Barnabas and retain her independence.”
“Yes, well, not many housekeepers are romantically involved with their employers. At least, not for long,” Lady Vanessa said wryly. “They very soon find themselves looking for a new position when that sort of thing ends.”
“Barnabas would never force Mel out,” Ambrose said. He stopped short and stared at the wall for a moment. “He’d never put her out on the street,” he said again.
He frowned and thumped his leg with his fist. Barnabas had lied to Ambrose to get him into bed. And Ambrose had believed the worst of him. How many people had believed the worst of him? Too many. Ambrose was probably one of
the few people who understood that at the heart of Sir Barnabas James was a core of honor and loyalty. Albeit tempered, and often obscured, by a practical nature that allowed him to do what was required when he deemed it necessary. Or just expedient. But truly, he was honorable in his heart, Ambrose was sure of it.
“You are probably right,” she said. “Lord knows he drops everything to help Very and her friends out of one scrape after another.” She shook her head. “And he helped Mel as soon as you asked, didn’t he? I heard from Very that one of his agents, or former agents, or friends…I’m sorry, I can’t remember their connection. Simon Gantry? I’ve met him a few times. Didn’t he help free Mel? He’s gone missing. Sir Barnabas must be quite worried.”
“Yes,” Ambrose said. Barnabas hadn’t told him. That must be why he’d acted so oddly last night, and tumbled into an assignation with Ambrose and Mel, showing more emotion than Ambrose had ever seen from him. Simon’s disappearance, that was what had been bothering him.
“I must go,” Ambrose said brusquely.
“Oh, of course,” Lady Vanessa said. “Don’t let me keep you. I know how busy you are. Aren’t they voting in the Lords today? Oliver and Nick went to the gallery to observe the debates.”
Ambrose closed his eyes. “Lord Winston’s bill,” he said from between clenched teeth. “I’m going to kill him.”
Barnabas had not mentioned it this morning and Ambrose was too busy thinking about Mel and their night with her to remember. He’d never forgotten a debate or a vote before. Had he really just imagined Barnabas was honorable at heart? He took his hat and stick from the butler and ran down the steps to his waiting carriage.
Chapter 24
Daniel sat on the corner of Barnabas’s desk and twirled Barnabas’s pen, leaving an ink stain on the wood. Barnabas reached over and took the pen from him with a frown. “We are not going to locate Simon any faster if you sit there annoying me,” he said flatly.
“Well, you won’t find him any slower, either,” Daniel argued. “And Simon always loved it when I annoyed you.”
Barnabas shoved his chair away from his desk. “Stop talking about him as if he’s dead.”
“Isn’t he?” Daniel said roughly, looking out the window. “We’d have heard something by now.”
“Simon Gantry is impossible to kill,” Barnabas snapped. “You and I both know this. How many people have tried? How many times has he tried to kill himself with his foolish antics and addictions? And still he lives to annoy us all. I’m sure we shall find him in due time.”
“Yes, of course you’re right,” Daniel said, clearing his throat. “Of course.”
Barnabas walked over and looked out the window of his office toward Westminster. They were voting on Winston’s bill today. Barnabas supposed he ought to be there. He’d been working hard enough to get the damn thing passed. He sighed. It was what led to this unholy romantic tangle he found himself in, wasn’t it?
Perhaps. Perhaps not. Maybe he and Wetherald had been heading here for years, and maybe Mel had been the catalyst for all this emotional upheaval. Barnabas didn’t care for it at all. He didn’t know how people lived like this. They were all mad.
“So,” Daniel said, coming over to stand next to him and stare out the window. If ever there was a leading syllable, it was that one.
He glanced over to see Daniel with his hands resting behind his back, studiously avoiding Barnabas’s gaze. Barnabas turned back to the street. If Daniel wished to pry or ask uncomfortable questions, Barnabas was not going to make it easier for him. At one time in his life he’d granted Daniel a degree of lassitude because of their relationship. Those times were no more.
Daniel sighed, and Barnabas could hear the annoyance in it. He fought a smile.
“So, what’s this I hear about Wetherald haunting your house lately?” Daniel asked baldly. Barnabas had to give him credit for bearding the lion in his den. Not many had the fortitude to do so. Really only a few, including Daniel and Ambrose.
“I fear you have intelligence that I do not,” Barnabas replied. “When did Lord Wetherald expire?”
“Oh, give it up, Barnabas,” Daniel said crossly. “I know you’re fucking him. How on earth did that happen? I thought you two hated each other.”
“Hate is too strong a word for my feelings in regards to any political foe,” he prevaricated. “I am interested in outcomes, not personal associations or emotional attachments.”
“So you are fucking him,” Daniel crowed. “I knew it. Are you blackmailing him?”
“I do not blackmail,” Barnabas said coolly. “I instigate initiatives to alter perceptions about desired outcomes.”
“You’ve been a government man for too long,” Daniel accused him. “You obfuscate with words better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Thank you,” Barnabas said, returning to his desk.
“That was not a compliment.” Daniel turned to face him, sitting on the window ledge. “But Wetherald is the one who has surprised me here. I had no idea he liked men.”
“Neither did he,” Barnabas replied. “As a matter of fact, if you asked him today he would most likely still be surprised.”
“Meaning what?” Daniel said, frowning. “That the rumor isn’t true? Or that you forced him into it and he isn’t happy about it?”
“I have never forced anyone into my bed,” Barnabas declared. “I have maneuvered situations so that certain opportunities arose. Should someone choose to take advantage of those opportunities, it is hardly under duress.”
He’d come very close to forcing Ambrose. He didn’t like knowing that about himself. He’d justified it at the time, of course. But he wasn’t lying. He had never forced anyone into his bed. Where was the sport in that? And Ambrose, by the time they ended up there, was a more than willing participant. And look at where he was now. Barnabas had practically gift-wrapped the woman of his dreams for him. Ambrose could hardly complain about that.
“So the rumor is true?” Daniel asked, refusing to drop the subject.
“I cannot say,” Barnabas answered. “I did not start the rumor, nor have I been privy to it.”
“The rumor is that either you’re shagging him or your new housekeeper is,” Daniel told him. “It’s already assumed that you’ve been shagging her since you instigated the initiative to get her into your house.”
Barnabas raised a brow, tamping down his anger. “I did not manipulate Melinda de Vere into my house to take advantage of her distressing situation.”
“That’s what I said.” Daniel crossed his arms. “I told her that you’re such a desired commodity that you have to toss interlopers out of your bed.”
“Her?” Barnabas asked, although he already knew the answer.
“Very, of course,” Daniel said. “That woman knows everything that goes on in London. Her afternoon teas are thinly disguised interrogations.”
“Obviously not everything,” Barnabas countered.
“I’m asking as a friend, Barnabas,” Daniel said quietly. He walked over and leaned on Barnabas’s desk, staring him right in the eyes. “I think I know you better than most, which isn’t saying much, but I don’t really believe you’d take advantage of anyone for your own personal gain. The good of king and country, yes. So tell me what’s going on. Let’s go back a few months, actually. Why did you agree to rescue Melinda de Vere in the first place?” He held up his hand. “This is all tied to Simon’s disappearance. I need to get to the bottom of it, Barnabas. He is my dearest and oldest friend, and I will find him.”
“So you are asking as Simon’s friend?” Barnabas asked, trying to deflect so he could gather his thoughts.
“I am asking as your friend,” he said firmly. “And the more you put me off, the more alarmed I’m getting.”
Barnabas picked up his pen and fiddled with it, focusing on the pen and not Daniel. “I rescued her because Wetherald asked me to, as a personal favor.”
“Good God, has the man no sense of self preservation at a
ll?” Daniel said, amused. “To owe Sir Barnabas James a favor is a dangerous thing.”
“Indeed,” Barnabas drawled, not amused. “And then he asked me to do something—which I have not yet done—but when I do it will be favor number two.”
Daniel straightened and observed him silently for several moments, eyes narrowed. “I don’t like the sound of that,” he said. “What exactly is this second favor?”
“That is between Wetherald and myself,” Barnabas said, wondering if he should count killing Hargraves as favor number three. He could hold Ambrose indebted to him for some time with that many favors owed.
The problem, of course, was that he didn’t want Ambrose to keep coming back simply to satisfy a debt. He wanted him to come back to satisfy his desire, which was dangerous. Barnabas couldn’t afford the kind of emotional attachment thinking like that led to. He needed to kill de Vere and Hargraves and give Ambrose his farewell. And while he was at it, he needed to push Mel out of the nest as well. The two could console one another and he’d dance at their wedding. That’s what the diabolically clever Sir Barnabas James would do. He didn’t feel particularly diabolical or clever right now, however.
“You are exceedingly broody today,” Daniel said. “Do you need help killing them?” Barnabas jerked his gaze to Daniel and then cursed the revealing move. “You are going to kill someone.” Daniel glared. “You know I’m better at that sort of thing. You’re out of practice. I do it for a hobby.”
“How do you know I’m out of practice?” Barnabas asked calmly, leaning back in his chair, posing negligently. He could make Daniel question his own conclusion if he played his part well enough.
“Because you have ink stains on your fingers,” Daniel said. “You spend more time writing reports and sending secretive notes than you do in the field.”
“While it is true that I do not personally undertake missions anymore, I am often in the field supporting those who do or evaluating them.” Barnabas smirked at Daniel’s skeptical look. “And they are none the wiser.”
“Fine.” Daniel paced back and forth in front of Barnabas’s desk several times, clearly thinking. He turned to face Barnabas. “Why did you bring Mrs. de Vere into your home? What are you protecting her from?”
For Love and Country (Brothers in Arms Book 13) Page 19
