Romancing the Rogue (Regency Rendezvous Book 9)

by Lana Williams

  “Miss Gold, is something amiss?” The Duke of Wayfair stood directly before her, the sinister look on his face catching her off guard.

  He was the last person she wanted to see. But she needed to do all in her power to make certain he kept his silence about her father. That meant politeness was in order. She pasted the semblance of a smile on her lips. “Nothing at all. I hope the evening finds you well.”

  “It does, indeed.” He stepped closer, much to her surprise.

  Did he intend to insist she go on another ridiculous errand? The idea had her temper flaring. Agreeing to such a request felt wrong. Nor could she refuse and risk harm to her family. She waited, wondering what he’d say next. His close regard made her decidedly uncomfortable.

  At last, he said, “I find you most attractive, Caroline.”

  Heat filled her cheeks at the forward comment, along with the use of her given name. “Thank you, your grace.”

  “It is unfortunate and inconvenient that you’re betrothed to Aberland. In fact, if the betrothal were to be broken, I’m certain another offer would be forthcoming.”

  She stilled, her mind racing. Did he suggest what she thought he suggested? Was this some terrible trial fate had brought forth to test her resolve?

  She’d longed for this moment for months. The idea of saving her family after all left her breathless. While the return of the profitable investment eased their situation considerably, her marrying the wealthy duke meant they could hire the best doctors to see to her father. They’d never have to worry about money again.

  Or was the reason she was breathless due to the thought of losing Richard? Not merely losing him, but shoving him aside. The idea made her positively ill, especially on the heels of her realization of how much she loved him.

  How many times had she told herself she was willing to do anything to save her family?

  She glanced at the duke from under her lashes, well aware this was the same man who’d used her for his own end. Not only used her, but deliberately sent her into a potentially dangerous situation. Who’d threatened to reveal a harmful secret. What kind of man would do such things to a woman he considered making his wife?

  Not an honorable one.

  Perhaps she could’ve endured marriage to him if she hadn’t found love with Richard.

  While she still felt uncertain about her relationship with Richard as well as his actions, she knew he was honorable. He’d never deliberately cause harm to her or her family despite her earlier doubts about him. If only she could gain his trust so he’d tell her what he was about.

  “I hope I’ve made my meaning clear,” the duke said, frowning at her lack of response.

  Though tempted to tell him what he could do with his suggestion, she held her tongue. What could she possibly say that wouldn’t anger him? “I will certainly consider your words carefully.”

  She didn’t refer to what he’d said as a proposal, for it wasn’t. He’d made no promise to marry her if she broke her engagement, nor would she believe him if he had. Something about the duke made her uneasy. She’d been so focused on his money and connections that she’d ignored her instincts regarding the man himself.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to make her escape from the duke’s presence. She nearly shuddered at the idea of being trapped in a marriage with him. Her gaze swept across the ballroom, searching for Richard.

  As though she now had a special sense for him, she caught sight of him almost immediately. By the frown on his face, he didn’t care for the duke speaking to her.

  That made two of them.

  ~*~

  Richard entered Brooks’s the next afternoon, eager to execute the plan he and his associates had developed to expose Wayfair as a spy. After seeing him speak to Caroline last night and witnessing her upset, Richard was even more anxious to prove the man’s guilt. She’d refused to reveal what the duke had said. No doubt she still feared he’d threaten once again to share the truth about her father.

  No more. Richard had had enough. What better way to remove the threat Wayfair posed to Caroline and her family than declaring him a traitor to the entire world?

  The duke’s movements had been closely watched since his return from Southampton. As reported, Wayfair sat at a table before the fire, sipping a drink as he conversed with another man.

  Many French spies had started using books to send coded messages, much like the one Wayfair had sent Caroline to exchange. In order to have enough proof against a titled lord, especially a duke with close ties to the Prince Regent, Whitehall wanted solid evidence that came directly from Wayfair with witnesses to confirm it.

  While the evidence they’d collected from the book and message Caroline had been involved in helped, it wouldn’t be enough to convict the duke.

  Today’s plan was simple—swap the book Richard carried in an inner pocket of his jacket with the one they expected Wayfair to leave for his contact.

  Unfortunately, the number of variables in the plan were many. Had the footman who worked for the duke gotten the correct book title? Was today the day Wayfair intended to leave the book for his contact?

  Viscount Atley, an associate of Richard’s, walked forward from one of the interior rooms, a satisfied smile on his face.

  “Atley.” Richard nodded, pausing to converse with him as though nothing untoward was about to occur.

  “The gaming tables treated me well today. Why don’t I buy you a drink?” Atley played his part well, saying the words loud enough that Wayfair could hear if he cared to listen.

  Atley led the way toward a table a good distance from Wayfair—just in the next room but still within sight, signaling for drinks as he went.

  Richard took a chair that, if he leaned forward, allowed him to observe the duke. He hoped Wayfair would reveal the book.

  The footman who served both Wayfair and Whitehall waited outside with the duke’s carriage and had confirmed the man had taken the book with him that morning. It wasn’t in the carriage unless Wayfair had tucked it away somewhere inside. The possibility that he didn’t intend to exchange the book at the club crossed Richard’s mind. If that was the case, they’d need to find another way to make their plan succeed.

  They had to, before Richard took matters into his own hands and throttled the duke for continuing to bother Caroline.

  A manservant arrived with the drinks while Atley and Richard conversed. Time passed at a snail’s pace as they waited for Wayfair to make his move.

  At last, both Wayfair and his companion stood. When the other man turned away, the duke casually withdrew a small book from inside his jacket and set it on the table.

  Richard breathed a sigh of relief to see the same book he carried but quickly shifted back from view as the duke glanced about the club and stepped away from the book.

  At Richard’s nod, Atley rose and moved forward as casually as possible. “Wayfair, good to see you. I’ve a question for you.”

  With Atley holding the duke’s attention, Richard walked toward the group of men who had their backs to him, hoping the duke didn’t decide to suddenly turn around. As smoothly as possible, he removed his book from the inside pocket of his jacket and switched it with the one on the table then tucked the duke’s book into his inside pocket.

  As though sensing someone behind him, the duke turned to look at him, giving Richard a less than friendly glare. His gaze dropped to the book on the table before returning to Atley, who continued speaking.

  Richard kept walking directly out the front door, nerves stretched taut as he waited for the duke to demand he stop.

  The sooty London air had never smelled sweeter as he exited the club, gave a nod to the duke’s footman, and hailed a hackney to take him to Whitehall.

  Richard waited until the hackney was well away from the club before pulling out the book. He fanned the pages slowly, rewarded when a piece of paper dropped to his lap.

  To the casual reader, the message would seem unimportant. But even its vague words suggest
ed it hid vital information. Breaking the codes of various messages and letters the French sent was no easy task. Their methods changed often. But taking the time and effort to intercept and decipher messages had paid off again and again. Knowing the enemies’ plans meant the difference between victory and defeat and had saved the lives of many English soldiers.

  Atley would soon end his conversation with the duke but remain to see who collected the book and follow him.

  If the message Richard had intercepted was of importance, they would have proof the Duke of Wayfair was a French spy. And that would make it even more likely Wayfair was indeed Le Sournois. Richard was most anxious to find out for himself, for Dumond, and now for Caroline as well.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Richard did his best to contain his impatience that evening as he awaited Caroline’s arrival at the Bosfords’ musicale. While he still hadn’t received word from Whitehall as to the contents of the message he’d taken from the duke earlier, he knew in his bones that it, along with the other one Wayfair had passed, would prove his guilt.

  If only he could share that with Caroline so she’d know the duke would soon no longer bother her or her family.

  Rather than take a seat in the many chairs set before the pianoforte and string instruments on the small stage at the end of the room, Richard remained standing by the door, waiting for Caroline and her family. He studied the gathering crowd again to make certain he hadn’t somehow missed her arrival.

  “Aberland.”

  Richard turned to find Wayfair nearby. The glare the duke had given him earlier in the day paled in comparison to the one he used now. The sight nearly made Richard smile. The idea that the duke was uncomfortable in any way pleased him to no end.

  “Wayfair.”

  He started to glance away when the duke spoke.

  “I don’t know what you’re about, but I’ve had enough.”

  “I have no idea to what you’re referring.”

  “Everywhere I go, there you are. Since the Southbys’ ball, you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side.”

  “Why ever would you think that?” Unease shifted inside Richard. Though he welcomed a confrontation with the man, he didn’t want to anger him while he could still harm Caroline and her family. Nor did he want his intelligence work exposed.

  “Jeremy Brant.”

  “Who?” But Richard knew very well of whom Wayfair spoke. The annoying man from the shipping yard office who’d blathered excuses about the Majestic. Richard knew the money paid to Gold had come out of Wayfair’s pocket. He’d discovered the connection during his search of the duke’s desk.

  “When Brant described his visitor to me, I knew exactly who was behind the threat.”

  “Threat? I merely requested clarification on the status of the Majestic. False information had been delivered that the ship and all its cargo were lost at sea.”

  “I know blackmail when I see it. Now the authorities are checking every ship owned by that company. My company.”

  Richard turned to face him fully, his anger resurfacing at the harm he’d caused Caroline and her family. “Anyone who cheats investors should be thoroughly investigated, regardless of their title. Don’t you agree?”

  The rage in the duke’s eyes was undeniable, as was the flush that rose in his face. “Do not ever presume you can best me at anything. In case you’re unaware, I hold certain information on your fiancée’s father that would ruin him. No doubt the blow would put him into an early grave.”

  An uneasy feeling in the pit of Richard’s stomach swelled until he nearly choked. Yet he needed to buy time. Time for Whitehall to break the codes in the messages, giving them proof to convict Wayfair.

  He needed the duke to keep his silence until then. Where did that leave him? Protecting Caroline and her family at all costs. That didn’t mean he liked the idea of cooperating with Wayfair for any reason. “Be careful how you tread. The consequences could be dire.”

  “I know exactly where I’m treading. I only hope Miss Gold doesn’t come to harm as I move along.”

  “Are you threatening her?”

  Wayfair lifted one shoulder. “Accidents happen. How terrible if she were the victim of one.”

  Richard clenched his jaw, feeling the duke’s vise close tight. He could think of no way out of this without causing harm.

  “Wouldn’t it be a shame if the pretty lady died a painful death? Tsk. Tsk.”

  His mind grew numb at the image the duke painted.

  The nasty smile on the duke’s thin lips confirmed he knew he’d won. “I need you to do something for me this evening. It will only take a few minutes of your time, but know I’ll be closely watching to see how well you perform the task.”

  Richard didn’t bother to answer, only waited to see what the man would say next.

  ~*~

  Caroline found Richard’s tall form immediately upon entering the Bosfords’ musicale. She’d been anxious for this moment all day. After much thought, she’d decided to tell Richard exactly what the duke had said to her last night. If she wanted Richard to trust her with his secrets, she couldn’t continue to keep her own.

  Including the most important secret of all—that she loved him.

  She’d come to the realization that she wanted a real marriage with him, and that meant honesty. Starting out on the right foot should’ve come the night on that garden terrace, but due to the unfortunate circumstances in which they’d found themselves, everything had gone awry.

  She intended to end that this very night by stealing a few private minutes with him to tell him what was in her heart.

  But the light that filled her at the sight of him was quickly extinguished.

  He spoke to Lady Mintford, holding her gloved hand before him as though it were a precious object. His head was bent toward her, a charming smile on his lips.

  The lady’s eyes widened at whatever Richard had said, and she tilted her head back as she laughed. Then she reached up to pat Richard’s cheek, her forward behavior causing a lump to form in Caroline’s chest.

  “Isn’t that Aberland?” her mother asked. “Why is he speaking with Lady Mintford in that manner?”

  Caroline swallowed back the hurt rolling through her. If her mother had noticed his inappropriate behavior, then Caroline couldn’t pretend she misinterpreted the situation. Why would he act like that? “I have no idea.”

  “I’ve never cared for that woman. Go see what he’s about, Caroline.” Any other time, the determined glint in her mother’s eyes would’ve amused Caroline. But not this time. Not with dread sweeping through her.

  Caroline approached the couple with a sinking heart, terribly confused, feeling like an outsider. How could this be the same man who’d held her so tenderly, so passionately in the carriage last evening?

  Richard glanced up, guilt tightening his expression as he cleared his throat. “Oh. Hello, there.”

  The knowing look in Lady Mintford’s gaze did nothing to increase Caroline’s confidence. The way the pair looked at her, she had the distinct impression a jest or two had been spoken at her expense.

  Doing her best to hide her hurt, she curtsied. “Good evening. I was hoping to find you here,” she said to Richard, choosing to ignore the lady.

  “Oh?” His arched brow made it appear he was surprised at her statement. He turned back to Lady Mintford. “Would you excuse us for a moment? I need to have a word with...her.” He raised the lady’s gloved hand to his lips, his smile back in place when he looked at the woman.

  Caroline could hardly breathe. She wanted to go back out the door and come in again, certain she’d entered some strange world where everything she secretly feared had come to life before her very eyes. If she tried again, surely she’d see all of this was a terrible mistake.

  The coolness of his eyes as he at last glanced at her again squeezed her heart. “Over here should suffice.” He pointed toward a corner of the room where a large potted fern would allow them limited privacy.r />
  She noticed that he didn’t touch her, didn’t tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow and hold it tight. Hadn’t he done that just last night?

  “I’ve decided it best if I move on,” he said the moment they reached the fern.

  “What?”

  “I thought perhaps this,” he paused to gesture between them, “might work, but I’ve realized I prefer more sophisticated and experienced women. Women with less family drama.” The sympathetic smile he gave her squeezed her heart even more. “I’m certain you understand.”

  “No. Actually, I don’t.”

  His expression sobered. “I think we’ve both known from the start that there would never truly be a wedding. Don’t you agree?”

  She stilled, her mind and body numb. At last, she nodded, the movement jerky. She couldn’t deny the truth of that.

  “Of course, you should blame me when you call off our engagement. With my reputation, no doubt you’ll receive much sympathy. Perhaps even an offer from someone with wealth. That’s all you’ve ever wanted, isn’t that right?”

  She stared at him, trying to process what he’d said. But it was what she saw in his eyes that made no sense. The raw pain in their depths had her reaching for him, to tell him she knew this was all a lie. That he should stop.

  He jerked back as though he couldn’t bear her touch. “This is for the best. You’ll see.” With a quick nod, he left her standing there alone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next evening, Richard eyed the lattice work in Wayfair’s elaborate garden, hoping it would hold him. He’d spent the entire day hounding the halls of Whitehall, insisting the code breakers try harder. He’d even attempted to study the messages himself, determined to unveil their secrets.

  They’d shown him nothing.

  Perhaps if the hurt in Caroline’s green eyes hadn’t haunted him, he might’ve been able to think clearly.

  Damn Wayfair.

  He’d uttered the oath so often that it now came naturally with each breath he drew.