The Regency Season

by Ann Lethbridge

She shot him a brief glance. ‘No. Who can tell when it will end?’ She lifted her face to look at the sky and lowered it swiftly, using the wide brim of her hat to shield her from the slash of rain.

  ‘Let us hope it lets up before the night of the ball,’ he said for something to say, some way to keep the conversation going. Clouds and rain would mean only those who had been invited to stay overnight would attend. ‘The locals will be disappointed.’

  When Mother had observed the weather this morning, she’d suggested a postponement. He’d vetoed the idea immediately, despite his betrothed’s hopeful expression. Something he hadn’t anticipated after their intimate relations. Clearly they had not meant as much to her as they had to him. A bitter thought.

  ‘I would have thought you would have preferred a postponement,’ she said, as if she had read his thoughts.

  The words were delivered in a light tone but they were edged with wariness. He bared his teeth in a predatory smile. ‘Certainly not. The sooner we celebrate our engagement, the sooner we can be married.’

  She leaned forward to pat the dripping-wet neck of her mount, hiding her expression. ‘Are you sure you want a wedding?’

  So they were going to have this conversation now. He stared at the track ahead, taking account of the deeper ruts and higher spots, while he formulated words little more civilised than You’re mine, which had risen instantly to his tongue. ‘There is no reason I know of why I should not.’

  Her head whipped around, her eyes wide. ‘You don’t care, then, that I do not come to you intacta?’

  He gave her a hard look, because she was right. Under society’s rules, lack of virginity was grounds for a man to walk away, and no doubt that had been her plan in giving in to his importunity. He, however, wasn’t going to let her use it as a weapon or an excuse. ‘Do you care that I do not come to you that way?’

  ‘A different thing for a man,’ she muttered. Then smiled a little ruefully. ‘Though I cannot help feeling it is unfair.’

  A chuckle pushed past his reservations. Her ability to surprise him shook him free of dark thoughts. ‘It seems we are well matched in our experience. And given a choice between the pleasure of last night and the task of teaching an innocent, I would take last night every time.’

  Her eyes showed relief, quickly hidden by a brittle smile. ‘All you care about, sir, is winning.’ Her expression froze as she realised the import of her words. She winced and gave him a worried look that told him she believed he could well have deliberately forced his brother off the road.

  The joy went out of the day. It was back to rainy and chilly and dark and the dull ache deep in his ankle. He held her gaze. ‘Never forget it.’

  They reached the entrance to the woods and he urged his horse into a trot that made further talk impossible.

  * * *

  Nom d’un nom. She had not intended to imply that she thought he was responsible for his brother’s death. She didn’t believe it for a moment. Her ill-thought-out words had sounded too much like the doubts he had expressed the previous evening and he had jumped to the conclusion she had doubts, too.

  It would be so easy to use his guilt against him. His mother did it all the time. A horrid female trick she would not resort to in order to get her way. It was too cruel. Too destructive.

  No. When she cried off, the flaw would be hers. He had never been anything but a gentleman. Even last night, when he had learned she was not pure, he had treated her with respect. As well as given her more pleasure than she had ever experienced in her life.

  Pierre had been an expert lover, astonishingly so, and had taught her much. How to be wanton. How to be bold. How to use her femininity to achieve goals she had never dreamed of. His ultimate betrayal. Because she’d thought him her knight in shining armour. Her saviour. When, in truth, he had been the apple in the Garden of Eden.

  Freddy led them between large oaks and beech, the ground carpeted with loam and old leaves that muffled the sound of their horses’ hooves. When they slowed and entered a clearing, a man appeared from behind a tree, pistol at the ready, an alert expression on his face.

  His eyes widened a fraction at the sight of her then twinkled. He bowed. ‘Miss Rideau. A pleasure to meet you again.’

  ‘Mr Barker,’ she said, inclining her head. ‘Good day.’

  ‘Hardly,’ he growled, passing a hand down his face as if to sweep the raindrops away. Then he beamed at her. ‘But it does seem brighter for your presence.’

  Freddy dismounted, pulled at the strap fastening a saddlebag and a rolled bundle behind his saddle. He tossed them to Barker. ‘Do you have all you need?’ Freddy said, chill in his voice.

  The man opened the packs, sorting quickly through the contents. ‘This is everything I asked for.’

  ‘Good. Any sign of anything untoward?’

  ‘Nothing so far.’ Barker’s gaze returned to Freddy. ‘I’ll send the lad to you if we see anything out of place.’

  ‘You are letting a small boy sleep out in this weather?’ Minette was scandalised. She knew what it was to be cold and wet for hours at a time. She’d seen children die of chills.

  Freddy stiffened.

  ‘Now, then, missy,’ Barker said, his face glowering. ‘Think I don’t know how to build a bivouac? Nice and snug we’ll be. And the best of oilskins money can buy, too, thanks to His Grace.’

  Oh, dear. It seemed she’d insulted their competence. Both of them. ‘I should have known the two of you would be prepared for rain,’ she said by way of apology. ‘It always rains in England.’

  Barker bristled. ‘We get our share of good days.’

  Hopeless.

  ‘Watch your step,’ Freddy warned his man. ‘When they come, they will no doubt scout the area. They won’t want anyone straying onto them by mistake. I’ll ride out again after dark to inspect the perimeter around Falconwood that you’ll spend today setting up.’

  A small figure entered the clearing with a couple of rabbits strung on a stick over his shoulder. ‘Guv’nor.’ He strode over to his employer with a flash of crooked teeth and displayed his catch.

  Barker rolled his eyes. ‘I told you no hunting. We can’t light a fire. The coves we’re after will spot the smoke as quick as a wink. It’s cold beef and beer for us for the next couple of days.’

  The boy grimaced and held out his catch to Freddy. ‘You want them?’

  ‘I can see you want me hanged for poaching,’ Freddy said, taking the offering.

  ‘Nah,’ the lad said. ‘They’ll be your rabbits, I’m thinking.’

  ‘Yes. And don’t let my gamekeeper catch you snaring them, or you’ll find yourself in the local lock-up and that won’t suit my purposes at all.’

  ‘Sorry, Guv.’

  Freddy whipped off the lad’s cap, ruffled his hair. The boy backed up and smoothed his neatly cut hair, looking indignant but secretly pleased.

  Freddy tossed him his hat. ‘You’ll have your chance to catch rabbits when we are done here.’

  A grin split the lad’s face. ‘You mean it?’

  ‘Yes. If you manage to stay out of trouble and do exactly as Barker says for the next day or so.’

  ‘Agreed,’ the boy said, and stuck out a grubby paw.

  Freddy shook it without a flinch.

  He was good with the child. Kind. He would make an excellent father. Surprising when one considered his mother’s coldness. He was also an honourable man. A woman would be lucky have his love and his children. Little black-haired imps of Satan if they were anything like their father—or her, if she was honest. A pain speared her heart. They couldn’t be hers. Must not be. He would stick to his word and marry her, if she let him. But it wouldn’t be right.

  She’d lived the wrong sort of a life for a duchess. If any of it ever came to light, it would reflect badly on any man she married. Duke or otherwise.

  And it wasn’t as if they were in love or anything. Bedding him, finding truly amazing pleasure in his arms, didn’t mean love. It certainly did
n’t mean they had to marry.

  No, she was wedded to the idea of being a spinster and an aunt. She just had to convince Nicky it was so once she’d broken off the engagement.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jimmy, his tiger, came hours before the time Freddy had set to visit Barker.

  One of the grooms brought a message about his horse being in need of shoeing, a prearranged signal, while he and Minette were at dinner. Fortunately, Mother’s headache required her to take her dinner on a tray, as it usually did when he was home, so they could exit his apartment with no one being aware. As they crossed the courtyard to the stables, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing upwards. To his mother’s suite of rooms. Narrow chinks of light indicated she was still awake.

  The woman thought she was punishing him by not coming down to dinner. When he’d been young, her withdrawal had hurt. No longer. Her enmity had existed for too many years for him to care. Besides, she was giving him the hours he needed to spend with Minette. What would Mother do if she had any idea she was doing exactly as he wanted? Show up for dinner?

  Unlikely. Not even to thwart him would she spend any more time in his company than necessary.

  One thing she would not do was stop him from marrying Minette, despite her privately expressed disapproval.

  Jimmy jumped up from the table in the saddle room, where he was wolfing down what looked like stew when they walked through the door.

  With one eye on the stew and the other on Minette, Jimmy bowed. ‘Yer Grace. A man arrived at the farm half an hour before I left to find you.’

  ‘Eat,’ Minette said.

  Freddy nodded. ‘Get something hot inside you while you can.’

  ‘I know one thing, Guv,’ the boy said, a spoonful of steaming stew hovering before his lips. ‘I ain’t cut out to be a soldier. Nor a farmer neither. Sooner we gets back to Lunnon the better I’m goin’ to like it.’ He shoved the mouthful in, chewed methodically and swallowed. ‘Mind you, the vittles is good. I’ll give you that.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Freddy said. He waited for the boy to clean his dish with the last of his bread. ‘Now. The message.’

  ‘Three coves showed up when it was full dark and the moon wasn’t up. They’s bein’ very careful-like, Mr Barker says. They wasn’t so leery as Mr Barker didn’t see they was carrying barkers and a couple of long pops.’

  ‘Qu’est-ce que c’est?’ Minette said. ‘Dogs?’

  The boy laughed.

  ‘He means pistols and shotguns,’ Freddy said. ‘Go on.’

  ‘That’s it.’

  ‘How did they travel?’ Freddy asked. ‘Horse? Carriage?’

  ‘One drivin’ the carriage and a couple of outriders.’ He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. ‘One saddle horse, without a rider.’

  ‘So they have enough horses for three of them to ride.’ Freddy looked at her. ‘It’s a small force. The Regent is bound to come with a company of dragoons.’

  ‘Perhaps a member of government isn’t the target,’ Minette said.

  ‘Then who?’

  ‘Nicky?’

  Something in her voice made him look at her hard. ‘Why would you think so?’

  ‘He might be angry that she bested him.’

  ‘Revenge, you mean.’ Minette wanted revenge on Moreau for the death of her lover. The Frenchman wanted revenge on Nicky because she’d escaped his clutches. ‘It all sounds rather Gothic. This is war. He might have been bested by Nicky, but if he wants to rise in Napoleon’s favour he needs to do something to grab attention. That was his aim last time. The death or kidnapping of the wife of an earl won’t do him a scrap of good. Though I’m sorry to say it, since Nicky’s death would be a horrible blow to Gabe and to you, it won’t make a ripple as far as the war is concerned.’

  She worried her bottom lip with her teeth before speaking. He wanted to be the one to bite that full lip. He folded his arms across his chest to keep himself standing right where he was.

  ‘Only three men to capture or assassinate the Prince or someone in his party?’ she said finally, shaking her head. ‘Why bother when there are men aplenty to take their places? Yes, that, too, would make a stir but little difference.’

  ‘Honestly, I have no clue. Our best course is to ask them.’

  Her gaze rose to meet his face. ‘You will arrest them before they have a chance to do anything.’

  ‘No point in shutting the gate after the horse has gone.’

  She frowned. ‘Certainement, but I don’t see what escaped horses have to do with the matter we are discussing.’

  A weird feeling of tenderness he hadn’t known for years lodged in his throat. Heartbreaking in its sweetness. A small chuckle escaped his lips.

  Jimmy glanced up at the sound in surprise equalled only by that on Minette’s face.

  ‘It’s a colloquialism,’ he said, smiling. ‘We need to nip their plans in the bud. Stop them before find ourselves at point non plus.’

  ‘I see. Once captured you think they will tell you their plans?’

  ‘We’ll make sure of it.’ Once the men were taken, Sceptre would take charge of relieving them of their knowledge. It would be up to him to find the rest of the web of spies. The key would be for no one to learn that Moreau had been arrested. ‘As yet, we don’t know for certain that Moreau is among these men. I will need you to take a look at first light. In the meantime, we will get some sleep. You, too, young man,’ he said to Jimmy. ‘You can bed down here for the night. Barker won’t expect your return until morning.’

  ‘Aye, Guv. So he said.’

  Freddy took Minette’s arm and walked her back to the house. Against every instinct and baser urge, he delivered her to her chamber door and stepped back. ‘Get some rest. I’ll make sure your maid wakes you in time in the morning.’

  ‘What if Moreau is not there?’

  ‘Then we wait and we watch, and hope he comes.’

  He opened her door and thrust her inside, catching a glimpse of her waiting maid and walking away quickly before he changed his mind, sent her maid packing and undressed her himself.

  He needed to go and consult with Barker. Arrange things for the following day to his satisfaction. Minette would not be put in danger.

  * * *

  The weather was fair and fine, if a little chilly, the next morning when she and Freddy rode into the clearing. Her heart was beating very fast at the thought of seeing Moreau again. At the thought of retrieving the miniature. A trickle of sweat ran down her spine. Nerves. Because retrieving that little picture under Freddy’s nose was not going to be easy. She’d have to find an opportunity to go through Moreau’s things without raising suspicion.

  A sour-looking Barker rose from a log to greet them.

  ‘What is wrong?’ Freddy asked.

  ‘Loped off is what is wrong,’ the other man grumbled. ‘Some time after you left here last night.’

  Minette glared from one to the other. ‘You said you would not come here last night. What is this loped off?’

  ‘They’ve gone,’ Freddy said.

  Her stomach dropped so fast she felt sick. ‘You scared them away?’

  ‘No,’ Barker said slowly. ‘They’ll be back, but as yet I don’t know where they went.’

  Freddy swung down from the saddle to face his minion eye to eye. ‘You have someone following them.’

  Barker nodded. ‘I do.’

  ‘What makes you think they will be back?’ Minette asked.

  ‘They left the carriage and its horses, with enough feed and water for a couple of days.’

  Freddy shook his head. ‘Damnation.’

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘If he’s brought a carriage then I assume he means to use it to transport something or someone,’ he mused. ‘They must have been informed that the place is unoccupied so decided to make use of its nearness to Falconwood.’

  Her heart dipped. ‘And there is no Moreau conveniently waiting for his arrest.’

  ‘Apparently not.�
� He turned Barker. ‘I need you to send a man to London.’ He went to his saddlebag and pulled out a notepad, pencil and a little book. He took a seat on the log where Barker had been sitting and set to work composing a note using the little book as a reference. The note would be in code.

  ‘To whom do you write?’ she asked.

  He lifted his head and gave her an enigmatic smile. ‘No one you know.’

  He wasn’t going to trust her with that sort of information. Of course he wasn’t. The trust between them was a fragile thing and not yet complete. She certainly didn’t intend telling him all her secrets. Not unless she had to. She turned to Barker. ‘Did you search inside?’

  ‘Top to bottom. Nothing except the horses. They had no intention of staying.’

  She wanted to curse. They had been so certain they had their man in their net. ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘Wait for my man to report back,’ Barker said. ‘Keep watch for their return. Guard Falconwood.’

  A mocking smile curved Freddy’s lips and lit his eyes. ‘In the meantime, my guests are due to arrive and I am tied to the house.’

  A terrible thought occurred to her, and her hands tightened on the reins. ‘You don’t think I am part of Moreau’s plot?’

  He hesitated a fraction too long. ‘I don’t know.’

  At least he was being honest, but it hurt. Deeply. That he would think she would betray him. ‘I am not.’

  ‘There are a few too many coincidences for my liking.’ He tore a leaf from the notebook and handed it to Barker. ‘Get this to our contact right away. Make sure your man is not followed.’

  Barker touched his forelock and disappeared into the woods.

  Freddy mounted up, his face grim.

  ‘You do think I had something to do with it,’ she said.

  ‘I know you are at the centre of what Moreau is plotting. I know there are things you have not told me. That is all I know.’

  Heat seared her face at the sound of his anger. She felt as if she had been slapped. She urged her horse up close to him. ‘If you think I would do anything to put my sister’s life in danger, you really do not know me very well.’

  He gave a weary shake of his head. ‘You misunderstand my meaning.’