Behind the Mask (House of Lords)

by Brooke, Meg

  “I expect you are right,” Strathmore said. “It will be good to have Crawley here, then.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because he knows about plants and herbs and all those things. His father was something of a botanist, apparently.”

  A faint memory stirred. “Is his father a professor at Cambridge?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Henson Crawley?”

  “That’s the name,” Strathmore said, nodding.

  “Henson Crawley is one of the foremost experts on botany and herbology in the country,” Colin said. “If he passed even a tenth of his knowledge and expertise on to his son, Crawley will be a positive boon.”

  “I can’t say that he spoke of the man much when we were in Algeria together,” Strathmore said. “I think he’s the sort who has something to prove, you know. Wants everyone to know he can do it alone.”

  Colin laughed wryly. “Does the foreign service take any other kind of man?”

  “Now that you mention it, no, I don’t believe they do,” Strathmore said, also smiling. “This is becoming more and more complex by the minute,” he said.

  Feeling on the verge of being overwhelmed, Colin collapsed into a chair. Pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile effort to fend off a headache, he asked, “Have you organized the patrols yet?”

  “I’m going out to lead the first one now,” Strathmore replied.

  “Very good,” Colin said. “I suppose I had better go and speak with my fiancée.”

  Strathmore went out, and Colin tried to persuade himself to get up. It was barely eleven o’clock and yet he felt exhausted. He supposed he deserved it; there were assassins on the loose and a traitor in their midst. On top of all that, tomorrow was his wedding day.

  Finally he managed to force himself out of his chair and into the salon. But just as he was about to go up the stairs he saw Maris at the top. “Are you looking for Elly?” she asked.

  Colin nodded, wondering if Eleanor liked being called Elly. He suspected that Maris used the nickname specifically because she knew her sister would rather not be called by it. “Do you know where she is?” he asked.

  “You’ve just missed her, I’m afraid. She’s gone to Havenhall with mother. She insisted they go and tell Mrs. Hollier about the wedding. Mother did, that is. Eleanor would never willingly do something so vapid.”

  Colin had to smile at that, even though he knew it was not polite to agree with Maris’s assessment. Still, it meant that he had earned a few hours more to prepare for the princess’s visit. “Has your brother left for Norwich already?”

  “Not yet,” Leo said, appearing beside his sister. He was dressed for a ride. “Want to come along?” he asked, though it was clear that it was not really a question.

  Colin considered a moment. Strathmore seemed to have everything in hand, and a ride would clear his head, though having to apply for a special license had never been high on his list of aspirations in life. Still, he could hardly refuse. “Certainly,” he said. Leo nodded curtly and led him back out into the stableyard.

  SIXTEEN

  “Mother, are you sure this is a good idea?” Eleanor asked as the carriage rolled down the drive towards Havenhall. She wrung her hands and stared out the window as the red brick facade drew nearer.

  “Bess Hollier and I have been friends for thirty years, Eleanor. She has known you since you were born. She would be deeply hurt not to see you married,” her mother said, her tone implying that any further argument would prove fruitless.

  Still, Eleanor could not resist adding, “Even if it is not to her son?”

  Lady Sidney sighed. “I made the right choice then, Eleanor, much though it hurt me to do so. Toby Hollier was in no position to support a wife and family, and it would have been irresponsible of me to allow you to enter an engagement that might carry on for years with a man five years older than you.”

  Eleanor did not bother to argue that there was more than a five year age difference between her and Colin. She did not wish her mother to think that she was unhappy to be marrying him tomorrow. It would only make an already fraught situation more stressful, and there was still the princess’s visit to be survived, both literally and figuratively.

  The carriage slowed and then stopped outside the front door. A footman came to show them in, and then the Holliers’ housekeeper led them into the drawing room, where Mrs. Hollier was waiting. The woman stood eagerly and smiled warmly at her guests, and Eleanor felt a sudden twinge of regret for what her mother was about to do. There was no way to stop it, of course—despite the fact that she detested parties and balls and the other trappings of society, Lady Sidney was not above subscribing to social conventions, and Eleanor knew that it had rankled to see Mrs. Hollier’s two daughters married before her own, for all that Grace and Anna were six and three years older than Eleanor. Still, Eleanor was also aware that Mrs. Hollier’s chief ambitions had not been for her daughters but for her son, whom she had hoped to see married to one of the daughters of her old friend. Five years ago it had been his lack of fortune that had thwarted those dreams. Now they would never come true.

  “Lydia,” Mrs. Hollier said, holding out her hand. Eleanor’s mother took it. “And Eleanor. How good it is to see you both so soon. But I hope your visit does not interrupt the preparations?”

  “No, indeed,” Lady Sidney said. “In fact, we came with some exciting news.”

  “Oh?” Mrs. Hollier said, gesturing gracefully to the sofa. Eleanor sat beside her mother. Tea was called for.

  “There is to be a wedding at Sidney Park at last,” Eleanor’s mother said after everything had been settled.

  “Lord Sidney?” Mrs. Hollier asked.

  “No, dear: Eleanor! Lord Pierce has asked for her hand!”

  To Mrs. Hollier’s credit, she only lost her composure for the barest second. Then her face broke into a beatific smile. “Oh, Eleanor! How lovely. I am so pleased for you both. And when is the wedding to be?”

  “Tomorrow,” Eleanor managed, her throat suddenly very dry.

  Now Mrs. Hollier did look perturbed. “Tomorrow?” she repeated, looking from Eleanor to her mother and back.

  “Lord Pierce must return to his work on the Continent,” Lady Sidney explained smoothly. Eleanor watched her carefully. She had wondered how her mother would account for the suddenness of the wedding. “He works for the Foreign Office, you see, as a diplomat, and he hopes to return to Brussels immediately after the princess goes back to London.”

  “I see,” Mrs. Hollier said, though she did not sound convinced. Still, she smiled politely and inquired about what Eleanor would wear and what celebrations were planned. Eleanor’s mother issued an invitation to all the Holliers for the wedding ceremony and the breakfast to follow.

  “Though of course you will also receive a written invitation,” she said. Eleanor wondered when her mother had had time to write out invitations and how many people would be in attendance at her impromptu marriage ceremony. She had barely heard that the rector was available an hour before her mother had concocted this little jaunt to Havenhall.

  Just then the door opened and the one person whom Eleanor had hoped to avoid seeing strode in.

  “Toby, dear,” Mrs. Hollier said as her son came over to kiss her cheek. “Where have you been?”

  “I went out for a ride,” he said. “Good morning, Lady Sidney, Eleanor.”

  “Lady Sidney has just given me the best news, Toby. Eleanor is to be married tomorrow.”

  Everyone looked intently at Toby’s face as he processed this information. Eleanor held her breath. At last, Toby said, “Congratulations, Eleanor. Who is the lucky man?”

  “Lord Colin Pierce,” Eleanor said, surprised that she could manage to speak at all. Her heart was hammering in her chest. It was true that she did not love Toby, that she probably would never have loved him, but she still had no desire to hurt him, and from the way he was looking at her she had.

  “My goodness,”
Toby said, his tone suddenly spiteful, “he moves quickly, doesn’t he?”

  Eleanor knew she flinched at the remark. She saw her mother wince.

  Mrs. Hollier said, “Toby, that is unkind.”

  He did not look at Eleanor. “Of course. Forgive me.” Then he turned and went out, the door slamming behind him. All three women jumped at the sound.

  For a long moment no one spoke. Finally, Eleanor’s mother rose. “I think we had better be going. There is still so much to do,” she said tactfully.

  “Please,” Mrs. Hollier begged, getting up as well, “don’t be angry with Toby, Eleanor. It has not been easy for him, coming home. Something happened to him in Algeria, something—”

  “Algeria?” Eleanor asked, staring at her.

  Mrs. Hollier nodded. “Didn’t you know he was sent there? He’s been there the last year or more, negotiating a partnership with the French.”

  “I didn’t know,” Eleanor said. “He...he never wrote to me, you see.”

  “Didn’t he?” Mrs. Hollier asked absently, her gaze fixed on the door. Her voice became soft and distant. “He has turned into a stranger.”

  Lady Sidney made their excuses and led Eleanor out to the carriage. Mrs. Hollier followed them, her face drawn and tight. “We will come for the wedding, of course, Eleanor. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She appeared to be trying to smile, but her expression was pained.

  “Thank you,” Eleanor said as warmly as she could. Then she climbed into the carriage, certain that if she had to look into Mrs. Hollier’s sad eyes a moment longer she would cry herself.

  It was only as the carriage was rolling back down the drive that Lady Sidney said, “I told him not to write to you.”

  Eleanor blinked at her a moment. “What did you say?” she asked at last.

  Her mother turned away from the window and fixed a level gaze upon Eleanor. “I told Toby Hollier not to write to you. I told him to give you some space, that if the two of you were truly meant to be together you would wait for him.”

  “And now I am to be married, within a month of his returning to England,” Eleanor said. “It does seem rather unfair, especially if he still had any feelings for me.”

  “His mother gave me the impression that was the case.”

  Eleanor put her head in her hands.

  “You mustn’t blame yourself, dear. I did what I thought was best at the time, but if anyone is at fault, it is I.”

  “It’s all right, mother,” Eleanor said, not looking up. “We would not have been happy together. Or, at least, I would not have been happy. I’m convinced of that.”

  “And do you think you will be happy with Lord Pierce?”

  Now Eleanor raised her head. “Do you know, mother, I think there might actually be a decent chance of it.”

  Her mother smiled. “Well, that’s a start, at least.”

  They were met by a patrol of militiamen accompanied by Mr. Strathmore as they drove into the valley. Mr. Strathmore waved as they drove past, giving them a confident smile. Still, the thought of the militia patrolling the Park made Eleanor rather nervous.

  She did not have much time to dwell on her fear, however. When they reached the house, Mrs. Clarence was waiting for her with a list of menus for her approval and another list of concerns about the forty militiamen now quartered behind the stables. Leo had gone to Norwich, apparently accompanied by Colin, so it fell to Eleanor to see to the housekeeper’s concerns. They went into the library and sat down at the great table to get started. The next time Eleanor glanced at the clock, it was time to dress for dinner.

  Leo spoke hardly a word the entire journey to Norwich. Colin was content to ride quietly beside him. It would be about the only time he would get to think for the next week, and there were a great many things to consider. First and foremost, however, he wanted to turn his attention to the problem of Eleanor.

  No, he reminded himself, she was not a problem. In many ways he knew she was probably the best thing that could have happened to him. But she had come as quite a surprise, and to suddenly have a wife at his side was certain to shake up any man’s world. Colin had not even begun to think of what would happen when the week was over, when they were man and wife and there was no longer a looming danger to be confronted.

  He would take her back to Brussels, he supposed. First he would have to take her to Townsley, of course. That could not be avoided. It would be beyond his mother’s ability to tolerate if he did not bring his new bride to meet her in-laws, to receive their stamp of approval. He was not afraid they would dislike her, of course. Leo was right: it was impossible for anyone to find Eleanor anything but correct. It was not for her sake that Colin dreaded a return to Townsley, but for his own. He was not certain he could endure the embarrassment of introducing a woman he respected and admired to parents who had always been disappointed in him. Still, there was nothing for it. The journey would have to be undertaken. He was sure she would shine.

  And after that, well, she would take the Continent by storm. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be adored by everyone she met there. She was just the sort of intellectual, charming woman people in Brussels fell in love with.

  Indeed, Colin was well on his way to falling in love with her himself.

  He knew his face turned rather red as the thoughts that had coursed through his mind the night before in the library returned. He had felt lust, of course. She was a desirable woman, beautiful and poised and far more sexual than he had imagined. But it was not those things that had made him lose himself so completely. In that moment when she had turned to him with that sultry gaze, he had marveled at the fact that a woman like her, so perfect that it was almost unbearable, wanted him. He had felt the need, the wanting that had nearly driven him mad. But he had also felt profoundly grateful for the gift she had given him.

  And what could he give her in return? He was taking her away from her family, with whom she obviously shared very close ties. He was forcing her to leave her home, to abandon everything she had known and follow him into an uncertain future. Perhaps it was for those reasons that what had happened in the library surprised him so much. Colin could not quite understand why Eleanor did not despise him for trapping her.

  He still had not managed to puzzle it out by the time they reached Norwich. He had difficulty articulating his request to the bishop, though it did not really matter. His name and Leo’s provided plenty of pressure, and within thirty minutes they had the special license, which meant that they could avoid the necessity of having the banns read. Leo laughingly remarked that he seemed to have been involved in a great many weddings by special license in the last year, though he did not explain the curious statement. Instead, he fell silent again until they were out on the open road.

  As they descended back into the Broads, Leo finally said, “Do you have any new information about the assassins?”

  Colin shrugged. “Bits and pieces. Nothing that I can quite put together yet. I visited the village doctor this morning. He told me that there is evidence that Yates was killed by an overdose of valerian.”

  “You mean that he was poisoned?” Leo asked. “How very odd.”

  “My thoughts exactly. But it appears that that is what killed him.”

  Leo stared into the distance. “Isn’t it rather strange for a group of assassins to torture a man and then poison him?”

  “Now we’ve reached the murky waters where I’ve become mired,” Colin said. “You got there much more quickly than I did. I don’t suppose you’d like a job with the Foreign Service, would you?”

  Leo laughed. “I’m not cut out for espionage, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m not a spy, you know,” Colin said, realizing that there was a serious concern behind the flippant remark. “My work will never put Eleanor in danger.”

  Now Leo slowed his horse and turned to look at him. “I’ve heard stories to the contrary.”

  “Stories?” Colin asked. “Or just one?”

  Le
o leveled a solemn gaze at him. “I saw Lord Pennethorne at Hafeley,” he said.

  Colin swore.

  “I knew he had worked for the Foreign Service. I asked him if he knew you.”

  “He was more than happy to tell you exactly how we are acquainted, I suppose.”

  “Give him a little more credit than that, Colin,” Leo said. “He was rather reluctant to tell me any of the story. But I insisted. It was clear that he knew something, and even though I have not always been an ideal brother, I do mean to protect my sisters from harm if I can.”

  Colin sighed. “So you know it all, then.”

  “I know what Pennethorne was willing to tell me.”

  “Since it was he who came in to clean up the mess I made, I suppose he knows more than anyone else at the Foreign Office.”

  “It’s all true, then?”

  Colin nodded grimly. “It’s all true. A woman is dead because of the mistakes I made.”

  “But she was—”

  “It doesn’t matter what she was. She didn’t deserve to die. And even if the Russians did, that doesn’t mean I ought to take pride in having killed them. I suppose I could argue that I was forced into it, but it all happened because of my foolish mistakes, my hubris.”

  “That may be true,” Leo said, “but it is not the Russian spies who concern me. It is the woman.”

  Colin looked down at his hands. His knuckles were white where they clenched the reins. “I promise you, I learned from those mistakes. Nothing like that will ever happen again.”

  Leo smiled. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that I knew all this when I insisted that you marry my sister?”

  It had not, and Colin said as much.

  “I have faith in you, Colin. So does Pennethorne, though I suppose that means very little to you.”

  Shaking his head, Colin said, “I suppose not. But your trust does matter to me. You are Eleanor’s brother. You are her guardian. I want you to approve of our marriage. Your support means everything to her, and, consequently, to me.”