My Lady, My Spy (Secrets and Seduction Book 4) (15 page)

A chill ran down Frederick’s spine. He didn’t like this talk of fate. Destiny. It went against everything he believed in. He relied on facts and details, not feelings and guesswork. He turned back toward the hidden door, and Robert stayed next to him. They pushed the door shut, hiding away the secrets once again.

Hadn’t his thoughts wandered in the same direction as Robert’s yesterday when he’d been in the conservatory? Hadn’t he been wondering about Lord Percival’s effect on his life? The fire had been caused by one small, careless movement, and it had changed his life.

No. He couldn’t accept it. Life couldn’t be that random.

“Coincidence,” Frederick said, dismissing the idea with a sharp shake of his head. “You embraced the changes in your life because you were ready to move on, not because of fate.”

Robert stared at him. “You’ve always said you don’t believe in coincidence.” He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t have it both ways.”

That irritated Frederick. He hated having his words thrown back at him. “You’re a bad influence on me. Fate. Coincidence. Bah. Next you’ll be talking about love.”

Love? Where had that come from? He could feel the heat rising in his face as he turned his back on his brother and stalked from the room.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Later that morning, Antonia’s court case went according to plan. Mr. Montlake handled it masterfully. Everything transpired exactly as Frederick had anticipated.

Of course, she’d won. Preparation was key. That, and a preponderance of evidence.

As they left the courtroom, Frederick patted his brother on the back and congratulated Antonia. She was jubilant, as well she deserved to be.

Frederick couldn’t help but notice that Robert and Antonia stayed close to one another. The backs of their hands frequently brushed together. Robert’s need to touch her was almost palpable. It radiated from the man. The next time the couple’s hands brushed, Robert’s fingers twitched as though he had to force himself not to entwine them with hers.

Interesting. Something had changed between them overnight. Apparently, Lady Huntley didn’t make a very good chaperone. After a single night under her supervision, Robert and Antonia had managed to move their relationship to a new level of intimacy.

Frederick took his brother by the arm. Robert left Antonia’s side with obvious reluctance. Their relationship would bear watching, but for now Frederick needed to keep his mind clear. He needed to focus on deciding what to do with the forgery.

“Collect the book,” Frederick murmured into his brother’s ear. “Keep it safe. My meeting should take a couple of hours, and by then I’ll know the best course to follow regarding the— other situation.” He certainly didn’t want to mention the forged Great Seal while standing just outside the door of Lord Tidmore’s courtroom.

“Shouldn’t the book take precedence?” Robert glanced around nervously.

Frederick weighed the risks. “I can’t be in two places at once. The man I must confide in is leaving London today. If I don’t speak to him now, I’ll be forced to wait a fortnight for my next opportunity. I don’t want the other matter to linger.” He considered the problem for a moment and then moved closer to his brother. “Deliver the book to Queen Victoria without delay. Don't let her think we postponed it. Not even for a moment.”

Frederick narrowed his eyes as he assessed his older brother. He liked the air of grim resolve he found.

Robert was up to the task. Of that, he had no doubt.

Frederick gave a sharp nod, turned, and hurried out the door.

§

Frederick quickly traversed the distance to King Charles Street. Luck was with him. Lord Cary was available when he arrived. For that, Frederick was thankful. If he hadn’t been able to catch the man here, he’d have been forced to try to track him down at the Ambridge Club.

“It’s good to see you.” Lord Cary smiled broadly as he rose from his chair behind his desk. “Did you reach a decision regarding the position?”

Frederick took a moment to change the direction of his thoughts. Of course, Lord Cary referred to the role of spymaster.

“I have. My brother and I recovered the church register, which he’s even now delivering to Queen Victoria. I’d be doing it myself if a new complication hadn’t arisen.”

Lord Cary’s eyebrows rose high. “It must be serious indeed for you to place the book in his care once again.”

Frederick didn’t answer. Instead he moved closer to the large window overlooking King Charles Street. He pushed aside the gentle drape of the heavy gray velvet curtain. Below him, carriages, riders, and pedestrians hurried past. Everyone seemed intent on reaching their destination without delay. Wind tugged at hats and cloaks, encouraging people to be on their way. No one had any interest in what he said in this room, not now. But that would change if they had an inkling of what he was about to reveal.

He turned to face Lord Cary. “I’m sure you’re aware of the scandal surrounding my father’s death.” He watched the man closely.

The spymaster nodded slowly. “More so than you might realize,” he replied. He kept his gaze level as he regarded Frederick.

Frederick relaxes slightly. “I’m relieved to hear it.” He took a step back and gathered his thoughts. After a moment, he glanced back up at Lord Cary again. “Can you explain what you already know so I can fill in the gaps? Be direct. Don’t worry about offending me.”

Lord Cary’s mouth tightened and he gave a terse nod. “I know your father intentionally manipulated the House of Lords regarding a railroad deal.” He watched Frederick closely, looking for a reaction, but Frederick kept his expression stoic. “The Queen suspects he and his business partners used a forgery of her Great Seal on his papers. The other two men denied any knowledge or involvement in the incident. Your father was on the verge of being arrested when he died. I suspect he knew this and chose to commit suicide instead. He left a letter naming a certain woman as his paramour, and he blamed her for his sudden despair. I never believed that particular story. I’m fairly certain she was either directly involved in the conspiracy, or she was blackmailing him— possibly both.” He paused. “Am I telling you anything you don’t already know?”

Frederick shook his head. “I’m here because of the forged Great Seal.” He took a breath. “My brother discovered it last night.”

Lord Cary stiffened in his chair. “Are you saying he actually found the forged item?”

“I held it in my hand this morning. It’s real.”

“What do you plan to do?”

Frederick tugged at his ear. “That’s why I’m here. I’m too close to this. Too much depends upon making the right decision. I can’t see a clear path through to the end, and I think it’s because my fear is preventing me from thinking logically. I need your guidance.”

Lord Cary leaned back in his chair and contemplated Frederick. “My guidance, eh? Well, my advice would depend upon what you hope to achieve. What’s your biggest fear? What is it you most want to avoid?”

“Public humiliation.” The words came out quickly, automatically. “For years I’ve been afraid that when the world found out my father committed treason, my family would be publicly reviled.”

Lord Cary nodded. “Forging the Great Seal is treason, there’s no doubt about it. Did you ever uncover anything that proves your father was directly involved in that part of the scheme? Any documents? Any testimony?”

Frederick paused. “I haven’t yet thoroughly examined the cache of items my brother discovered. The Great Seal was in one of the traveling bags Father hid in our house.” He recalled the way he’d fled from the room immediately following Robert’s revelation. He should have taken the time to investigate the bags more carefully. Money had been spilled all over the chamber floor, but no papers. Could there be incriminating documents inside those traveling bags? Frederick shook his head. “I didn’t see any, but I also failed to complete a thorough search. It’s possible I missed something.”

“That was careless, which is unlike you. You’re obviously shaken by this.”

“That’s why I’m here. As I said, I’m not thinking clearly.”

Lord Cary let out a heavy sigh. “The Queen has no desire for this story to resurface. It was a scandal fifteen years ago. One I’m sure she’d prefer not to revisit. In this, I believe your goals align with hers.”

“Should I tell her? Hand over the Great Seal?”

Lord Cary steepled his fingers. “It’s either that, or simply destroy it. We should consider that option as well.”

“But if I destroy it, the question of my father’s treason and the missing seal will never be resolved. It will always be a lingering question in the Queen’s mind. If she never knows what became of the forgery, can she let the question go? Can she ever come to trust me as her spymaster if she always wonders if I might have the seal?”

“Do you hope to earn her confidence by turning it over to her?” Lord Cary rubbed his hands together and then interlaced his fingers. “Yes. I can see how that could work in your favor. You’d have much to gain if she sees you as trustworthy.”

“My instincts tell me giving it to her is the best solution. Now that I’ve found the seal, I’d prefer to use it to close the books on my father’s crimes. Once the truth is out, I’ll be free of having to conceal them. I’ve hated shouldering that responsibility.”

Lord Cary rose to his feet. “In that case, I suggest you deliver the item to her without delay. You say your brother found the forgery last night. The longer you wait, the more suspicious you’ll appear if she learns about the timing. Resolve the matter immediately. If you turn it over on the heels of providing her with the church register, you’ll look heroic. The perfect candidate for the spymaster position.”

Frederick took a deep breath and let tension seep from his body as he exhaled. This was the path he’d tentatively decided upon. He’d been afraid he was letting his hopes for the future influence his decision, but Lord Cary’s agreement put his mind at ease. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“No thanks necessary. Go. Clear your conscience.” The corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile. “Confess your father’s sins to the Queen.”

§

“What’s this?” Josephine asked, glancing up as Taylor entered her office carrying a tray bearing a sealed envelope.

“I don’t know, m’lady, but the man who delivered it said it was urgent. He’s waiting for your reply.”

Josephine frowned as she used a slender letter opener to slice the edge of the envelope and then extracted the single slip of paper. The note was brief.

Dear Lady Harrington,

I most humbly beg permission to call on you this afternoon. My thoughts are with you in this difficult time. It is my most heartfelt desire to be told that you are not too distressed to see me.

Yours sincerely,

Monsieur LeCompte

Distressed? What could the man possibly mean by that?

She sighed as she weighed her options. Allowing the notorious gossip in her house might be a mistake. What if his overly dramatic letter was simply a ploy to convince her to let him in so he could pry into her affairs?

But what if it wasn’t?

She considered what the consequences might be if she rejected his request. A simple denial in itself was enough to elicit gossip if LeCompte manipulated the situation with skill. She glanced at the letter, that single word catching her eye again.
Distressed
. What if he started telling people that she refused to accept visitors? What if he offered speculation as to why? Had he learned of her tryst with Frederick? What if he offered up that tidbit for public consumption?

She tightened her grip on the letter opener. She couldn’t take the risk. She’d allow him to call if only to find out what he knew— or what he merely suspected.

An hour later, Josephine sat in her drawing room, working on a piece of needlepoint she kept for just this sort of situation. She hated waiting with nothing to do, but she was too distracted to read right now and Monsieur LeCompte wasn’t due to arrive for another fifteen minutes. She snipped off a length of bright pink floss and threaded her needle.

She’d had difficulty focusing on any task ever since leaving Frederick’s house yesterday. She’d made the right decision to sever her relationship with him, but that didn’t make her choice any easier to live with. Not when her heart was breaking. She poked her needle through the back of her fabric and drew it through with a broad sweep of her arm.

She might as well admit it to herself, even if not to him. She loved him. At least, she
had
loved him, for a time. Or perhaps she’d only loved the man she’d believed him to be, not the man he really was. Perhaps she’d only loved the phantom she’d conjured in her mind. The dream of what she’d believed him to be. Not the reality.

She couldn’t seem to let go of that dream.

Reality could be immensely distasteful.

She took another careful stitch.

Promptly at three o'clock, she spotted Monsieur LeCompte’s carriage depositing him in front of her townhouse. A gust nearly snatched away his top hat, but he caught it in time.

She tucked her needlepoint away in the small box on the end table and smoothed her blue skirts, brushing away a stray bit of the bright pink floss she’d been using.