England's Perfect Hero (39 page)

"Yes, she did." Robert pushed to his feet. "So you have the recovered papers there in front of you, and my story to weigh against Geoffrey's. And your own reputation to think about. I'll be in the library when you come to a decision about what to do."

"And then you'll go ahead and discredit Geoffrey and myself and go your merry way, laughing."

"No, I won't, because that would hurt Lucinda." He paused, wondering whether the general could hear in his voice how important that particular point was to him. "I will abide by whatever you decide," he continued. "The only thing I ask is that if you decide to blame me for all of this, you will make certain my family is cleared of any wrongdoing." What it would mean if soldiers came to his door to arrest him, he didn't know, but he did know that the choice rightfully needed to be left to General Augustus Barrett. And right and wrong, justice and iniquity, had come to be very important to him over the past few years.

He left the office, closing the door behind him. Lucinda sat on a couch in the library, her hands folded primly on her lap and her gaze out the window. Her knuckles showed white through her skin, and she practically vibrated with tension, but he supposed that anyone who didn't know her would think her the portrait of tranquil patience.

"Lucinda," he murmured, entering the room.

She swept to her feet. "What's happened?" she demanded, charging up and grabbing his sleeves in her fingers. "Did you find the papers? Geoffrey was here. I don't know everything that he told Papa, but he was trying to blame—"

Robert leaned down and covered her mouth with his. She felt so warm and alive—so different from the cold black story he'd just told her father. "I found the papers," he said quietly, tucking a straying lock of brown and copper hair behind her ear.

Lucinda wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. "Thank God," she breathed, her slender body shaking. "Thank God. I was so worried. When I saw Geoffrey here, I thought—I didn't know what to think."

He backed off a little to gaze at her face. It was becoming difficult for him to remember the grayness in his life before Luanda—everything seemed colored by her compassion and her beauty. If these rumors had occurred a year ago, he would simply have left. Nothing had mattered, nothing felt… real—until he'd spoken with Lucinda and her hopefulness had touched him. Even with his arms around her now, it wasn't enough. She felt so fragile, as though she might vanish into smoke if he closed his eyes. And yet he knew how strong she was, how caring and honest.

He wanted to tell her. Wanted to tell her how much he loved her. That, though, wouldn't be fair. She wanted to marry someone simple and amiable, someone of whom her father would approve, someone other than him.

"Robert," she whispered, her brow furrowing, "what is it?"

He forced a smile. "Nothing. I've left everything with your father. I suppose the next step is up to him."

"What did you tell him?"

"That was between two soldiers, Lucinda. I can't tell you."

General Barrett cleared his throat. They both turned to see him eyeing them and the way Robert had his arms around her waist, and she had hers around his shoulders. He would have pulled away, but Lucinda locked her fingers behind his neck, keeping him there.

In his own hands, the general held the stack of stolen papers. "Lucinda, Robert and I need to go somewhere."

Her heart froze. Robert's muscles stiffened beneath her fingers, but he didn't move otherwise. What had they talked about? What had her father decided? She was afraid to let Robert go; she had the terrifying feeling that she would never be able to hold him again. "Go where?" she asked.

"To the Horse Guards, an—"

"No, Papa! Robert didn't do it!"

Her father stretched out one hand. "I know that. Now." He glanced at Robert, and then back to her. "Will you do me a favor, Lucinda?"

For the first time, she wanted to ask what the favor might be before she agreed to anything. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she had always been able to trust him before. "Of course."

"I assume that the rest of your conspirators are at Carroway House?"

Robert nodded. "That's the designated meeting place."

"Good. Lucinda, I need you to go to Carroway House and ask the gentlemen there to locate Lord Geoffrey Newcombe. They're not to do anything but locate him, and send word back to Carroway House. Robert and I will be there shortly."

"You promise?"

"I promise." He cleared his throat again. "I may be a bit tardy, but I intend to do the right thing."

"I'll get my bonnet," Lucinda said, and hurried upstairs.

" 'The right thing,'" Robert repeated. "You know what that could do to you."

"If this is deemed to be my fault, I will face the consequences," the general answered. "At any rate, I will not let Geoffrey get away with this merely so I can save face."

Robert hadn't expected that. He'd thought at best that perhaps Geoffrey would make an unexpected trip to Australia or the Americas, and that the papers would magically turn up somewhere at the Horse Guards. He'd observed General Barrett over the years, looking for anything that would illustrate his boorishness and cowardice, or whatever it was that had caused him to send a patrol straight into an ambush. Perhaps he'd judged too harshly.

Lucinda reappeared in the doorway, out of breath and still practically shaking with tension. "I'll take Helena and the curricle. We'll get the search started."

"Be careful, Lucinda," Robert said.

To his surprise, she stopped halfway out the door and turned back. Striding straight up to him, she tugged on his hair to lower his face, and then kissed him soundly. "You be careful," she murmured, and was gone.

"Ahem."

The general stared at Robert, who gazed coolly back at him. He could draw whatever conclusions he chose; as far as he was concerned, Lucinda could tell whatever tale she chose about the two of them. Whatever
lay
between them, belonged to them—and no one else.

General Barrett had his gelding saddled, and the two of them rode in the direction of the Horse Guards. Neither spoke; Robert didn't want to, and Barrett obviously had a great deal on his mind.

"We had contradictory information," Barrett said abruptly, his eyes on the road ahead. "We were told that Thouvenot might make a run through St. Etienne the next morning. That's why I wanted information on any troop movement and cannon placement. If I'd known, I never would have sent out a lone patrol."

It wasn't an apology, but Robert wouldn't have accepted one, anyway. Instead he nodded. "What I told you about how I left Chateau Pagnon—that goes no further than the two of us."

"Agreed. I—It might be best if you waited in the foyer. You're not very popular here at the moment."

"It was never my aim to be popular at the Horse Guards." Swinging down from Tolley, Robert noted the suspicious looks from the sentries and otherwise ignored them. "I'll wait here."

The papers gripped in one hand, General Barrett strode into the building. Only to himself would Robert admit that he felt more comfortable staying close by Tolley, just in case he needed to make a quick escape. With its enclosed parade grounds, the Horse Guards looked far too like a prison for his taste. Hopefully the general would be quick and persuasive, and then they could figure out what they wanted to do with Geoffrey. And then he could figure out how to prevent Lucinda from setting her sights and aiming her lessons at someone else.

" Bit went to the Horse Guards?" Tristan demanded. "Voluntarily?"

Lucinda tried to catch her breath. She didn't think she'd ever driven so fast, but even with wings it would have felt too slow. Robert and her father needed help, and they'd put her in charge of arranging it. "My father promised they would be here as soon as possible. Please. We need to locate Geoffrey."

Evelyn and Saint had joined the group as well, and Wycliffe remained, along with all of the Carroway brothers and Georgie. Everyone had jammed into the frilly morning room, which was beginning to look a bit overcrowded.

"I suggest we fan out in teams of two," Bradshaw contributed. "That way if we find him, one of us can return here with word, and the other can keep an eye on him."

Dare nodded. "That sounds good. Wycliffe and me, Shaw and Andrew, Saint and—"

"You're not leaving me out," Lucinda stated, folding her arms. "There are places I can look, as well."

"We can look," Evie amended.

"I'm going, too!" Edward yelled.

Dawkins scratched at the door. "Begging your pardon, my lord," the butler said, squaring his shoulders, "but if there's anything I can do to help, I should like to volunteer, as well. And I believe most of the household and stable staff agrees with me."

"Whatever we do, we need to do it fast," Wycliffe said. "Once Geoffrey reaches home, he'll know we found the papers. He could be halfway to Bristol by now."

"I don't think so," Lucinda returned. "He seemed fairly confident that he'd managed to turn the suspicion back on Robert. If he were to run, he'd definitely look guilty. It's more likely he's out trying to do more damage." She blanched. "Or trying to convince Bow Street that Robert's a traitor and needs to be killed."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Tristan said, though his already serious expression became even grimmer. "All right. Dawkins, you stay here, to collect any information that comes back. We'll use grooms and footmen as our runners, but I think Georgie should remain."

"I'm going with Evie and Lucinda," the viscountess stated.

"I want Edward with me," Saint said, ruffling the boy's hair.

"But where are we going?" Edward wanted to know.

"I'll take White's," Wycliffe volunteered, "since half the Carroways are banned from the club. And the Society."

"We'll take the rest," Dare said, clapping Andrew on the arm. "And his house, in case he's still there."

"Bond Street," Evie suggested, and Lucinda nodded. It would be very like Geoffrey to go and purchase her a trinket to apologize to her once this mess had all been blamed on Robert. In addition, half the female population of Mayfair would be there at this time of morning; dozens of sympathetic ears for handsome Geoffrey's rumors.

"Piccadilly," Saint suggested.

"And I'll take Covent Garden." Bradshaw pulled on his riding gloves.

They headed out to the stables. While Dare helped Georgiana into Lucinda's curricle, she glanced at Robert's rose garden. One of the cuttings had actually sprouted buds. She smiled. Since she'd become involved with Robert she felt as though she'd bloomed, herself.

Dare handed her up. "The three of you be careful," he warned. "Geoffrey was ready to betray his country. I don't think he would hesitate to hurt one of you."

"Ha," Lucinda returned. "He'll wish he had the chance."

Taking up the reins, she clucked to her pair of grays, and they trotted down the drive. "I'm glad we're doing something," she said, after a few minutes of tense silence. "I don't think I could tolerate just sitting about, waiting to hear."

Seated in the back, Evie leaned forward between them. "Georgiana, guess what I saw at Tattersall's."

Lucinda blushed. "Evie, we're on a mission."

"What did you see?" Georgiana asked.

"I saw two people kissing. And not just kissing. Throwing their arms around each other and practically swooning to the ground."

"We were not swooning," Lucinda snapped, her face warming further.

Georgie looked at her, surprise and then comprehension dawning in her green eyes. "You and Bit," she said slowly.

"I—I don't know how it happened. He's just… he's remarkable," she stumbled. "So much more than he realizes."

"You might have told me," Georgiana returned. "How serious are you?"

So serious she couldn't sleep without dreaming of him, or go through a day without thinking about him every two minutes. So serious that if he had to flee the country, she would go with him, or follow. "I think that's between Robert and me."

"Luce, you can't—"

"Look, we're here," she said gratefully. "Geoffrey left Barrett House on his chestnut gelding."

"Let's drive up the street first, and then work our way back on foot."

On first glance she didn't see Geoffrey's chestnut, Hercules, but there were numerous alleys and side streets where a gentleman could leave a horse. At the far end of the street they stopped, hopping—and in Georgiana's case, carefully creeping—to the ground.

Every sense felt alert as Lucinda led the way through the shopping district. She wanted to be the one to find Geoffrey. He'd tried to destroy Robert. He'd courted her, and kissed her, and proposed to her, all the while plotting to sell classified information to France and begin another war. Another war where someone else might be hurt as Robert had been.

"Luce, slow down," Evie called from behind, where she walked arm in arm with Georgie.

"I don't want him to get away," she returned, glancing over her shoulder at her friends. When she faced forward again she stopped so abruptly they nearly ran into her. "There," she hissed.

The tail end of Geoffrey's gray coat vanished into a sweet shop. Backing up, the three friends ducked into the nearest alley.

"Are you certain that was him?" Georgie asked.

"Oh, yes."

Evie nodded. "All right. We can't race back with Georgie, so the two of you wait here, and I'll go tell Dawkins. I'll be back as soon as I can." With that the marchioness hurried up the alley.

"We need to keep an eye on him," Georgiana said, edging back toward the street. "If he leaves before anyone else gets here, we'll have to start the search all over again."

Lucinda took a deep breath, trying to still the nervous fluttering of her heart. It wasn't just she who was involved here. Georgiana was only a few weeks from giving birth, and the excitement couldn't be at all good for her. "Why don't you wait here, and I'll follow him?"

"We'll go together."

"Why don't we all take a walk?" Geoffrey's voice came from the alley entrance.

Oh, no
. Lucinda's first concern was for Georgiana, but when she glanced at the viscountess, her friend's expression was more angry than frightened. She shouldn't have been surprised. Robert had a special place in Georgie's heart, and Geoffrey had threatened him.

"Geoffrey," she said, thankful her voice sounded steady. "Thank goodness. Georgie was feeling a little faint. I do hope you're not so angry with me that you won't render us assistance."

With a nod, he strolled closer. "Of course I'll assist you," he returned. "Where did your friend Lady St. Aubyn go?"

"She went to fetch Dare," Lucinda answered. "We thought it would be easier to get Georgie home in their coach."

"Good thinking. Why don't we make for the Duke Cafe? We'll be able to have a seat there while you wait for reinforcements."

Lucinda didn't like the way he worded that, but as long as they were in public he wasn't likely to attempt anything dastardly. He took Georgiana's arm and led the way back to the mam thoroughfare.

She didn't think for a moment that he believed her, but as long as he went along with the deception they had time, and time was all they needed. At least seven gentlemen would be on their way in just a few minutes—unless, of course, something went wrong at the Horse Guards. Her throat tightened at the thought of Robert being arrested and dragged into a dark cell in one of the building's ample lower levels.

Whatever he'd told her father, the general had seemed to believe him. Her father, though, wasn't the only authority at the Horse Guards.
Please let Robert be all right
, she said to herself, even as she kept a close eye on Geoffrey. They all needed to get out of this in one piece—all of them except, perhaps, for Lord Geoffrey Newcombe.

Whatever Geoffrey had planned, he walked them to the cafe and sat between the two of them at one of the outdoor tables. To anyone else they must look just as he intended—a courting couple with their highly respectable chaperone. When he scooted his chair a little closer to her, however, she had to make herself stay where she was, keeping up the pretense of being pleased by his timely rescue. And then something hard touched her side, and she glanced down to see the distinctive outline of a pistol through his jacket pocket.

"Stay still, Luce," he murmured. "We're all friendly here."

"What are you doing?" she whispered back, noting from Georgie's widened eyes that she had seen the movement.

"Just waiting to see who comes to retrieve the two of you. A man has to protect his assets."

"With a pistol?"

He signaled a footman with his free hand. "Might we have some tea and biscuits?" he asked.

"Right away, my lord."

"Geoffrey, this is ridiculous. Yesterday we were discussing marriage."

"
I
was discussing marriage. You were apparently having a bit of fun at my expense. My home was broken into while we were at Tattersall's, you know."

"It was? My goodness! Did you inform the authorities?"

"I did. Thankfully, my servants were able to give a very good description of one of the participants." He turned his gaze on Georgie. "I'm sorry to tell you that it was your brother-in-law, Robert. Obviously he's completely lost his mind. I only hope he can be brought in peacefully for questioning. I would hate to see him shot and killed like a rabid dog."

Lucinda's fear evaporated. Abruptly she wanted to punch Lord Geoffrey very hard, and wipe the smug, confident smile off his handsome face. "If you harm him, you won't live to see prison," she said very quietly.

"My dear, people like me don't go to prison. We get thanked by the Prince Regent for our duty to the Crown, and we get our promotion and make our fortune, precisely as we planned."

Her father galloped around the corner, Dare and Bradshaw on either side.
Where was Robert? What had happened to Robert
?

"Well, this is interesting. No coach for our dear Lady Dare."

"They must have misunderstood."

"Newcombe!" her father bellowed. "Move away from the table."

"General Barrett? What in the world is wrong?" Geoffrey said, lifting an eyebrow. "Try to calm yourself, sir. Your daughter and I are merely having a chat. Perfectly respectable, I assure you."

The diners at the surrounding tables began muttering to one another, but Lucinda kept her eyes on her father, willing him to realize that Geoffrey held a weapon. Dare looked angry but not alarmed, his own attention on his pale-cheeked wife.

Lucinda forced a smile. "Good heavens, Papa. You look as though you expect a flurry of weapons fire or something. As Geoffrey said, we're just chatting."

Dare's face went white, and her father's jaw clenched. They understood, thank goodness. "Geoffrey, this is gaining you nothing," the general said, his voice controlled and compelling. "Why don't you come along with us? We only want to talk."

"I'm quite comfortable here, thank you. Where might your blackguard of a brother be, Dare? He's been saying some nasty things about me."

"He's under arrest at the Horse Guards because of you," Tristan returned. "Apparently now someone is accusing him of breaking into your house. I would like you to come with us to refute that."

"He
did
break into my house, no doubt in an attempt to plant the papers he stole from the Horse Guards."

"Geoffrey, put away your pistol, and we'll talk." General Barrett held out both hands, as though to show that he wasn't armed.

All around them, diners began evacuating the tables. In a moment the street was lined with people and they sat alone in the cafe, just the three of them and Geoffrey's pistol. At least he'd pointed it at
her
, Lucinda reflected, and not at Georgiana. Apparently murdering a pregnant viscountess was too much, even for a traitor.