The Duke Conspiracy (29 page)

“Understandable fears, Your Grace,” Wesley
acknowledged before reasoning, “But even if they do send her
packing back to the wilds of their estate, they would have to allow
her a little bit of time for packing. And I would imagine they
would not send her off when she is bound to end up driving in the
dead of night, so she would have at least until tomorrow morning.
Surely, not to place too fine a point upon my own importance, but I
am
a viscount—they would allow me a few moments of her time,
no matter how frustrated they might be with their errant
daughter.”

Alex finally found reason for mirth and he
let out a loud guffaw over his friend's words. “You are a complete
hand, my lord. Thank you for that reminder. Lord and Lady Smythe
might, in fact, view you in the form of a savior, and they would be
delighted to bundle her up into your carriage for a ride. That is,
as long as they do not remember that we are such good friends.”

Wesley waved away the duke's concern. “I am
known to be a highly sociable creature, one who has many varying
friendships. They shall not dwell overmuch upon our connection I am
sure.”

Alex was not fully convinced, but they lacked
any other plan so there was naught he could do. He had plans to
ride around to visit his solicitors once more and engage their
assistance in finding out Broderick's schemes, now that it was
determined that they were not directed at the duke personally but,
in fact, the entire government. Alex bade a hasty goodbye to Lord
Dunbar and hurried about his own preparations.

“I shall wish you luck, then, Your Grace,”
Wesley said jauntily before making his way to the door.

“And you as well,” came the heavier
reply.

Alex stood watching the door as the viscount
left nearly as swiftly as he had arrived. Thanking the heavens for
the comfortable friendship, the duke pulled the bell for his butler
as he strode from the room.

“See that my phaeton is brought round and
ready in fifteen minutes, I have to go out forthwith.”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

Rose had collected her maid from the foyer of
Burlington House, where Mary had been happily flirting with a
footman.

“I beg your pardon, Miss, I should have been
more attentive to you,” Mary was stammering, hurrying along in
Rose's wake, mistaking her haste for anger.

Rose stopped abruptly. “No pardon is needed,
Mary, I can assure you. I am certainly not angry with you, whatever
gave you that impression?”

“You are very quiet, Miss Rose, and going as
fast your skirts will allow. Besides, the pinched look about your
mouth made me think you weren't in the best humor.”

Rose had to laugh over her maid's words. “I
apologize, Mary, if I was going too fast. I have a task ahead of me
that I am not at all looking forward to and I would like it to be
over and done with. But that very same task requires some planning
and I am worried about it, thus my quietness and perhaps a pinched
look that I did not realize I was sporting. Thank you for reminding
me that my feelings write themselves upon my face. I really must
make a greater effort at being stoic.”

Now Mary laughed, “Oh no, Miss, you certainly
do not owe me any apologies, to be sure. What has you so troubled?
Is there anything I can help you with? Does it have anything to do
with the duke, Miss?”

“Yes and no, Mary. I do not think there is
anything you can do to help me with this one. The duke and I agreed
that this is a far greater problem than the two of us can handle on
our own, and now is the time to apprise my father of the situation.
I fear you will be assigned to help me pack my bags when my parents
ship me back to the estate in disgrace over my association with
Wrentham.” Rose could not even bring herself to say his name at
this point as all her tumultuous feelings came back to the fore and
she remembered the brief kiss they shared before she smacked his
face. Hoping her face was not once more displaying her confused
feelings, she shoved the thoughts to the back of her mind to be
mulled over later. Now she had to concentrate on what to tell her
father. She was relieved that they were nearly home.

“I cannot say I am sorry that you will be
telling his lordship about this mess, Miss. I have not been easy
with you traipsing around with the Duke of Wrentham messing with
the likes of Sir Jason Broderick. Much better it is for Lord Smythe
to be involved.”

“You are quite correct, Mary. Now we had best
hurry along. My mother mentioned that Papa is to leave for Paris. I
dearly hope I have not missed him.”

“But surely he would not depart without
saying farewell to you,” Mary protested.

“My father is far too busy to be concerned
about such things, Mary.”

“Yes, of course, Miss. Let's hurry along
then,” Mary agreed simply, lifting her skirts in order to be able
to keep up with the long-legged strides of her mistress.

Endeavoring for decorum, Rose refrained from
taking the stairs two at a time and took a deep breath before
opening the door.

“Has my father left yet, Walter?” she asked
as the butler was helping her with her coat.

“No, Miss, he is in his study. He is getting
everything ready for an early morning departure for Paris, Miss. He
asked that he not be disturbed as he has so many things that need
to be done before he leaves.”

“Thank you, Walter, I will try my best not to
take too much of his time, but I really do need to speak with him
on a matter of some urgency,” Rose would not be deterred despite
the sinking feeling in her nervous stomach.

Feeling as though birds had joined the
butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Rose tried to ignore her
shaking limbs as she made her way to her father's study. Taking
another deep, steadying breath before she knocked, Rose waited to
hear her father's summons.

“Enter,” Lord Smythe called distractedly.

“Good morning, Papa, I hope I am not
disturbing you too terribly. Walter mentioned that you asked not to
be disturbed, but if you have a couple of minutes, I need to speak
to you about an urgent matter.”

Lord Smythe looked at his daughter in
surprise. Her tone must have conveyed the pent up anxiety she was
feeling, even though she had striven for an air of light inquiry.
Putting down his pen, the baron rose from his chair and came around
his desk to grab his daughter's hand.

“I know I am often preoccupied, my dear, but
I will never be too busy for you. Please, have a seat here beside
me and tell me what concerns you.” He seated her in one of the two
chairs situated in front of his desk and he perched himself on the
edge of the other one, keeping her cold hand in his as his worry
mounted over the look in his daughter's eyes.

“You are making me nervous, my dear. Will I
have need of my brace of pistols?” he asked, hoping to lighten the
mood.

“I dearly hope not,” Rose replied with a
shaky laugh. Now that her father was near and willing to take on
her burdens she felt an overwhelming urge to throw herself in his
arms and cry. Bracing her backbone and reminding herself she was a
fully competent woman, Rose lifted her chin proudly, took another
deep, fortifying breath, and then launched into speech.

“It is about Broderick, Papa. I fear the
scoundrel is up to no good and he has designs on the
government.”

The baron looked at his daughter with
amazement. “Whatever do you mean, my dear?”

“Remember I told you that I have seen him
about a little this Season? A new friend of mine, I am not sure if
you know her, Lady Yorkleigh, warned me away from him.”

“She is a good, sensible woman in that
case.”

“Yes, she does seem to be. She told me that
he wishes to gain control over the Prince Regent. I do not know
exactly what he is about, but I thought that you should know since
you are leaving Town. I am not sure if he means to attend the
congress in Paris or if he will remain here, but you know so much
more about these things than I do. I did not feel that this was a
matter that I could look after any longer.”

Lord Smythe was looking at his daughter with
puzzlement clearly written upon his features. “I feel as though I
have missed something in your explanation, my dear. I pray your
forgiveness for being daft, but none of this is anything new. The
knight has been a scoundrel for years. It is a wonder he is
accepted in polite society, but there is so rarely proof of his
schemes. But proof or not, we have always known of his designs upon
poor Prinny and his aspirations to control the government. Why does
this have you in such fidgets at this time?”

Rose had so wished she did not have to go
into any more details, but she realized now that was a futile
dream. She took another deep breath and pushed on with her
explanations. “I overheard him one night at a musicale I was
attending, scheming with someone.”

Lord Smythe gazed at his daughter, clearly
expecting more details. Rose could feel heat rising in her cheeks
and made herself plod on with her story. “He was speaking with Lord
Austen. As far as I can tell, the man is a dunce and needs to make
better choices in his companionship, but he is fairly innocent when
it comes to conspiring against the government. He is just another
pawn for Broderick to use. But it was very obvious to me that they
were up to no good.”

“When was this, my dear,” Lord Smythe
prodded. “And why did you decide to do the investigating on your
own, without keeping me informed of these developments immediately?
I still feel as though you are trying to withhold some pertinent
details.”

Rose realized it could be avoided no longer
so she blurted out the full facts. “The two of them were plotting
to entrap the Duke of Wrentham into a marriage alliance with Lord
Austen's daughter, Lady Anne. I did not want to tell you right away
because I feared you would dismiss my concerns about his schemes
due to Wrentham's involvement. I was hoping to discern if there was
truly a threat to anyone other than the duke himself before I came
to you with this.”

There was a heavy silence for several
heartbeats while Lord Smythe regarded his daughter steadily. “I
see,” he finally said heavily. “And how did you come to the
conclusion that there is a greater threat?” he asked, ignoring the
truth that his daughter had skirted—that he did not care a fig for
any threat against Wrentham.

“I spoke with Lady Anne and realized that
they had targeted Wrentham for reasons other than his wealth and
title.”

“Some would probably consider the cur to be
handsome,” the baron replied dully.

“True, but that still does not seem to be the
situation here, Papa. I truly feel as though this threat is not
about Alex,” seeing her father's reaction to the use of the duke's
name, Rose hastened to cover her verbal tracks. “It would seem that
Wrentham is taking his responsibilities seriously and has gotten
involved in the House of Lords. Lady Anne says he is well
connected. When I pried a bit deeper into her words I believe that,
although she thinks this has to do with how many relatives he
has—it was a term her father used. You and I both know that the
Wrenthams are not an overly large family, so this must be tied in
with the activities he has been engaging in politically. Lord
Austen does not care about such things, so it can only be Broderick
up to no good.”

“And what do you propose I do about it? You
were quite correct when you surmised that I would not give a fig
for any threat toward Wrentham,” Lord Smythe reminded his daughter
testily.

“But that is just the thing, Papa, I do not
believe the threat is really about the duke or even his wealth. I
think Broderick merely sees him as a means to an end, a tool as it
were, a means of getting to the Prince and influencing the workings
of our government.”

The baron eyed his daughter measuringly. “Are
you aware that I need to be leaving at first light for very
important negotiations in Paris?”

“Yes, Papa, that is why I felt the urgency to
tell you now, before you leave. I did not know what else to do. I
do not trust anyone else's discretion, knowledge, or intelligence,
Papa. I needed your advice before you left. Do you think this is a
serious threat, or am I full of feathers?”

The baron smiled over his daughter's choice
of words and scrubbed his hand over his face as he thought about
all the complications she had just thrown in his lap. Sighing
heavily he finally replied. “You did the right thing, daughter
dear. I know this could not have been easy for you. You are right
in thinking Broderick is a threat. He pretty much always is. Have
you told anyone else about this?”

Rose started slightly at his question and
tried to hide her guilty blush. She
so
did not want to tell
her father about her meetings with the duke. She attempted to
sidestep the question with half-truths. “I enlisted my friend Lady
Elizabeth to help me in making contact with Lady Anne. Elizabeth is
an earl's daughter and made her debut last year, so she is far more
socially connected than I am. She was able to perform the
introductions and help me tactfully question the other girl. I also
spoke with Lady Yorkleigh, but I did not tell her why I wanted to
know about Sir Broderick. I told her that my mother thought he
would be a good match for me and I needed something to tell her to
put her off. That wasn't untrue, but I did not think I ought to
confide the true motivation behind my questions. I am accustomed to
only telling you things, Papa. It has been troublesome to try to
work this out without your help.”

“Now we are getting to the crux of the
matter, are we not, Rosamund? Why did you not come to me with this
straight away? There is really very little I can do with just one
night. Have you thought of the problems that could ensue if
Broderick does not come to Paris? How can we set up safeguards so
quickly?”