Rose told herself she was imagining things as she nodded and followed Ellen upstairs.
Rose directed Brantford’s sister to her mother’s room and proceeded to her father’s bedroom. She told herself that what they were doing was necessary. They had to find something—anything—that would prove her father had confessed to his crime under coercion from an outside source. But it still felt wrong to be going through his things. She imagined there wouldn’t be much for Ellen to search since her mother had arranged to have her personal belongings sent to her aunt’s house in Essex.
Rose made quick work of opening drawers, examining the wardrobe, and even looking under the mattress. It was a habit to hide her own diary in the last place. Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry about Ellen or, heaven forbid, Brantford stumbling across it as her diary was now safely residing under the mattress in her guest bedroom at Overlea’s town house.
“We should search your room,” Ellen said from the doorway.
Rose frowned. “I already know what’s in my room, and there’s nothing of interest there.”
“Humor me,” Ellen said. “You’d be surprised what people hide in their children’s rooms, thinking no one would look there. I’ll finish in here.”
Rose looked around the room and shrugged before turning to leave.
“Look under the carpets,” Ellen called out as she bent down to do the same in her father’s bedroom.
That never would have occurred to her, but then again, she’d only ever had cause to hide her journal. She supposed it would be easier to hide a letter under the carpet. But wouldn’t it crinkle if one stepped on it?
She froze as a thought occurred to her.
If a floorboard had been removed and something hidden beneath that, it might make a creaking sound. Something like the groan that was emitted when one stepped too close to the window in the library.
Moving past her bedroom, she raced downstairs toward that room, her heart pounding. She hesitated when she saw Brantford was already there, easing a group of books back into place.
“It’s going to take forever to examine each one of these books to see if there are any documents hidden within their pages or if any of them are hollow.” He turned to face her. “I’ll have someone come in later to do that.”
Rose gave him an absent nod and moved to the north-facing window. The curtains were closed, as always, despite the fact she always made a point to open them whenever she walked into the room. She’d always assumed the servants closed them, but perhaps there was a different reason. Her father might have instructed they be kept closed so as not to chance anyone looking inside from the neighbor’s window and seeing what he was doing.
She stepped on the floorboard just to the left of the window and, as if on cue, it emitted a groaning sound. She noticed that Brantford was watching her and did her best to ignore him as she stepped back. Taking a deep breath, she crouched down and turned up the edge of the carpet.
The floorboards looked normal. She sighed, a mixture of disappointment and relief filling her. She was about to let the carpet fall back into place when Brantford crouched down next to her.
“Not yet.”
Her heart was racing as he prodded around the floorboards, but it wasn’t entirely from their task. He was so close she could feel the warmth emanating from him. She wondered how someone with a reputation for being so cold and remote could generate so much heat.
She kept her eyes down, somehow resisting the temptation to examine his face, and watched his hands instead.
He quickly zeroed in on one board and reached into an inner coat pocket. She gasped when he flicked a button on the onyx cylinder he produced and a blade popped out.
His eyes went to hers, an indescribable emotion hidden in their depths, before he bent, again, to the task at hand. Using the knife to edge underneath the floorboard, he soon had it removed completely.
Rose’s heart almost stopped when she saw the slender box concealed underneath the board. She released the carpet, only noticing then that Brantford was holding it down with one knee, and rose swiftly.
He followed, the box in one hand, his other hand reaching back into his coat. No doubt he was concealing the blade again.
She took several steps back, her eyes glued to the box. A box that might hold proof of her father’s innocence. Or it could contain the opposite. “I don’t want to know what’s in there. Yet at the same time, I do.”
He placed it on a table before turning back to face her. “There’s a lock. I can open it later, after we’ve finished searching the house.”
She licked her bottom lip, noticing the way his eyes zeroed in on the movement. In another time, another place, she could have been accused of using that small motion as an attempt to draw the attention of the man standing before her, but she could honestly say that hadn’t been her intention. She hadn’t even been aware she was doing it until she noticed the way his gaze had flickered down to her mouth.
A riot of nerves assailed her, and she took a step back. “Ellen is probably waiting for me in my room. I raced down here without telling her of my suspicions.”
A corner of his mouth lifted, and she could only stare at him for several seconds. She didn’t think it possible that she could find him more handsome than she already did. She was wrong.
“Are you nervous around me?”
Good heavens, was Brantford flirting with her? Or was she reading something more into their exchange simply because he’d smiled at her?
“I…” She took a deep breath, determined not to let him win this little game. For in that moment, and with striking clarity, she knew that was what this was to him. A game. Well, she’d played this particular sport before and had always won.
Taking a step closer to him, she tilted her head and smiled. “Not at all, my lord.”
His face was once again an impassive mask, and she could tell he didn’t want her to know what he was thinking.
She took another step closer. “I think we both know that I’m safe with you.”
He moved so quickly she had no time to react. He stood barely a breath away, and her heart began to race again. “Is that what you think? If you truly knew what I wanted to do to you, you’d run screaming.”
There was the slightest of hitches in his voice, which was all the confirmation she needed that he wasn’t unaffected by her.
A thrill of delight went through her. “I’m not running,” she said, surprised at the hint of breathlessness in her voice.
His eyes roamed over her face, and she willed him to lean forward and kiss her. She yearned for it, and she could tell that he was tempted. Instead, he stepped back.
“You’d be wise to reconsider.”
His tone was even again and she couldn’t hold back her sigh of disappointment. He might be drawn to her, but it was clear he would never give in to that temptation.
Ellen’s earlier warning rang loudly in her mind, and she chided herself for being foolish enough to think anything could ever happen between them. “Of course,” she said, turning without another word and making her way upstairs.
Brantford watched her go, unwilling to concede that Rose Hardwick might very well have succeeded where no one else ever had. She’d stirred his emotions. He didn’t just want her physically… he longed to possess that generous, surprisingly clever mind of hers.
He’d been struck by her rare beauty when he’d first started investigating Worthington. He’d watched her flirt with nearly every unwed man in the ton, and she’d had them all eating out of her hand. He was no callow youth to be taken in by a pretty face, however.
But then she’d shown her unswerving loyalty to her father and to her new friend, Catherine Evans. In so doing, she’d proven herself generous to a fault. Kerrick had been cornered into offering to marry Rose despite caring deeply for Catherine. Any other woman would have clung to the protection his name could provide when her family’s reputation fell apart. Instead, Rose had broken the betrothal, and she’d
done so in a public manner that ensured Kerrick wouldn’t have to sacrifice his feelings for her new friend.
And despite what he’d said to his sister, he knew Ellen never would have told her of their relationship, not without any prodding. No, Rose must have seen through his sister’s disguise, something which almost never happened. People generally saw what they expected to see, after all.
He would never admit it to Rose, of course, but she intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.
Chapter 6
This time Brantford accompanied Rose when she visited her father at the Tower. Between Kerrick’s warning about Standish and the lack of any new information, he had no choice but to use Worthington’s desire to protect his daughter against him.
Despite his hope to the contrary, the hidden box they’d uncovered revealed nothing that they didn’t already know. It held copies of Worthington’s financial records, which showed that large sums of money had been deposited into his bank account on two occasions over the past few months.
When Rose asked about the contents of the box after he examined it, he merely told her it held nothing they could use to free her father. He could tell that she’d wanted to question him further but instead had turned away from him, her shoulders slumped and her head lowered. He’d wanted to comfort her, had somehow restrained himself from reaching out for her.
Their visit today wasn’t wise, but they were at an impasse. Bringing Rose further into it put her life at increased danger, but he knew she was willing to do whatever was necessary to help her father. If he didn’t include her in his investigation, she’d go off on her own, and then he wouldn’t be able to keep her safe.
His worry for Rose’s safety wasn’t a new sensation for him. Every time he asked for Ellen’s assistance, he had cause to worry that he was putting her in danger. But he preferred to know where she was and what she was doing than be distracted wondering who she was working with now and what dangers she was facing.
His sister was more than capable of taking care of herself, he’d seen to her training himself, but there was only so much she could do against a much larger assailant. Or, heaven forbid, against a group of them, a situation he’d found her in the one time he’d allowed her to work with another agent. Under his watch, he could ensure she never found herself in such dire straits again.
If Standish was involved, and his instincts told him that he was, Brantford needed to know if he was acting alone. Time was also a pressing concern. If Worthington didn’t give them something to go on, the real culprit would continue to operate unhindered. Brantford had been able to delay Worthington’s execution, but that could change if the older man refused to cooperate with his investigation.
For Rose’s sake, he found himself hoping to discover evidence that her father had been coerced in some way. Then he could send Rose Hardwick on her way and go about the task of putting her out of his mind. He didn’t know what had possessed him to reveal he found her desirable the day before, but he was determined to ensure it never happened again.
He’d pressed his sister into service again and was currently waiting for them in a carriage outside the Overlea town house. Normally, he would have met them at the Tower, but he needed to speak to Rose before they saw her father. He paid no attention to the relief he felt knowing that he wouldn’t be alone with her.
When a footman opened the carriage door, the slight widening of Rose’s eyes told him she was surprised to see him. He ignored the slight amusement on his sister’s face when their eyes met.
“I apologize for not meeting you outside,” he said by way of greeting when the two women were safely inside the carriage.
Rose waved her hand in dismissal. “I understand. Society’s rules must go by the wayside when one is engaged in the business of spy work.”
He had to fight against the urge to look at his sister, curious as to whether she’d let that information slip as well. With any luck, Rose was just guessing and hoping to catch him out. That she’d guessed correctly was beside the point.
The way she huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms just below her breasts told him he’d been correct. He couldn’t help but notice the way her breasts looked, framed by her bodice and her bare arms, but he refused to break eye contact with her. He would not to be so easily distracted.
“We have matters to discuss before we see your father.”
She inclined her head, and he wondered, briefly, if she was trying to copy his own mannerisms or if she was annoyed with him.
“I’ve spoken to your father, but he refuses to discuss his reason for confessing to treason. He has insisted that he acted alone but couldn’t—or wouldn’t—tell me who he sold the secrets to.”
“That’s because he doesn’t know. Someone else sold those secrets.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But we’re going to need to rattle him to get him to reveal anything, and that is why I requested your presence today.”
“You said it wasn’t safe for me to visit my father. Has that changed?”
He ignored the stab of guilt. “No, it hasn’t. But it’s recently come to my attention that you are already at risk. We must do all that we can to put an end to this matter.”
He noticed the way Ellen reached out to take Rose’s hand and the way Rose smiled at his sister. He put aside his annoyance at not being able to offer her similar comfort.
“I’ve made arrangements for Ellen to stay with you, and Kerrick has already spoken to Overlea about adding a few of my men to the household staff to pose as footmen.”
Rose slumped back against the seat and closed her eyes, sighing loudly. “This is a nightmare. The last thing I want to do is place Catherine or her family at risk, not when they’ve been so kind and welcoming to me.” She took a deep breath before meeting his eyes again. “I should return to my family’s town house. Ellen can stay with me there, and the men can be added to our household staff.”
He shook his head. “That won’t work. You’ll be vulnerable there, alone.”
“I won’t—”
“Miss Evans is also in danger. With the two of you under the same roof, it is easier to keep both of you safe. Overlea is a good man. He’s already protective of his wife and sister-in-law. Other than you staying with me—which we all know is out of the question—his home is the safest place for you.”
To his surprise, Rose brushed off his concerns for her safety and zeroed in on the implied threat to her friend. “Catherine is in danger? It’s because of me, is it not?”
He hadn’t particularly wanted to share this information with her, but she’d hear it soon enough. He needed to dangle this piece of bait in front of her father to get him to speak.
“It’s because of Lord Standish.”
Rose shuddered. “That man is horrible. There’s something cold about him. Unnatural. And the way he kept circling around Catherine.” She shuddered again. “I tried to distract her whenever he was present, but I wasn’t able to keep him from dancing with her.”
Why was he surprised that Rose had picked up on the unsavory aspects of the other man’s character? She might not know the details about Standish’s past, but it was clear she had excellent instincts.
“What do you know about him?”
“Nothing beyond the feeling that he’s someone whom I should stay away from. He’s never shown any interest in me though. Only Catherine.”
“Do you know whether your father had occasion to meet with him privately?”
He forced himself not to dwell on the way her nose scrunched as she concentrated. He certainly didn’t think it was adorable.
“Not that I remember. Wait…”
Her eyes widened as something occurred to her. “Lord Standish. He was there, at the ball, when Lord Kerrick and I were found alone together. He entered the room just behind my parents. Was he responsible for everything that evening? Lord Kerrick said he received a note that he thought was from Catherine. I thought mine was from… someone else.”
The
way her eyes slithered away, a hint of color touching her cheeks, had him curious about whom it was she’d been hoping to see. If she favored one of the men who followed her around everywhere, surely he would have noticed. Not because he’d been watching her, of course. His interest had only been on investigating her father.
He met Ellen’s eyes then, and his sister arched one delicate brow as she glanced down at his hands. Only then did he realize he was clenching his fists. He forced his hands to relax and looked at Rose again.
“Standish wanted Kerrick out of the way so he could pursue Catherine himself. When you broke your engagement, you thwarted his plans.”
Rose stared at him, her mouth open in horror. “I never thought to wonder about it. Things happened so quickly after that, and then Papa confessed to treason. Surely Lord Standish will just move on to someone else. Though I don’t envy the poor girl who will receive his attentions.”
“We don’t believe he is one to give up so easily.” At Rose’s frown, he continued, “Catherine should be safe enough. Between Overlea and Kerrick, they have her locked up tight. You should be safe there, as well, from any action Standish should wish to take in revenge.”
Rose shook her head. “This makes no sense. What would he do to me? Unless…” He saw the moment she realized the truth. “You think Standish is involved in this crime. That it is he, not my father, who committed treason and he somehow coerced my father to confess.”
“It remains to be seen whether or not your father was a willing participant.” Rose frowned at that, but he ignored her displeasure and continued. “I believe your father confessed because he was worried that Standish was a real threat to you and your mother.”
Rose sank back against the seat again. “This is a nightmare. What are we going to do? Should we confront Lord Standish?”
A flash of annoyance—and if he were being completely honest with himself, more than a hint of fear—swept through him at the notion. He leaned forward, intent on imparting the seriousness of his next words. “Under no circumstances are you to go anywhere near Lord Standish.”
The Unaffected Earl Page 5