What other matter would the queen want to discuss? Then she remembered—the Mathewes Bank affair still needed to be settled.
Lord Reynard offered his arm to Pamela. “I’d judge that a rousing success.”
Pamela walked with him after Kerrich and Beth. “So it was, my lord.” A complete success. Her Majesty not only considered Kerrich to be shepherded safely into the fold of respectability, but from Victoria’s pleasant smile Pamela guessed there would be no more talk of changing banks. So the plan Kerrich had proposed that day in the study of the Distinguished Academy of Governesses had come to fruition.
Of course, the tale of the full moon on a foggy night had surfaced, but regardless of Kerrich’s belief, that wasn’t Pamela’s fault and had not been mentioned in the original deal. Yes, she had succeeded, and would receive all the moneys owed her. The Governess School would survive and prosper. Her task was done.
She blinked away another round of tears. This wretched, inopportune weakness had to stop, or people would begin to suspect that she and Lord Kerrich…
“Where did you find Beth, my lord?” Pamela asked, and hoped that husky note in her voice didn’t betray her.
“She found me, and rather bitterly railed against you and Kerrich, but she’s a clever girl.” Lord Reynard kept up with Kerrich and Beth as they stepped into the less-crowded bow drawing room. “With very little help from me, she talked herself around.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Pamela said from the bottom of her heart. And, as Kerrich and Beth came to a halt in a curtained alcove, she said, “Pardon me.” She watched her own hand reach out for Beth’s shoulder and touch it. “Beth,” she said softly, and waited in one second of agonized anticipation.
Would the child spin around with a smile or a scowl?
But it didn’t matter. Pamela had to hug her, to confirm she was safe by holding that slight, warm child. As Beth turned, Pamela sank to her knees and embraced her.
Beth didn’t push her away. Instead she hugged Pamela back and piped, “I’m sorry, Miss Lockhart, for worrying you.”
“No. No, I’m sorry.” Pamela held her away, looked into her eyes, and apologized from the fullness of her heart. “I am sorry.”
“I know. Lord Reynard explained it all to me. I know about…money and such. I would have done what you did, too.” Beth grinned and waved her arm back toward the queen. “Did you see me? Wasn’t I great?”
Ah, the inevitable rebound of youth. And its incredible complacency! “You were very great. Everything went well.”
“Except Her Majesty acted funny when I talked about the orphans.”
Lord Reynard interceded. “One does not tell the queen of England that her orphans are suffering.”
Beth wrinkled her nose. “But they are.”
“Especially not then,” Lord Reynard said.
“But it was only one small gaffe, and because it was the result of a generous heart, Her Majesty easily forgave you,” Pamela said.
All the time they were talking, Kerrich circled them like a worried dog, glaring at them and then glaring at any stray onlookers. Now he snapped, “All right, ladies. Enough mawkishness. Get up, Miss Lockhart, we have visitors bearing down on us.”
“Ah, lad, you’re such a sentimental fool.” Lord Reynard leaned on his cane and grinned tauntingly at Kerrich.
“Claptrap,” Kerrich muttered.
Pamela stood up, Beth’s hand tucked in hers. She felt as if she had dived into a dark tunnel and barely made it out the other side, and she wasn’t sure all of herself had come through intact. In fact, she suspected she had changed, although just how she hadn’t yet discovered.
The entire group of Kerrich’s intimates had followed them.
Lord Swearn walked up with Lady Albon on his arm, and greeted them.
The pairing of these two startled Pamela. At Beth’s party, Lord and Lady Swearn had seemed so married. But these two had that sparkle in their eyes and that spring in their steps. Pamela knew without a doubt they were indulging in an affair.
Lady Colbrook appeared next, and just as the first time Pamela had met her, she appeared perfect, intelligent and perceptive.
Her husband trailed behind her, glowering. Pamela didn’t know what had made him so unhappy, but she hoped Lady Colbrook told him to think before he spoke. Or if that wasn’t possible, to speak more quietly. Someone needed to; the man was a social menace, and how Lady Colbrook, with her charm and natural social graces, put up with him, Pamela did not know.
“Miss Lockhart, how good to see you again.” Lady Colbrook smiled without a hint of condescension.
“And you, my lady.” Pamela curtsied, thinking that the ordeal of subtle and not so subtle interrogation had begun.
Lord Colbrook said heartily, “You’re looking much differ—” Lady Colbrook’s elbow struck him in the rib cage and his breath whooshed out. “That is,” he wheezed, “you’re looking well.”
Pamela avoided looking straight at him. “Thank you, my lord.”
“It was touching to see Her Majesty with Beth.” Lady Colbrook included Kerrich and Pamela in her comment.
Pamela realized—Lady Colbrook had changed the subject! Pamela wanted to weep with gratitude. She didn’t know if she could have kept her poise as she evaded questions about why she had disguised herself. And when someone dug for the details of her father’s death! Ah, then Pamela would have longed to use her wit to cut them off.
But Lord Swearn easily followed Lady Colbrook’s lead and spoke to Beth. “Yes, you certainly impressed our sovereign.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Beth squeezed Pamela’s hand and beamed.
Pamela squeezed back. Their excitement was mutual; perhaps Pamela would come through this reception without any more surprises.
“The queen is interested in children.” Lady Pitchford arrived in time to hear the comments. “She’s increasing.”
“Increasing.” With child? The queen was with child? But she’d been married for less than a year. Surely it wasn’t possible that this woman, so much younger than Pamela, could be…ina stupor, Pamela repeated, “Increasing.”
Kerrich looked startled. “Her Majesty appears plump, yes, but—”
The married women looked on him, the ignorant male, pityingly.
Of course. Pamela almost staggered beneath the impact of the report. The queen was expecting a child.
“We’ll have a royal babe ere the year is out,” Lady Colbrook said.
Lord Pitchford appeared and declared, “She’s knocked up. Poor Albert.”
Pamela lightly touched her fingers to her own midriff. A child.
Beth tugged at her hand. When Pamela leaned down to hear her, she whispered, “Is it true about the baby?”
“I don’t know.” Pamela didn’t know whether she answered Beth or spoke to herself about her own sudden and overwhelming alarm.
“Poor Albert?” Lady Pitchford’s bosom heaved with indignation. “Poor Victoria, I would say. She’s the one who’ll have to have a child ripped from her loins.”
The Tomlins rushed up. “Did we miss it?” Mrs. Tomlin asked.
“I would say it’s just getting started,” Lady Colbrook drawled. “But let’s halt everything right here. We’ll have no more of your loin-ripping, Lady Pitchford. There are gentlemen and children present.”
Certainly Beth’s eyes were wide as she listened to the conversation.
“We missed Beth’s presentation?” Mrs. Tomlin insisted.
At the nods all around, Tomlin grinned impishly. “But we have to make conversation about something. Let’s question Kerrich about the full moon on a foggy night!”
That jerked Pamela back to the immediate issue.
“No.” Kerrich glanced at her. “Let’s not.”
Swearn was grinning, too. “But—”
“No.” Kerrich was adamant.
So it was true. Everyone was laughing about his youthful exploits…and he had immediately decided Pamela had betrayed him. Probably still thou
ght she’d betrayed him.
She couldn’t be having a baby by a man who thought her deceitful and treacherous. They had scarcely been together…only the few times…that night in the library…and afterward in her bedchamber…and earlier today.
Quite a few times, really.
Pamela hadn’t thought this affair through. She hadn’t thought at all.
Colbrook began to say something. Something vulgar, no doubt.
Lady Colbrook ruthlessly spoke over the top of him. “If we’re going to talk scandal, let’s talk about what happened at the Bank of England today.”
Pamela’s attention honed in on Lady Colbrook.
Everyone’s attention honed in on Lady Colbrook, but Kerrich swiveled to face her and spoke so sharply, Pamela winced. “How do you know what happened at the bank today?”
“I was there,” Lady Colbrook said.
“You were there,” Kerrich repeated.
Beth tugged at Pamela’s hand again.
“Yes, and can you believe it? There was a young man there with a gun, and he shot at a guard.” Lady Colbrook drew herself up indignantly. “I could have been killed!”
“How awful!” Mrs. Tomlin exclaimed.
Lady Colbrook spoke clearly enough that her voice reached everyone. “I was riding by on the new gelding Colbrook bought me—”
“The gray that Wilcox sold,” Lord Colbrook said proudly.
“—and lost control of the creature.”
“But you’re the best rider I’ve ever seen,” Lady Albon said.
“A dog spooked the horse,” Lady Colbrook snapped.
“Was he robbing the place?” Lord Swearn sounded stern. “Did he get away?”
“Why were you riding by the bank?” Kerrich asked.
Lady Colbrook sighed in annoyance. “Yes, he got away. He fired a gun!”
Pamela noted she didn’t answer Kerrich’s question.
Beth tugged at Pamela’s hand again, and loudly whispered, “Miss Lockhart!”
Lord Reynard moved closer to his grandson.
Pamela realized Kerrich hadn’t heard Beth’s revelation about the lady and Mr. Athersmith. She looked down at Beth and lifted her eyebrows.
Beth nodded excitedly. “That’s her.”
“But she’s so agreeable.” Still, Pamela’s heart raced with excitement.
“Lady Colbrook, tell me what you were doing at the Bank of England,” Kerrich said.
Lady Colbrook’s wave of the arm included everyone in the group. “If you’ll just be quiet, I’ll tell the whole story.”
A strange man’s voice intruded, and for a moment Pamela couldn’t place the frenzied, infuriated tones. “The whole story, my lady?” he said. “Or just the parts you made up to gild your own damnable precarious image?”
Like a stage villain, Mr. Athersmith stepped out from behind the curtains with a cocked pistol pointed at Lady Colbrook’s heart.
Chapter 28
Lady Colbrook kept her composure admirably. She didn’t scream, didn’t cower. Instead she confirmed Kerrich’s suspicions with a single phrase. “How did you get in here?”
Lady Albon ducked and shrieked. Mrs. Tomlin shoved her husband behind her out of harm’s way. Pamela took Beth by the shoulders, pushed the child behind her, and backed away.
Kerrich stepped between Lady Colbrook and his cousin. “Lewis, this isn’t wise.”
“Wise?” Lewis’s voice shook as he tried to angle around Kerrich and still keep his back to the wall. “Wise? What is wisdom to me? I’m ruined. Everyone at the Bank of England saw me.”
“You were the one stealing from the Bank of England?” Lord Swearn flushed ruddy red and his lips drew back from his teeth. “You lived in my house. You taught my son. You…you beast.”
“See?” Lewis’s trousers were torn at the knee, his hair stood on end, he audibly drew breath after painful breath. “See? I can’t stay in England or I’ll hang, and I can’t leave England because Miss Fotherby, the girl I love, is here.”
“My daughter!” Swearn started toward Lewis. “How dare you even speak her name?”
The gun swung toward him. “This is your fault. You told me I was too poor to have her, so I searched until I found money!”
“You didn’t find it, you stole it!” Lord Swearn shouted.
Lord Reynard stepped between the men, and held Lewis’s gaze. “Lewis, you’re at Buckingham Palace.”
“And I’m acting improperly,” Lewis mocked the old man. “What will the queen think?”
“Don’t be stupid, lad,” Lord Reynard said crisply. “The royal guards will kill you.”
“I’ve nothing to lose.” Lewis’s voice shook.
Kerrich wanted his grandfather out of there, and at the same time knew an appeal would not sway him. After all, Lord Reynard was the man who had taught him it was better to die for your principles than to live in cowardice. The devil fly away with Grandpapa!
Someone in the crowd screamed. “A pistol. That man has a pistol!”
More screams followed, and people scattered for the exits, carrying Pamela and Beth with them. Kerrich’s gaze met Pamela’s as she turned in the doorway and sent him one last glance.
He wanted Pamela and Beth safe, and at the same time he hated to see them go. He wanted them to see what he’d been involved in, why he’d left them to travel to Buckingham Palace by themselves. Selfish. He was selfish to the bone, but if he had to die, he wanted to do it honorably and in the arms of the woman he loved.
Kerrich almost laughed at himself. Right here, right now, with a gun pointed at his chest and death staring him in the face, he could admit he loved Pamela. He loved her—and he had made no provision for her.
She disappeared from the doorway, and moved to sudden desperation, he murmured to Lord Reynard, “If I’m hurt, you’ll take care of Pamela and Beth.”
“I will,” Grandpapa answered. “But I’m warning you right now, boy. Don’t get hurt.”
Lewis glanced around. The gun wavered. Kerrich jumped toward him. And Lewis once again leveled the pistol on Lady Colbrook.
Again Kerrich stepped between them, holding out his hand. “Lewis, I recognize that gun. It’s mine, one of my matched pair of dueling pistols. So give it to me.”
With a bitter snicker, Lewis said, “You don’t get everything you want, Devon.”
“Young man, this is so dramatic!” Lady Colbrook snapped. “If you don’t care if you live or die, why don’t you just shoot yourself?”
Lewis’s eyes bulged with fury. “Because it’s all your fault.” He pointed his other hand at her, and the gun waved wildly. Lord and Lady Pitchford turned and ran, but Lewis didn’t seem to notice. He saw only Lady Colbrook. “You’re the one who thought up the counterfeiting. You’re the one who told me what to do. I did what you told me.”
With absolute, icy composure, Lady Colbrook asked, “Who’s going to believe that?”
“I do,” Kerrich said. Lewis hadn’t been meeting a lady for licentious purposes as he and Moulton had thought. He’d been meeting her to get his instructions. “You were at the Bank of England to create a diversion for Lewis. You failed and left Lewis to take the consequences.”
Lewis inched along the wall, trying to get into position for a clean shot at Lady Colbrook.
She ignored him to stare at Kerrich for a long, considering moment. Then she shrugged her bare, pale shoulders. “Ah, well. As long as you already know. The truth is, I didn’t fail. I made a lovely diversion by slipping from my horse and pretending to be hurt and fainting artfully. I did so well Mr. Athersmith almost got the paper outside. Then he rammed the cart against the doorframe and, as if the noise weren’t enough, knocked the paper off onto the floor and broke one of the bottles of ink.”
“Not all of it, and I was hurrying!” Lewis said.
“I told you not to hurry.” Contempt lashed through her tone. “I told you if you just act as if you’re supposed to be there, no one would notice you.”
“Cherise!” Col
brook exclaimed, obviously bewildered. “What are you saying?”
She ignored him like the insignificant trifle he was. Speaking to Kerrich, she said, “If Mr. Athersmith had been cool, he could have convinced those stupid guards to help him pick up the paper and carry it out. But no. He had to shiver with guilt. When they inquired what he was doing, he pulled out a gun and shot it off—”
“I didn’t mean to!” Lewis cried.
“You never mean to. If I had the proper staff, I could organize the world.” She flipped open her fan and fanned herself languidly. “But good help is hard to get these days.”
Kerrich looked around. At the both entrances to the drawing room, the crowd rumbled and shifted, senseless people too fascinated by the drama to appreciate the danger. Here in their small group, they all stood with their mouths open, staring at Lady Colbrook as if they didn’t know her. As they didn’t. None of them knew this imperturbable organizer of high crime.
“I didn’t realize it at first,” Lewis said. “She can do anything, and it doesn’t matter if she gets caught. No one’s going to hang her. She’s noble, and she’s a woman. No one in the government is going to admit a woman made mock of them.”
A faint smile played around her mouth. “That is so true.”
Kerrich still stood between Lewis and his target. Lewis still held that pistol pointed at Kerrich. He didn’t think his cousin would shoot him, but the pistol shook with Lewis’s continuous tremors, and his eyes darted madly about. He was panicked. Guns were notoriously flighty. If Kerrich tried to grab the pistol, it could misfire, and Kerrich had no desire to die for someone as reckless as Lady Colbrook, or at the hand of someone as foolish as his cousin.
“This is asinine,” Colbrook objected. “My wife couldn’t be working for a counterfeiter and me not know it.”
“Working for a counterfeiter?” Lady Colbrook was obviously stung by his lack of comprehension. “I don’t work for anyone!”
“There!” Colbrook nodded, satisfied. “See?”
“Everyone worked for me. I thought up the whole plan.” Lady Colbrook chuckled, her voice a pleased contralto. “I picked my men, five of them, thieves who knew how to take orders, and I thought that we should first test our capacities on Kerrich’s banknotes, but I always knew the glory would be to counterfeit notes from the Bank of England. Mr. Athersmith was my only mistake.”
Rules of Engagement Page 26