The Duke Conspiracy: A Sweet Regency Romance Adventure (Mayfair Mayhem Book 1)

by Wendy May Andrews

  Drawing out the silence as long as he could, Alex was not surprised when Rose broke it first.

  “Well, what do you have to say? I really cannot remain here much longer, Your Grace. If I do not have much drawing accomplished, my mother will wonder why I have been gone so long.”

  Intrigued, Alex had to ask, “Does she check your sketchbook whenever you return home?”

  Enjoying the blush staining her cheeks he had to strain to hear her huff. “Well, of course not.”

  Letting her off the hook, Alex returned to her question. “I will admit to you that while I do not enjoy anything underhanded overmuch, I really do feel I must get to the bottom of this matter. We need to find out why they targeted me and how Sir Broderick is involved.”

  “Do you not think the Austens decided to target you because you are a wealthy, unmarried duke?”

  Alex felt his cheeks burn over her comment but shrugged indifferently. “I am far from being the only wealthy, unmarried nobleman, and if they were smart, they would have striven for someone a little lower on the social structure, like a viscount. There are several unattached viscounts who have plenty of blunt. It would be far less remarkable for the daughter of an impoverished viscount to become engaged to another viscount, or even an earl, than to a duke.”

  “That is true, Your Grace, but changes little about the situation,” Rose offered. “It could just mean that their ambitions know very little bounds.”

  “Or that they are stupid beyond belief,” Alex could not help adding. “Surely they must realize that a duke has connections and resources they could never imagine in order to prevent any sort of misalliance.”

  “They could have been relying on your inexperience,” Rose countered in a low voice. Alex could see she did not wish to elaborate, but then she continued, “Everyone knows you were not your father’s heir for very long.”

  Alex knew it was difficult for her to refer to their shared loss, so he allowed it to pass without comment. Instead, he continued as though she had said nothing. “It would seem to me that they must be after me for some sort of a political agenda, perhaps something connected to the House of Lords. If it was just an ambitious debutante, I would brush it off and ensure I was never alone with her. But the fact that you heard her father conspiring with someone else on the matter implies there is more to it than just a good marriage for an impoverished family.”

  “Do you have any ideas who might be after you? Or what they might be trying to accomplish in such a way? If we have some ideas, we will be in a better position to begin our investigation.”

  Alex gazed at his old friend in admiration. If anyone had ever told him he would be standing in Burlington House surrounded by Elgin’s Marbles debating with Miss Rosamund Smythe about who might be conspiring to entrap him into marriage, he would never have believed such a claim. But here they were. And she looked mighty fetching as she gazed up at him expectantly. He had to make an effort to remember what she had said. Oh yes, something about ideas to investigate. He wondered absently what she could possibly know about investigations and clues and all that. But she was right. They needed to have a direction. The only trouble was he was drawing a blank about any possible ideas.

  All he could do was shrug helplessly. “I am so sorry, Rose, but I have absolutely no idea where to start. To the best of my knowledge, I have never had any dealings with Broderick. I developed an instant dislike of the man upon first making his acquaintance, but I cannot even tell you why, as we have barely conversed.”

  The duke was clearly flabbergasted over this development and was even slightly ashamed to not have a ready solution. Rose must have realized this. She hastened to reassure him. “Never mind about that. We both agreed earlier that the best place for us to start is with Lady Anne. That will have to be my job, as you will just be walking straight into their plot if you try to do anything about it. Now, I really must be going, so we must hurry and establish another appointment to meet up to discuss any of our findings. In the meantime, you should speak to your solicitors or man of affairs or whatever you might have along those lines and see if they are aware of any issues Broderick might have with you. Those gentlemen might know more on the subject than you.”

  “How did you get so smart about such things?”

  Alex was intrigued by the blush that spread over her face at this unanswerable question. The only thing she could offer was, “My father is a diplomat,” with as much dignity as possible.

  Alex allowed the moment to pass and was rewarded by the look of relief on her face. He hurried to make an appointment as they saw her maid approaching. “Would it be remarked upon if you come here again tomorrow or the next day?”

  “Probably not,” Rose answered. “My mother never rises before noon and is really only concerned with how I spend my evenings. But you had best give me at least one day to try to make the acquaintance of Lady Anne, so let us say the day after tomorrow. That gives me a day and a half to gather as much information as possible. I shall start with my friend Lady Elizabeth. She is a font of knowledge about the ton, as well as being friendly with Lady Anne.” While she was speaking she fumbled with her drawing supplies, finally tucking them under her arm. “Wish me luck,” she concluded as she once more faced the duke.

  The duke watched a myriad of emotions chase themselves across his companion’s face. He was unable to identify most of them, but he thought she looked rather wistful as she offered him a brief curtsy before she hurried away without another word.

  Alex stood in the same spot for several moments, watching her retreating figure, wondering if she would look back before exiting the building. He was unprepared for the profound disappointment that swept over him as she strode away with purpose, never once glancing back in his direction. Slowly bringing his focus back to the statue she had been sketching, the duke allowed the entire interlude to play itself out in his mind. Giving his head a shake to rid himself of the melancholy that had befallen him, he followed in her footsteps and strode from the hall.

  Chapter Five

  “Good day, Walter,” the duke greeted Wesley’s butler as the footman held the door for him. “Is the viscount ready to see guests, do you suppose?”

  The well-trained retainer did not reveal his surprise at seeing the duke at such an hour. The viscount and his friends rarely saw the morning hours. “If you would care to wait, I will check for you, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you, Walter. Pray convey my apologies, but it is a rather urgent matter. His lordship need not make himself overly presentable. I just need a few minutes of his time.”

  “Very good, Your Grace. If you will make yourself comfortable in the yellow room, I shall be but a moment.”

  Alex could not sit still. He paced about the room while he waited. Gazing about at the walls that gave the room its name, he wondered absently what Rose would think of the colour, remembering with a smile the description she had given of Lord Austen’s waistcoat. Would she refer to it as jonquil or primrose? he asked himself with a widening smile.

  “What are you grinning about, standing in here by yourself?” the Viscount of Bracondale demanded as he strode into the room in his dressing coat. “And what, pray tell, are you doing in my receiving room at this hour? Walter said it was urgent. Can it wait long enough for me to break my fast, or do we need to ride for the border on the instant?”

  Alex truly did grin at his friend’s choice of words. “No riding will be necessary at the moment. I merely need to run a few ideas past you. We can adjourn to your breakfast room if you would like, but I would prefer to be private, if you do not mind.”

  “If you can tolerate me in my state of disarray, then I can manage to serve myself. Let us not stand upon ceremony, you can help yourself to whatever you would like as well.” Wesley led the way to his dining room where a vast array of dishes had been spread for his enjoyment.

  “All this for just you?” Alex asked with surprise. “It would seem to me that my staff is slacking. They do not provide
me half this much most mornings,” he complained half-heartedly.

  “Mayhap my staff knows I can afford more waste than you can,” teased the viscount.

  “Or perhaps my staff knows I loathe growing fat,” Alex countered, laughing over the glower that was cast his way in response.

  A few moments later, after the worst of his hunger had been sated, Wesley sat back with a strong cup of coffee in his hand. With a sigh of satisfaction he faced his guest. “Very well, Your Grace, I am sufficiently fortified to hear about this emergency that has struck you so early this morning. What has happened since we saw each other last night?”

  “Rosie Smythe has happened,” Alex stated without preamble.

  Wesley grew serious but strove for levity. “What does Miss Smythe have to do with you arriving at such an unholy hour upon my doorstep?”

  “The chit asked to meet me at Burlington House this morning, where she was sketching. She had overheard a conversation involving me and felt the need to tell me about it.”

  “Interesting,” was all the viscount had to say. “What kind of a conversation would be able to make a Smythe speak to a Wrentham?”

  “She overheard Lord Austen and Sir Broderick conspiring to have Lady Anne entrap me into marriage.”

  Now Wesley was at a loss for words. This was but momentary. “Why would she care?” was his first question, dripping with suspicion, as he clearly felt protective of his friend. This was quickly followed by an exasperated exclamation. “And did you really believe her tale? Do you not find it rather difficult to imagine Lady Anne participating in any sort of a scheme against you? And what could Lord Austen and Sir Broderick possibly have to gain by concocting such a plot?”

  Much to Alex’s amusement, Wesley now rose from the table and began to pace. Not wishing to interrupt his perambulations, Alex forbore to comment as Wesley continued to rant. “I do not think you truly bought into Miss Smythe’s tale. You are merely baiting me with this story, are you not, Your Grace? There is no way she would approach you with such a farfetched Banbury tale. You would never believe it, and what could she possibly have to gain by it? No, if the chit did arrange a meeting with you, and you are not merely stringing me along, she must have had some sort of havey-cavey scheme of her own afoot. No doubt in cahoots with her parents. You must be on your guard, Ancroft.”

  With these impassioned words the viscount threw himself back into his chair, gazing at the duke expectantly. Meanwhile, Alex was still smiling over his friend’s use of his former title—in his distress he had reverted to his old form of address.

  “I appreciate your concern, Bracondale,” he drawled with gentle emphasis, “but I have to admit to you that I do, in fact, believe Miss Smythe. I have known Rosie for most of her life, and I do not think she was lying to me. I really do believe she overheard a conversation between Lord Austen and Sir Broderick in which a conspiracy to entrap me into marriage with Lady Anne was discussed. Whether or not it is as dire a situation as she seems to think remains to be seen. As far as I know, those two gentlemen do not have any sort of grudge against me, and I never would have thought Lady Anne had it in her to participate in any such thing.”

  “But if what you say is true and Miss Smythe did overhear such a conversation, why would she bother to warn you of it? Would it not be your just desserts in her mind?”

  Alex offered a rather wan smile over his friend’s weak attempt at humour. “She is a forward little minx who cannot keep her thoughts to herself. She will be the death of whichever man has the misfortune of marrying her. Her managing ways were adorable when she was six. I am not so certain they are nearly as attractive now that she has reached twenty summers.”

  Seeing that the viscount was eyeing him with marked amusement, Alex gave his head a shake and answered his friend’s question. “I believe there remains within her a trace of loyalty toward the relationship we once enjoyed. And she mentioned some sort of nonsense about loyalty to the crown that I could not fully understand. I was sidetracked at the moment and did not ask her to elaborate. I think the poor dear has been overmuch in company with her diplomat father, who would of necessity be at all times concerned with matters of state.”

  “Well, you are a duke, do you suppose there is a kernel of truth to that?” Now Wesley’s loyalties, always on the duke’s side, swung to include Miss Smythe if she were, in fact, defending his friend.

  “She has directed me to discuss the matter with my solicitors and determine if they are aware of any issues those two might have against me personally. In the meantime, she is going to attempt to forge a relationship with Lady Anne in order to see if she can find out anything from that quarter.”

  Now Wesley was again incredulous. “You mean she is going to help you with the matter? Are you absolutely certain she has no ulterior motives?”

  “Quite,” Alex answered, his tone dry. “But that is partially why I am here. I am uncertain if my motives are entirely pure. I need to talk the matter out with a trusted friend. I have so few of those these days, there was really only one choice. That is why your butler had to drag you from your bed to see me.”

  Understanding had dawned in Wesley’s eyes during the duke’s speech. Alex cringed to see sympathy written in every feature of his friend’s face. “Now don’t go looking at me as though I have some sort of pox.”

  This did the trick of bringing a grin to the viscount’s visage. “Seems to me that love is worse than the pox, Your Grace.”

  Alex sighed. He would never have used the L word himself, but no doubt that was what it was.

  “You were never reasonable about that chit,” Wesley remarked. He didn’t bother to await a response. “So when do you meet her again?”

  “How did you know we were to meet again?”

  “You would not be here with your knickers in a knot if you did not fear you were treading down the wrong road. If you had told the chit to mind her own business or even thanked her politely for the warning and told her you would look after the matter from here on out, you would not now need my assistance, nor would you look so concerned. You would have gone straight to your solicitors as the young miss advised and would be halfway done sorting the matter out by now. Instead, you are here in my dining room, downing my coffee, looking as though you wished it were something more able to steady your nerves. No. You, my friend, have the look of someone who knows he is going to get kicked in the teeth but cannot seem to steer clear to save his own soul.”

  “You certainly do like to mix your metaphors,” Alex grumbled, but did not argue with the truth of the viscount’s words. He heaved another sigh before answering his earlier question. “Day after tomorrow, back at Burlington House. That is to give her a day and a half to track down as much information as she can.”

  “Do you think a debutante is going to be able to gather much information?”

  “She is not just any debutante,” Alex defended. “When she was still in the schoolroom she was able to ferret out the truth from any of us boys. She always knew everything that was going on at her estate and ours, as well as the surrounding boroughs. No one could keep anything from her. She just had this way of asking questions and looking at you with such interest that you ended up telling her everything she might possibly want to know before you even realized it. It was one of her best and worst qualities all at once.”

  Wesley’s eyebrows had been inching their way up his forehead during Alex’s speech, and they had nearly disappeared into his hairline by the time the duke settled into silence, which caused him to burst into a guffaw of laughter.

  “Why are you looking at me like that, my Lord Viscount Bracondale?”

  “Did you hear yourself as you were talking about her?” Wesley countered with a question of his own.

  “All right, Dunbar, you were correct, I did come to you for a reason beyond the actual problem of someone’s efforts to entrap me.” Alex sighed over his own admission. “You were wrong when you said I have never been reasonable about her. Yes, she
was my dearest friend for most of her life, but that does not change the facts of our situation now. Our families cannot tolerate the presence of one another. Besides, she is not at all the biddable sort of girl I picture making me a comfortable duchess. Nothing whatsoever can come of any association between the Duke of Wrentham and Miss Smythe.”

  Alex paused once more, raking his hand through his hair with frustration. “But I cannot turn my back on the fact that she had the decency to let me know about what she perceived as a threat to me. I cannot reward her loyalty with my own disloyalty. I need to take this threat seriously and allow her to help with the solution.”

  “Did she offer her help?”

  “Not in the beginning. I actually asked her to help. But I know her well enough to know that she would have wanted to be involved.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Wesley was noncommittal. “So what did the two of you arrange?”

  “She is to seek out Lady Anne, possibly with the help of Lady Elizabeth, and try to glean as much information as she can. In the meantime, I will find out what I can about Lord Austen and Sir Broderick. Then, as you said, we will meet to discuss our findings and make a further plan from there.”

  “So what do you need from me?”

  “I might need you to take over the investigation as it connects with Rosie’s involvement. I would appreciate it if you would accompany me to our meeting two days hence in order to lend countenance as well as to help if need be. Depending where this situation goes, I might really need your help.”

  “So you really do believe there is some sort of a threat against you?”

  “I do. It is the extent of the threat that is uncertain. It is a fact of a duke’s life that there is always someone out to get him on some level. But this seems different. Generally, anyone scheming against me is just interested in benefiting in their pocketbook. On the surface, with Lord Austen, that would be the obvious reason, but Sir Broderick is far from having his pockets to let, so it does not seem so apparent what his motivation might be. This leads me to believe it could be more nefarious than I would wish.”