A Season for Treason

by Golden Angel

  Yet now that he saw them interacting all together, it was clear she was their leader.

  Fascinating.

  When Mary turned back to him and waved, beckoning, Rex responded with alacrity. The carriage would do well enough where it was—without occupants, any passersby would assume they had stepped out for a stroll while the groom waited—and it would help block the view of the willow from some angles. Anticipation burgeoned, tinged with relief. He did not know what he would have done if they had refused to speak with him.

  Coming closer, he could see wariness on their faces. Focusing on the servant woman, he found himself frowning. At first glance, she was a pleasant-faced woman, nothing remarkable, then her expression changed. He could not say exactly how, only that it did, and her beauty and intelligence shone through. Rex almost gaped as he came to a halt beside his wife, his arm snaking out to wrap around Mary’s back, a hand resting on her hip. The gesture was possessive but also a declaration—he was her husband and would not tolerate secrets.

  He did not have any from her. Granted, telling her had not been his choice, but still.

  The servant woman, who he was quite certain was no such thing, met his gaze evenly. This was not a woman who would be easily managed. Not that Mary was either, but Rex knew how to handle her and thought he could likely do so with Miss Davis and Miss Pennyworth as well. This woman, though? He could not think of a single person in the Society he would wager on when it came to a battle of wills, including himself. Not that he would wager against himself, either; he rather thought any contest between them would end in a draw. Still, that was saying something—he could count the number of people he would make a similar deduction about on his fingers. She was in rare company.

  She was also deucedly familiar, though he had never met her before. Something in her bone structure, not the eyes, though. No, her blazing green eyes, full of challenge and suspicion, were her own. He would remember seeing eyes like that before.

  “Rex, this is my friend Evie. Evie, my husband Rex, the Marquess of Hartford.” Mary was stiff beside him as she introduced them. Rex’s eyes narrowed at the lack of a surname, studying Evie more closely. The name and his increasing confidence she resembled someone he knew were ringing a peal in the back of his head, setting off an alarm. Somehow, someway, he must be acquainted with her family or a relative. If only he could think of who because his brain was giving him a warning. Danger. Not good.

  “Evie.” He let the name roll off his tongue, hoping it would prod his memory, but no such luck.

  “Hartford.” She nodded her head as though they were equals, giving him another small clue to her identity. Definitively ton. Possibly haut ton.

  Mary

  Watching Rex and Evie face off like two dualists was nerve-wracking. Mary was acutely aware of his arm round her waist, effectively claiming her in front of her friends, but the truth was, she had very divided loyalties. She would not betray her friends, but neither was she comfortable keeping secrets from Rex. If he had been an indifferent husband, it would not matter, but there was something growing between them, and she wanted it to blossom into love.

  Indeed, she was fairly certain she was already well on her way to falling in love with him. She would throw herself into the emotion unreservedly if only she could trust he felt some inkling of the same.

  Josie and Lily seemed to be holding their breath as well, though for them, the stakes were not nearly so high. Rex and Evie just had that effect.

  “We can trust him,” Mary said quietly, repeating what she had said to her friends before Evie agreed to call Rex over. Not only could they, but in truth, they had to. Unlike her, he actually knew all the players in the Society. She also suspected he might keep her away from the Society without a good reason otherwise. The way he had reacted to her questions about their next event had not been promising.

  After a long moment of scrutiny, Evie finally nodded her head.

  “Let us sit down.” She gestured to the blanket Lily had set up.

  Settling beside Rex, facing her friends, Mary could not help but feel as though the placement set her at odds against the other three, which was not what she wanted… yet she did not want Rex to feel as though she was set against him either. This was far more difficult than she had anticipated when she’d made the decision to allow him to accompany her to the park, yet not doing so would have been even worse.

  Voice low and intense, Evie explained everything to Rex. Watching his profile, Mary could see his jaw clenching when he was told the suspicions about the connection to his Society.

  “How can you possibly know that?” As much a challenge as a question, he glared at Evie, and Mary could practically feel the protective waves coming off him, his indignance at the accusation against any of the members.

  “Because the spymaster of England received the information, and he believes it as well.” Pressing her lips together, Evie lifted her chin, about to go on when a dawning light passed over Rex’s expression.

  “Stuart,” Rex said suddenly. Mary and the others sucked in shocked, slightly horrified breaths as he said Evie’s surname. He rocked back as if physically jolted by the revelation. “By God, you are Eveline Stuart!”

  Too loud. Mary reached out and slapped her hand over his mouth without thinking. Josie and Lily looked shocked and afraid. Evie’s expression was harder to read, but she appeared paler than normal. Settling, Rex reached up and plucked Mary’s hand away from his face without looking at her.

  Something inside of her stomach turned over when he released her hand immediately, pushing it back toward her, still not glancing her way. Not even for a moment, as if he did not want to look at her. Of course, with the mountain of her lies and omissions, she could not blame him, but his complete disregard made her feel empty and hollowed.

  “How did you know?” Evie asked, her words clipped and precise, hiding her emotions.

  Rex’s eyes narrowed.

  “I am acquainted with your cousin.” He said the words with growing anger. “I now understand why he finally asked to join the Society after all this time.” Not just anger. Hurt. It emanated from him. Her lion had a thorn in his paw, and she had been party to putting it there.

  “Please, do not tell him I am in London,” Evie said, though it sounded more like an order than anything else.

  “Which cousin?” Josie asked, just as Evie spoke. Next to her, Lily nudged her in the side. “Ow, stop… I only want to know if it is Joseph.”

  Rex barely spared Josie a glance, which was more than Mary could say. He had avoided looking at her so assiduously, it fairly screamed his injury.

  “Not Joseph.” He refocused on Evie. “You have my word. I will mention nothing to Elijah.” A smile curved his lips, but it was not a kind or happy smile. “Indeed, it seems I owe him a secret or two.”

  Unhappily, Mary turned away when she realized Rex was not going to look at her. Elijah was not the only one he owed. She saw Josie mouthing Elijah’s name in utter surprise—truthfully, Mary was taken aback by that as well. She would have wagered Adam as being the adventurous brother. When she looked at Lily, her friend looked back at her with sympathy, dashing any hopes Mary’s interpretation of Rex’s reaction was due to oversensitivity on her part.

  Rex

  Holding himself rigid, Rex did not look at his wife, even though he could feel her pleading gaze on the side of his face. He dared not. He did not know if he would be able to hold on to his temper if he did.

  “Thank you.” Miss Stuart took a deep breath. “If you know my family and who my uncle really is, you know what I am telling you is true. There is likely a connection to your Society. If you can think of anyone, anyone at all, who might…” Her voice trailed off, sympathy filling her emerald gaze. Clearly, she understood how hard it would be for him to believe anyone so closely aligned with him might betray their country.

  However…

  “Not currently of the Society, but there was one man whose behavior caused him to be cast
out,” Rex said tightly. “Julian Mitchell.” He had been the first to spring to mind, of course. “Currently employed with the Earl of Warwick.” He hesitated, which was enough for Miss Stuart to pounce. At that moment, she reminded him even more strongly of Elijah, who had often complained to Rex about his young, impulsive, and stubborn cousin, who was constantly involving herself in his father’s business.

  “Do you think Warwick could be involved?”

  “I do not personally like the man very much,” Rex admitted. “Despite that, I cannot see him doing anything to the detriment of England. Still, as he is the one who introduced Mitchell to the Society and continues to employ him, I cannot vouch for him entirely.” He frowned. “Warwick also sponsored another man recently, a Captain Nathan Jones, but I can countenance him being connected to treachery even less. He was recently decommissioned, honorably.”

  The three young women before him exchanged glances. At his side, he could feel Mary doing the same, and although her attention was divided, some of it still focused on him.

  “I will make some inquiries—discreetly,” he tacked on when Evie looked about to protest. “But you must admit, I am in a far more advantageous position to do so than you currently are.”

  “You might be surprised,” Miss Pennyworth muttered. Rex narrowed his eyes when Miss Davis elbowed her again. If he was going to choose a loose tongue, it would be Miss Pennyworth. He doubted she would respond to threats or intimidation but set the right challenge before her, and she clearly struggled not to rise to the bait.

  Still, she had a point. Rex let his gaze sweep over Miss Stuart’s attire and raised his eyebrow. She shrugged. If she were his… but she was not. Mary was, and he had his hands full with her. They were due a long discussion at the very least, but not until he had wrested his temper fully under his control—his temper… and the odd ache inside his chest. It felt as if he had been offered something wonderful, only to have it snatched away at the last moment. While he did not entirely understand the reaction, he could not deny it.

  “I must get back.” Miss Stuart got to her feet, pausing to look down at Rex, her gaze softening as she glanced at Mary beside him. “Please do not blame Mary. She is faultlessly loyal and sworn to secrecy.”

  Rex inclined his head.

  “As you say.”

  Blame her? No, not exactly, but he was not happy with her, either. He could not question her loyalty, but neither would he be able to rest until that loyalty was fully, flawlessly to him.

  That was his due as her husband, was it not?

  Chapter 20

  Rex

  False pretenses.

  Stiffly escorting his wife back to their carriage, Rex realized that was what was truly bothering him.

  All this time, he had assumed Mary was adventurous, looking for illicit thrills when she infiltrated the Society’s masquerade, that she had an interest in him that could not be contained. He had thought she had a real regard for him.

  Realizing she had been spying on him, looking for a traitor among his people, and not actually interested in him at all…

  He felt betrayed. Deceived. Misled.

  “Rex.” Mary tugged at his arm where she had placed her hand. “Michael…”

  “Stop.” He cut her off without looking down at her, unable to bear hearing her call him Michael. The intimacy they had shared the night before now felt false. “We will talk at home.”

  At home, after he had some time to reflect on all the new information and what it meant for the marriage she had trapped him in. Had she meant to trap him? Had it all been an elaborate ruse? No, that could not be right. He had been willing to marry her before that—the more fool, him—and she had refused. So why had she gone into the conservatory?

  Not to follow a man for an assignation, but perhaps to follow someone she suspected of being connected to this plot. Maybe not even something so dire—she could have been following anyone she recognized from the Society, to see what they were doing and who they were meeting. Most likely, she would have witnessed nothing more than a clandestine tryst, but what if she had stumbled across a traitor? Had she even paused to think about how dangerous that was?

  Fear choked him, but he managed to push it back as they reached the carriage, and he wordlessly helped her into it. The groom glanced over his shoulder as if sensing something was amiss between his lord and lady, but of course, he could not ask.

  “Home,” Rex barked out before settling beside a subdued Mary.

  There was a part of him that wanted to reassure her, but he did not. Another part of him was disgruntled. What did she have to be upset about? She was not the one who had been married under false pretenses. She had trapped them both by kissing him in the conservatory, where she had likely been risking her life to follow a possible traitor into a completely unknown situation. She had pretended an interest in him that did not exist.

  Aggrieved, Rex sat silently beside her, not allowing the impulse to reach out and hold her hand to sway him from his rightful pique.

  Mary

  Biting down hard on her lower lip, Mary blinked back the tears in her eyes, forcing her expression into a calm social mask.

  That her perfectly wonderful wedding day was followed immediately by such an awful one made her want to hide away in her room and cry into her pillow. Pain had bloomed in the center of her chest, and rubbing did nothing to relieve the steady ache. She wished she had stayed home, the way she originally planned.

  Then Rex would have come looking for her, and they could have spent the day together, their first proper day as man and wife, enjoying themselves—instead of this.

  Or perhaps it was for the best? She could feel the wounded pride radiating off him. Would it be worse if their marriage had gone on longer before he either discovered her mission for Evie, or she had confessed?

  Mary wanted to explain to him that she had not wanted to lie. She had not wanted to hide secrets from him. She did trust him. But it had not been her decision or her secret to tell, and she knew that given the choice, she would not have told him today, which only compounded her growing guilt.

  Unfortunately, Rex did not want to talk to her. At all.

  When they reached home, he helped her down from the carriage and escorted her to the door, but the moment they were inside, he pulled away as if her touch repulsed him.

  “I will be in my study.” His eyes skipped over hers, unfocused, as though he did not see her.

  Swallowing hard against the pleas of forgiveness bubbling up, Mary nodded her head. She did not trust herself to speak yet. No, impulsiveness had been her downfall at every turn. If he was going to shut himself away in his study, she could do the same elsewhere and use the time to think.

  There had to be something she could say, something she could do to make amends and demonstrate her feelings for him. Perhaps it went against Cynthia’s advice to make him chase her, but at the moment, she did not think that advice was pertinent to the situation. She wished she could seek out the other women, or Arabella, or anyone who might have some insight, but she did not dare leave the house again. Who knew what Rex would think if she even made the attempt?

  Wandering through the hallways, she found herself in the back parlor that overlooked the gardens outside. Staring blankly at the colorfully arrayed flower beds, she found her mind turning to the Society. Not to the possible traitor among them, but to everything she had witnessed during her evening—their carousing, their pleasures, and more pertinently, the punishments.

  Like the one he had given her for sneaking into the masquerade.

  Rex

  Leaning back in his armchair in an unhabitual slump, boots on his desk—which he rarely indulged in—Rex was sulking. There was no other word for it. He was a sulky, disillusioned lion, brooding in his lair, unwilling to leave because he would have to face the woman who had so enthralled him, only to discover her actions had been entirely misleading.

  Now, fully enlightened on all the facts, so much of Mary’s p
revious incomprehensible behavior made perfect sense. That he could not have possibly surmised the correct answer from her actions was also clear. What gentleman in his right mind would believe a small group of ladies—debutantes, no less—had inserted themselves into matters of treason? The very notion was ridiculous. Which, of course, made it not only completely plausible but rather brilliant if looked at from a certain angle.

  Wrestling with his own personal upset against possible treason and an assassination attempt on one of the closest heirs to the throne made him feel rather selfish. The ladies had moved faster than White Hall, if Elijah’s request to join the Society was indeed motivated by a similar plan, which Rex now assumed it was. That was a disappointment as well, yet he could view Elijah’s deceit far more dispassionately than his wife’s, despite having a much longer history with the man, and even knowing Mary’s behavior this Season had been increasingly odd.

  Truthfully, until today, he had not even considered Mary might be able to hurt him emotionally. While he had felt possessive and jealous, both new emotions for him, he had ascribed that to her unprecedented role in his life. Now, his eyes had been fully opened to how emotionally tangled he truly was.

  She is faultlessly loyal.

  That she had been. Even going so far as to marry him rather than betray her friends and their undertaking. Not just because she loved her country, but because she loved her friends.

  Therefore, in order to secure her loyalty, he had to gain her love as well.

  But how to do so?

  Rex had been a master of seduction from the time he was a young man. He knew how to charm, how to seduce, how to beguile, but he had never attempted to make a woman fall in love with him, the very opposite in fact. He had not wished unnecessary emotional entanglements with any of his previous liaisons. He had not even had a mistress, all his needs being met by the Society and other various bored matrons among the ton. There had been multitudes of lovers, but not a single love.