Iona allowed herself to be settled in an armchair. When Isobel inquired, Iona explained that, on reading Duncan’s note and realizing what had happened, and what would therefore inevitably occur, she’d decided to speak with the elder Frobishers and break the happy news that they had a nearly eight-year-old grandson they’d known nothing about. “They took it well, I must say.” But when Iona had told them of Isobel’s quest to find Kate, Fergus had revealed that Royd had departed for Freetown on the last leg of some mission. “When we put two and two together and still ended with two, we decided to inquire further. Fergus interrogated the London office and learned of so many Frobisher ships being diverted to Freetown that we came down here to see what’s going on.”
Movement at the door had Isobel straightening. Elaine Frobisher came in on Royd’s arm.
Of average height, Elaine had a wealth of red hair, now faded to a copper brown, and soft hazel eyes. Her face was alight; it was obvious that, despite the circumstances, meeting her grandson had been a moment of joy.
“Isobel.” Elaine released Royd’s arm and held out both hands.
Isobel responded to the gesture and the unvoiced plea in Elaine’s eyes. Royd was Elaine’s firstborn and very close to her heart. Elaine didn’t want any difficulty between them—and neither did she. She gripped Elaine’s fingers and, leaning down, bussed her cheek. “I’m sorry I never told you,” she whispered, “but I couldn’t—not then.”
Elaine drew back; her eyes searched Isobel’s face. “But now?”
Isobel smiled. “Now I think everything’s going to be all right.”
Elaine beamed. “Lovely!” She squeezed Isobel’s hands, then set her free to greet Fergus.
Over the years, Isobel had had more to do with Fergus than she had Elaine; his bluff geniality covered a certain hurt, but he appeared to direct that equally at Royd. After she’d kissed his whiskery cheek, and he’d grumped his usual “Well, miss” at her, he clapped her lightly on the shoulder. “Just give me another grandson-baby, and we’ll say no more about it.”
She laughed, and the last of the tension dissolved.
Duncan appeared delighted to have two new grandparents to add to his supporters. He wriggled into the corner of the chaise between Elaine and Iona in her armchair. Fergus sat beside Elaine. As the younger ladies sank onto the other armchairs and the opposite sofa, Fergus directed a piercing look at his sons. “We haven’t made the journey from Aberdeen to be kept in the dark. So cut line and tell us what you’ve been about.”
“It wasn’t just the four of us.” Royd took a straight-backed chair from a footman and set it between the ends of the sofas. As he sat, he waved at the ladies. “We were all involved.”
Both Fergus and Iona rapped their canes on the floor at the same time. They exchanged a swift glance, then Fergus said, “So tell us.”
“From the beginning, mind,” Iona said. “None of your general summaries that leave out all the dangerous bits.”
As his brothers settled in chairs alongside his, Royd inwardly sighed and complied. He knew better than to do otherwise, not in this company. But he’d be damned if he would do it all alone—he passed the baton to Declan, and Edwina helped by painting their first visit to Freetown in significantly more vivid colors. Then Robert took up the tale, aided by Aileen, while Edwina arranged rooms, and refreshments were served. Caleb started his story by somewhat sheepishly admitting that he’d seized the mission before anyone else could be sent because he’d wanted to test himself and show his true colors.
Royd promptly informed Fergus in advance that Caleb had more than proved himself in the jungle.
Caleb colored, but plowed on, relating his first deeds on reaching the settlement, then he passed the limelight to Kate. Hesitantly at first, then with increasing confidence, she related what life had been like for the captives in the compound, ending with the capture of Caleb and his men—something she plainly considered her fault.
Caleb closed one hand over hers in her lap and explained how that capture and the consequent assimilation of him and his men into the compound’s workforce had proved a critical advantage when the rescue force arrived.
That brought the story back to Royd. Concisely, he described the action, from their first meeting with Decker on his flagship to the final meeting aboard The Corsair. Robert and Declan added the precautions they’d instituted in the settlement before joining Royd in taking the compound.
With his gaze on his son, Royd skipped over the details of the fighting, saying only that the mercenaries had been appropriately dealt with; his parents and Iona knew enough of the world to correctly interpret those words.
He concluded with the avenues currently being pursued by Wolverstone and his colleagues to collect evidence against the backers.
“Ross-Courtney, heh?” Iona sniffed. “Can’t say I’m surprised. He always was a nasty little toad, forever giving himself airs.”
“I’ve crossed paths with Neill,” Fergus said. “Not the sort of man I’d care to do business with.”
Elaine was frowning. “If you haven’t already got sufficient evidence against them...well, you won’t be able to hold men like that for long, will you?”
Royd looked at Isobel. He’d omitted any mention of the necklace.
“That’s why,” Isobel said, accepting the inevitable, “we’ve set up a lure of sorts in the hope we’ll entice the other backers to step forward, and hopefully, one of them will lead us to more readily obtainable evidence we can use to convict all six.”
“What sort of lure?” Iona asked.
Isobel outlined the plan for using the necklace of blue diamonds and showing off the creation at two major ton balls.
Somewhat to Royd’s surprise, Iona and his parents seemed to think the ploy had every chance of success.
At that point, the clock chimed, and Edwina pushed to her feet; her pregnancy was becoming more evident by the day. “I’ve asked for dinner to be moved forward a trifle—you must be tired by the jolting and rattling and will be keen to get a good night’s sleep. The first ball isn’t for several days, so we’ll have time to talk and organize tomorrow.”
Her apparent inclusion of everyone—including Duncan and the elder three—in what was to come left everyone perfectly ready to rise and head upstairs to rest, wash, and change.
Isobel encouraged Duncan to show Fergus to his room. She found herself walking with Elaine out of the drawing room and into the front hall. Most of the others were ahead of them; Isobel saw Kate on the stairs and halted—they’d left Iona in the drawing room.
She was about to turn back when Elaine put a hand on her arm.
“I wonder, my dear, if I could have a word in private.” Elaine’s gentle eyes were smiling. “Perhaps you might show me the garden? I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs in the fresh air—or at least what passes for fresh air down here.”
“Yes, of course.” Isobel realized Royd hadn’t gone past them; he could deal with Iona, she hoped. “The garden’s this way.”
The rear garden of the town house was a pleasant oasis of shrubbery and gravel paths. They stepped outside, and the September evening fell, cool and oddly serene, about them.
Elaine set out along the path, her gaze on the gravel.
Isobel fell in beside her and waited.
She didn’t have to wait long before Elaine said, “I know I speak for Fergus as well as myself on this. We want you to know that, despite all that happened, despite the years since, you’ve been the only woman we could ever imagine Royd marrying. It was always you and only you. His mind—and even more importantly, his heart—never wavered.” Elaine raised her head, and Isobel saw a small, wry smile on her lips. “Never shifted in even the smallest degree—and that wasn’t because we didn’t try to steer him elsewhere.” Her smile bloomed more definitely. “Shifting Royd from any goal he’s s
et his heart on is well-nigh impossible, but I daresay you’re aware of that.”
Isobel snorted softly.
“Indeed, but that wasn’t all I wanted to say. Back then, we all made mistakes—and that includes Fergus and me. When Royd left and didn’t return, I knew Fergus should have told you where he’d gone.”
“Fergus knew?” That was news to Isobel; she’d never imagined Fergus had lied.
“Not as to the place, but he—and I—knew Royd had sailed on a mission for the Crown. That only duty to his country, or being honor bound, could have kept him from returning to you.” Elaine paused, then went on, “I knew you’d visited the office, trying to contact Royd. Duncan told me his age. You were pregnant and trying to reach Royd to tell him—we didn’t bend the rules and help you. That was our mistake. What happened after Royd came back—that was your and his mistakes. And Iona—if she hadn’t insisted on a handfasting in the first place...” Elaine sighed and looked down.
After a moment, she went on, “What I’m trying to say is that, back then, we all contributed—we all played our parts in what happened. We all owe apologies and forgiveness.” She glanced at Isobel and caught her eyes. “It’s all water under the bridge, and if we’re wise, we’ll let the past go and move forward from here.”
Isobel halted; she felt as if a weight she hadn’t realized was there had lifted from her shoulders. She smiled at Elaine. “Thank you for telling me. And I agree—we should take the wiser course.”
Elaine’s face lit with her trademark glorious smile. “Excellent.” Then she paused. A second ticked past, then she refocused on Isobel’s face. “Am I allowed to ask...you and Royd are getting married, aren’t you?”
Isobel laughed. “Oh yes. As soon as this mission is over, and we return to Aberdeen.”
She said it, meant it, and felt the certainty in her soul; marrying Royd was the right path for her.
Elaine beamed. “Lovely!” She turned back to the house. “We’d better go and change.”
“Indeed.” Isobel started back through the greenery with an appreciably lighter step. “Edwina’s a despot—she will not be pleased if we’re late.”
* * *
Royd deliberately hung back in the drawing room to ensure it was left to him to escort Iona up the stairs.
For her part, Isobel’s irascible grandmother made no attempt to rise from her armchair. The instant Caleb’s back cleared the doorway, Iona pointed her cane at Royd and then at the door. “For goodness’ sake, shut the damned thing and come and sit down.”
Lips twisting—in his experience, grinning at Iona was rarely a good idea—he went to obey. As he shut the door, he heard her mutter, “I’m not going to glare up at you—all that will get me is a crick in the neck.”
His brows rose fleetingly; had she just admitted she knew she couldn’t sway him? At least, not with her glares?
He returned and sat on the opposite sofa, directly in Iona’s line of sight.
She nodded approvingly. “Well, here we are—as anyone with a grain of sense could have foretold.”
He couldn’t keep his surprise from his face.
“Pfft!” Iona waved dismissively. “Neither of you have ever changed your mind about anything—not once you’ve made a decision. Be that as it may...” She studied him for several seconds.
He bore the scrutiny with untrammeled ease.
Iona’s eyes narrowed. “It’s no secret that I’ve never believed you worthy of her—and I still don’t. That said, I’ve never thought any man worthy of her—she has depths, and layers, and is so much more than your average young lady.”
“I know.”
“Hmm...perhaps you do. Now.” Iona shifted, leaning on her cane. “But as she’s chosen you—again and still—and there’s Duncan as well to think of, I won’t be opposing a marriage between you.” Her eyes bored into him. “Assuming, of course, that’s the direction you’re taking?”
He nodded. “Definitely. We’ll be marrying as soon as this business is dealt with and we return to Aberdeen.”
Iona nodded in turn. “Very well. But hear me well.” She trapped Royd’s gaze. “If you hurt her again, I will have your guts for garters.” She paused, then added, “Believe it.”
Royd had always known where Isobel got her bloodthirsty streak. But whether he believed Iona or not... “You have my word that you will never have cause to regret giving your blessing to our marriage. I know it will mean a great deal to Isobel.”
“Yes, well.” Iona heaved herself to her feet. “She never would see sense—not when it came to you.”
Royd rose and ventured a smile, one Iona did not take badly. She motioned for him to lend her his arm, which he dutifully did, and they left the room and climbed the stairs in greater harmony than he’d ever anticipated sharing with Isobel’s formidable grandmama.
CHAPTER 16
Royd escorted Isobel through the ornate doorway of the Wolverstone House ballroom. Even though, in ton terms, it was relatively early, the room was crowded, and the stairs and front hall were jammed with guests making their way to the receiving line. That line currently snaked from Wolverstone and Minerva, standing just ahead, across the foyer, and down the stairs.
Regardless of everyone’s preoccupation, the lady gliding beside him drew all eyes. She’d already been responsible for four different people tripping and nearly falling down the stairs. He set his jaw and pretended not to notice the stares, let alone the speculation that immediately sprang to life in so many eyes—male as well as female.
And then there were the whispers.
Although far removed from London society, the women in the compound had chosen correctly in giving the diamonds to Isobel. The gown she wore tonight had been created to showcase Rundell, Bridge, and Rundell’s most fabulous creation. Somewhat to his surprise, it had been Iona who had insisted Isobel needed “the right” gown. Even more surprisingly, his mother had joined the chorus, and the entire female above-stairs contingent of Stanhope Street had rolled away in carriages to visit warehouses and modistes.
If he’d known what the result of their efforts would be, he would have found some way to stop them. When Isobel had walked down the stairs this evening, his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he’d been literally unable to speak. Even Duncan, darting about examining all the nattily dressed gentlemen and ladies, had stopped and stared.
Royd had known Isobel for most of his life, had grown accustomed to having her beside him; apparently, he’d forgotten how magnificent she truly was—his Amazon.
She looked every inch a regal warrior-queen, in sleek silk the color of the late evening sky in those moments before it turned black. Against the alabaster skin of her bosom shone the blue diamonds, set in plain gold with nothing to detract from the stones’ fire. The result was austere yet dazzlingly gorgeous—the stones blazed with a stark blue radiance that was literally riveting.
Once seen, it was difficult to look away, and that wasn’t simply a matter of expensive silk and stones. It was Isobel herself; she possessed both the grace and the ineffable confidence to carry the moment—and the gown and the necklace—off. On most other ladies, the same gown and necklace simply wouldn’t have had the same, almost shocking impact.
About them, conversations stuttered, then halted, before starting up again even more avidly.
They reached Minerva, whose face lit as the guest she’d just welcomed moved off and she finally saw them.
Isobel curtsied. Royd bowed, and they murmured the usual pleasantries.
Minerva nodded meaningfully. “Excellent!” Her eyes alight, she passed them on to Wolverstone, standing beside her.
Wolverstone arched his brows. They went through the motions, but as the duke straightened from bowing over Isobel’s hand, he murmured, “If that doesn’t lure them out, nothing will.”
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Royd managed not to grunt.
He led Isobel to a group of friends, a predetermined next step. All those involved in the effort to identify the backers and collect the necessary evidence to convict them had met at St. Ives House at the—for the ton—unholy hour of ten o’clock that morning. Devil Cynster, Duke of St. Ives, and his duchess, Honoria, would be hosting the second ball, should it be necessary, but they were all working on the assumption that they would need two nights to draw at least two more of the backers into their net. Honoria had suggested using their house for the meeting, so that anyone happening to notice the people coming and going would think it more to do with their event and not the Wolverstone House affair.
The meeting had, in essence, been a foregathering of their troops—an opportunity for all those willing to be involved to meet Isobel, and for her to meet them. As well as St. Ives and Honoria, three of his cousins and their wives had joined the group, as had several other couples Dearne and his marchioness, Letitia, had recruited. Carstairs had been there, with his wife, Loretta, and three other couples he introduced as those involved in bringing down the fabled Black Cobra. Wolverstone and Minerva, and Jack Hendon and his wife, Katherine—another Kit—had been there, as well as all the Frobishers and their ladies, and Iona, who, it transpired, was well known to both Minerva and Honoria, as well as Letitia and several other ladies.
The Carmody matriarch’s reach was greater than Royd had appreciated.
As usual, it had been Wolverstone who had called the meeting to order; he’d explained their strategy and the tactics they intended to employ. Because this was a ball and there were so many uninvolved and unaware sharing their stage, of necessity, those tactics had to be fluid, able to respond to situations as they evolved.
The critical point, one Wolverstone had stressed, was that Isobel should never be out of sight of at least two of their number, and if anyone, male or female, approached and asked her about the necklace, at least two of them should converge to a distance close enough to overhear the exchange.
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