by Meara Platt
“My dear girl, I asked for an honest answer, not a public spanking.” His eyes were gray embers, dark and stormy.
Crumpets.
She wouldn’t blame Ronan if he throttled her.
If the duke were a dragon, he’d have flames snorting through his nose.
Had she just ruined Ronan’s chances on this vote?
CHAPTER TEN
Ronan’s heart sank as he watched Dahlia being escorted back to his side by the Duke of Stoke. Dear heaven, what had she said to him? The man was grinding his teeth, and she looked to be in a panic.
He happened to be chatting with the Lord Admiral while Dahlia and the duke had been dancing. “Hellfire, Brayden. This looks bad.”
“I know, my lord. I’ll take full responsibility, of course. Miss Farthingale isn’t to blame. I tossed an innocent lamb into the jaws of that wolf.”
“No, son. It is my fault for forcing you into this bad idea. I hope your knees are in better shape than mine. I think we’re going to be doing a lot of groveling before Stoke in the coming days.”
The duke turned his angry gaze on Ronan. “I’ll have a word with you, Brayden. Now.” He spoke more politely to Dahlia, bowing over her hand. “Miss Farthingale, our time together has been...enlightening. Would you mind if I stole your captain away for a few minutes? I’m sure the Lord Admiral won’t mind entertaining you until his return.”
She nodded.
Ronan strode off with the duke. They stepped outdoors onto the balcony for privacy. Despite the cold, neither of them felt chilled. Ronan was certain they were both too hot and angry, and the temperature between them was about to rise even further.
He waited for the duke to speak first. “Miss Farthingale insulted me.”
Ronan arched an eyebrow, trying to stifle his amusement, which would only take matters from bad to not-a-chance-in-hell-the-vote-will-pass. “She did?”
“I asked her to speak honestly, and she unloaded her full artillery. She’s quite a girl.”
“I think so. Your Grace, what did she say to you?”
Stoke leaned against the balustrade and stared out into the darkened garden. “She called me venal and manipulative.”
“Lord, have mercy.” Ronan knew he should not be laughing, but he was about to spend the rest of his days swabbing the deck of the ugliest, most sea-unworthy vessel in the navy. He no longer cared what the duke thought of him. The punishment could not be any worse.
He tossed his head back and laughed.
To his utter shock, the duke burst out laughing as well. “She is right, Brayden. I have been a monumental arse. I want you to know that you will have my vote. Not only that, I will actively support your appropriations and encourage others in the House of Lords to do the same.”
Ronan was stunned. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“No, thank your young lady. Sometimes we are so caught up in ourselves that we lose sight of what’s important. Are you in love with Miss Farthingale?”
“Yes, Your Grace. Utterly infatuated. From the moment I set eyes on her.”
He grunted. “I’m not surprised. Do not let her slip away.”
“I don’t intend to.” But neither would he push her before she was ready to commit her heart to him.
He thought the conversation would now end and expected the duke to walk back into the house, but he didn’t. “Who is this fellow, Wainscott?”
Ronan’s humor immediately fled. “A bounder.”
“I saw him menacing Miss Farthingale earlier this evening. They were standing about where we are standing now. Then you came along, and he fled. What is his business with her?”
“He has none, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Yes, yes. I know you wish to protect her. But I wish to know more about this man and what passed between them. Tell me all you know.”
Ronan found the request odd but saw no harm in telling him. The news was already circulating in ton circles. He preferred the duke to learn the truth, not some distorted secondhand gossip encouraged by Wainscott to embarrass Dahlia. “He had made certain promises to her, led her to believe a betrothal was forthcoming. In the meanwhile, he was secretly courting the Earl of Balliwick’s daughter, Lady Alexandra.”
He nodded. “She’s a nice girl. No brains, though. Her father’s fairly dim, too.”
Ronan figured they would have to be in order to align themselves with Wainscott. “He revealed the news of his betrothal to Balliwick’s daughter in a most heinous manner, purposely designed to impose maximum hurt and humiliation on Miss Farthingale. She did nothing to deserve such ill-treatment.”
“Yet, he does not take his eyes off Miss Farthingale. Why is that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. If he comes near her, I will kill him.”
“Don’t speak such utter nonsense, Brayden. You are far more clever than that.”
Ronan raked a hand through his hair. “The man is lower than the slime beneath my boots. I am not at all clever when it comes to dealing with him. I just want to rip him apart with my bare hands. Dahlia...that is, Miss Farthingale, won’t let me.”
“She is right. You would only hurt yourself.”
“Perhaps, but I still want to do it. I won’t, of course. Unless he attempts to harm her. Then I will do it with a smile on my face.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” He sighed and shook his head. “Despite her forthright manner...a little too forthright for my taste...I like your Miss Farthingale. Do you think she would help my daughter?”
“Do you mean help with Lady Melinda’s elusive marquess?”
He snorted. “If the man even exists, which I am beginning to doubt. She won’t name him. No one knows who he is. I am sorry now that I gave her such a hard time over you. Miss Farthingale, while sternly berating me over my treatment of you, told me that my own daughter had better sense when it came to choosing a husband for herself.”
Ronan winced. “Blessed saints, she said that?”
Lord, she’d taken Stoke to the woodshed and whipped him soundly.
“I don’t suppose your courtship of Miss Farthingale is merely a ruse, and you’d be willing to court my daughter? I would not forbid it this time around.”
Ronan shook his head. “I am in love with Miss Farthingale. No ruse, Your Grace. I’d marry her tomorrow if she’d let me.”
“She said as much. I’d like to introduce her to my daughter. I’m truly worried about Melinda. Do you think she would agree to help me? Can I offer her anything in return?”
“She might agree to help you, but don’t bribe her to do it. She’ll take offense. These Farthingales do things from the kindness of their heart. Just ask her straight out.”
“I will. Not tonight. I think she’s boxed my ears enough for one evening.” He turned to walk back inside. “Will she be at Lord Fielding’s dinner party?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Good. She and I will chat then. I’ll ask Lady Fielding to seat her beside me. It’s a break with the rules of etiquette, but what’s the use of being a duke if I can’t be obnoxious and demanding?” He returned inside.
Ronan remained on the balcony, raking a hand through his hair and wondering what had just happened. He laughed as he sauntered in to rejoin Dahlia and the Lord Admiral. They were standing at the same spot where he’d left them, both still sporting worried expressions.
The Lord Admiral noted his smile. “Did you manage to repair the damage, Brayden?”
Dahlia was wringing her hands. “Oh, please say you did.”
“There is no damage to repair. The duke apologized to me and assured me that we will have his vote. Not only that, but he’ll throw his full support to us to be sure our budget request passes.” He turned to Dahlia. “This is your doing. He was thoroughly charmed by you. In fact, he’s going to ask Lady Fielding to seat you next to him at tomorrow’s party.”
The Lord Admiral emitted a sigh of relief. “Well done, Miss Farthingale.”
She shook
her head. “I’m not sure what I did. I thought I had angered him, and he was livid.”
“You were honest with him, and he sorely needed it. Everyone panders to him. He recognized you as a person he could trust. It seems to be a precious commodity these days. However, tomorrow try to be a little more restrained in your opinions. I think you’ve sent him home with a blistered backside.”
The Lord Admiral laughed. “Well, my thanks for saving the Royal Navy. I shall leave you to Captain Brayden now.”
He bowed over her hand and then left them.
“So, I didn’t sink your best-laid plans?” She smiled at him.
“No, Queen Pea. You were brilliant. Would you care to dance? Stoke stole the last waltz from me. They’re about to play another, and I have a desperate need to hold you in my arms.”
“I think that would be lovely. But isn’t it unusual to play so many waltzes in an evening?”
“It is, but Lady Broadhurst has a daughter making her come-out. Three waltzes, three potential suitors. All rules are tossed out the window for this matchmaking mama.”
“I won’t complain. There is something quite heavenly about being in your arms.”
“Feeling is mutual.” There was a new awareness thrumming through him. Something had changed between them, and it took him halfway through their waltz to realize what it was. In helping him with the duke, they had just formed a very important connection. This had nothing to do with his response to her body or her beauty, which seemed to grow more spectacular with each passing moment.
This had to do with her becoming a part of his life. His assignment as navy liaison to Parliament defined him as a man. It was a prestigious position, even though it was not one he would have preferred for himself.
He would have been happiest in command of a battleship.
But liaison was the job he had been tasked to do. This evening, Dahlia had come through for him, saving his arse. More important, she’d saved him while remaining true to herself. For the first time, he realized how much richer every aspect of his life would be with her in it.
Until this moment, he had been thinking of her primarily as a pleasing bed mate. He had also been thinking of her as a wife and the perfect mother for their children, should they be blessed with them.
Those were important, of course. But he had not considered her as a confidante and partner in every aspect of his life. When it came to matters beyond their domestic life, he had only been thinking about what he could offer her.
Offer her marriage.
Offer his protection.
Provide a home for her.
Protect their children, should they have any.
He’d never once given thought to all she would add to his life. But he understood now what the author of The Book of Love had been describing. It wasn’t merely about the senses. It was about the connections one built over the course of a marriage. It was about the strengths in each that enhanced the other.
He did not know if the Lord Admiral would ask for more from Dahlia. But knowing she could handle whatever they tossed her way was a source of pride for him. Also, she offered a fresh perspective. As helpful as Joshua and Robbie always were, the three of them were often of one mind.
Dahlia would bring not only a fresh opinion but a woman’s opinion. Other men might dismiss it, but he’d been raised by a fierce, intelligent, and independent mother. He understood the value of her thoughts. Of course, he was not going to divulge military secrets to Dahlia. But his everyday worries?
“You are looking at me so oddly, Ronan.”
They were spinning around the room along with the other couples, flowing to the music in a smoothly moving current. “Am I?”
“Yes. You are looking at me as though you are seeing me clearly for the first time.”
“I am, Queen Pea. I thought I understood what the book described. But it is only now that I realize the full impact of the advice. We look at a person, but what do we really see? What we want to see. What we expect to see. But if we clear away our preconceptions and open ourselves to all possibilities, we suddenly notice an entirely new world set out before us.”
He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but to do so amid a crowd was out of the question. Once he did tell her, he intended to seal the declaration with a kiss. Perhaps a string of kisses.
Perhaps more.
Definitely more.
He wanted to devour this girl.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” he said, his voice husky as he struggled to hold back the words she was not yet ready to hear. But he wanted her to know that he was not going away. “You and me. I want you in my life forever.”
“Don’t say anything more, Ronan.” He felt her tremble in his arms. “Let’s wait until your vote is over. I may have done you a good turn this evening, but I could be the goat tomorrow.”
When the dance ended, the Lord Admiral called Ronan over. “Something’s come up. We have to go. Nothing to do with the vote. Forgive us, Miss Farthingale. And thank you again for all you did for us this evening.”
Ronan took a moment to escort her to a group of her cousins who were clustered in a circle beside the balcony doors and merrily chatting away. He led her to them, knowing they would keep her safe from Wainscott. But he frowned at her to emphasize his concern. “Do not leave them.”
She smiled at him. “I won’t. If they migrate to the food, I shall migrate right along with them and keep to the middle of the herd.”
“Brayden, let’s go,” the Lord Admiral said impatiently.
“Until tomorrow, Queen Pea.” He raised her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it.
He dared not look back once he strode off.
Dahlia was not a child. She would know better than to give Wainscott the chance to find her alone again.
“What has happened, my lord? Who has summoned us?” They grabbed their cloaks and hurried out the door to the Lord Admiral’s waiting carriage.
“Lord Liverpool. He’s assembled his cabinet ministers at Westminster Hall and wants us there immediately.”
Damn. This had to be something serious. Lord Liverpool led Parliament. He was the most powerful man in England, save for the royal family. Arguably, he was even more powerful than the royals. Ronan’s eyebrows arched upward in surprise. “Any indication of why he needs us so urgently?”
“No.” He rubbed a hand across his furrowed brow. “We’ll find out soon enough. Merciful heavens, I am too old for this. My appointment as First Naval Lord was meant merely as a political favor.”
“The sea is in your blood, my lord. They knew what they were doing when they put you in charge. If not for you, the civilians on the Admiralty board would have made a political mess of the Royal Navy.”
The Parliament buildings were shuttered for the night, only the usual guards standing at the various entrances. Ronan was familiar to these soldiers since he often worked late into the evening. They were allowed in without question.
Each hallway had guards stationed at the ends. There were more guards posted in front of the banqueting hall. Once again, they were immediately allowed in. Ronan’s gaze took in Lord Liverpool and ten of his cabinet ministers assembled, all of them looking quite grim.
More than grim, for there was so much tension in the room, it was like a powder keg. One had only to strike a match to set off an explosion.
Ronan’s first thought was an attempt had been made upon the life of the king, for King George IV had only been crowned a few months ago. He had served as Prince Regent during his father’s reign but had been officially invested and crowned only earlier this year.
Since Ronan was the lowest ranking individual in the room, he said nothing, merely listened while the ministers began to explain what had happened. “This is disastrous,” Lord Liverpool said. “First the Peterloo massacre, then the Cato Street conspiracy. Now a mob in Tilbury has seized The Invictus and is threatening to blow it up.”
“What!” The Lord Admiral was livid.
Had it been on its way to London?
What idiot had ordered this?
And why did its admiral in command not ignore the order?
“How did The Invictus get to Tilbury?” he asked. “Why would this vessel be anywhere near there? Portsmouth or Harwich are the closest deepwater ports able to accommodate these large-hulled ships.”
Apparently, he had asked a sensitive question.
These politicians were glowering at him instead of providing information.
He inhaled sharply. “Oh, hell. Did it run aground?” He bit his cheek to stop himself from saying more. Obviously, one or more of the men seated here, perhaps Liverpool himself, had demanded the ship to call in at the port of London.
No doubt, the intention was to show it off to the local citizenry and the well-heeled members of the ton. It would not surprise him to learn that a young lady or two had been promised a tour of The Invictus by one of these lords hoping to impress said young ladies.
“Watch yourself, Captain Brayden.” One of Liverpool’s cabinet members, a debauched peer he recognized as Lord Peckham, was glaring at him. The man sat on the Admiralty board, a civilian, as most of these board members were, and likely was the one who’d gotten them into this mess. “We are not schoolboys to have our ears boxed by a young upstart such as yourself.”
“Of course, my lord. I meant no disrespect.” Bloody fool. He ground his teeth in frustration. Dahlia had just saved the navy budget, and now Lord Peckham’s idiocy was about to sink it. “Do we know who is leading this mob?”
He doubted there was any leader or organized assault. The mob in question was likely fishermen angered by the presence of this behemoth blocking their vessels from sailing to London to sell their fish or venturing out to the North Sea to catch more.