“I’m going with Evie and Lucinda,” the viscountess stated.
“I want Edward with me,” Saint said, ruffling the boy’s hair.
“But where are we going?” Edward wanted to know.
“I’ll take White’s,” Wycliffe volunteered, “since half the Carroways are banned from the club. And the Society.”
“We’ll take the rest,” Dare said, clapping Andrew on the arm. “And his house, in case he’s still there.”
“Bond Street,” Evie suggested, and Lucinda nodded. It would be very like Geoffrey to go and purchase her a trinket to apologize to her once this mess had all been blamed on Robert. In addition, half the female population of Mayfair would be there at this time of morning; dozens of sympathetic ears for handsome Geoffrey’s rumors.
“Piccadilly,” Saint suggested.
“And I’ll take Covent Garden.” Bradshaw pulled on his riding gloves.
They headed out to the stables. While Dare helped Georgiana into Lucinda’s curricle, she glanced at Robert’s rose garden. One of the cuttings had actually sprouted buds. She smiled. Since she’d become involved with Robert she felt as though she’d bloomed, herself.
Dare handed her up. “The three of you be careful,” he warned. “Geoffrey was ready to betray his country. I don’t think he would hesitate to hurt one of you.”
“Ha,” Lucinda returned. “He’ll wish he had the chance.”
Taking up the reins, she clucked to her pair of grays, and they trotted down the drive. “I’m glad we’re doing something,” she said, after a few minutes of tense silence. “I don’t think I could tolerate just sitting about, waiting to hear.”
Seated in the back, Evie leaned forward between them. “Georgiana, guess what I saw at Tattersall’s.”
Lucinda blushed. “Evie, we’re on a mission.”
“What did you see?” Georgiana asked.
“I saw two people kissing. And not just kissing. Throwing their arms around each other and practically swooning to the ground.”
“We were not swooning,” Lucinda snapped, her face warming further.
Georgie looked at her, surprise and then comprehension dawning in her green eyes. “You and Bit,” she said slowly.
“I—I don’t know how it happened. He’s just…he’s remarkable,” she stumbled. “So much more than he realizes.”
“You might have told me,” Georgiana returned. “How serious are you?”
So serious she couldn’t sleep without dreaming of him, or go through a day without thinking about him every two minutes. So serious that if he had to flee the country, she would go with him, or follow. “I think that’s between Robert and me.”
“Luce, you can’t—”
“Look, we’re here,” she said gratefully. “Geoffrey left Barrett House on his chestnut gelding.”
“Let’s drive up the street first, and then work our way back on foot.”
On first glance she didn’t see Geoffrey’s chestnut, Hercules, but there were numerous alleys and side streets where a gentleman could leave a horse. At the far end of the street they stopped, hopping—and in Georgiana’s case, carefully creeping—to the ground.
Every sense felt alert as Lucinda led the way through the shopping district. She wanted to be the one to find Geoffrey. He’d tried to destroy Robert. He’d courted her, and kissed her, and proposed to her, all the while plotting to sell classified information to France and begin another war. Another war where someone else might be hurt as Robert had been.
“Luce, slow down,” Evie called from behind, where she walked arm in arm with Georgie.
“I don’t want him to get away,” she returned, glancing over her shoulder at her friends. When she faced forward again she stopped so abruptly they nearly ran into her. “There,” she hissed.
The tail end of Geoffrey’s gray coat vanished into a sweet shop. Backing up, the three friends ducked into the nearest alley.
“Are you certain that was him?” Georgie asked.
“Oh, yes.”
Evie nodded. “All right. We can’t race back with Georgie, so the two of you wait here, and I’ll go tell Dawkins. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” With that the marchioness hurried up the alley.
“We need to keep an eye on him,” Georgiana said, edging back toward the street. “If he leaves before anyone else gets here, we’ll have to start the search all over again.”
Lucinda took a deep breath, trying to still the nervous fluttering of her heart. It wasn’t just she who was involved here. Georgiana was only a few weeks from giving birth, and the excitement couldn’t be at all good for her. “Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll follow him?”
“We’ll go together.”
“Why don’t we all take a walk?” Geoffrey’s voice came from the alley entrance.
Oh, no. Lucinda’s first concern was for Georgiana, but when she glanced at the viscountess, her friend’s expression was more angry than frightened. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Robert had a special place in Georgie’s heart, and Geoffrey had threatened him.
“Geoffrey,” she said, thankful her voice sounded steady. “Thank goodness. Georgie was feeling a little faint. I do hope you’re not so angry with me that you won’t render us assistance.”
With a nod, he strolled closer. “Of course I’ll assist you,” he returned. “Where did your friend Lady St. Aubyn go?”
“She went to fetch Dare,” Lucinda answered. “We thought it would be easier to get Georgie home in their coach.”
“Good thinking. Why don’t we make for the Dulcé Café? We’ll be able to have a seat there while you wait for reinforcements.”
Lucinda didn’t like the way he worded that, but as long as they were in public he wasn’t likely to attempt anything dastardly. He took Georgiana’s arm and led the way back to the main thoroughfare.
She didn’t think for a moment that he believed her, but as long as he went along with the deception they had time, and time was all they needed. At least seven gentlemen would be on their way in just a few minutes—unless, of course, something went wrong at the Horse Guards. Her throat tightened at the thought of Robert being arrested and dragged into a dark cell in one of the building’s ample lower levels.
Whatever he’d told her father, the general had seemed to believe him. Her father, though, wasn’t the only authority at the Horse Guards. Please let Robert be all right, she said to herself, even as she kept a close eye on Geoffrey. They all needed to get out of this in one piece—all of them except, perhaps, for Lord Geoffrey Newcombe.
Whatever Geoffrey had planned, he walked them to the café and sat between the two of them at one of the outdoor tables. To anyone else they must look just as he intended—a courting couple with their highly respectable chaperone. When he scooted his chair a little closer to her, however, she had to make herself stay where she was, keeping up the pretense of being pleased by his timely rescue. And then something hard touched her side, and she glanced down to see the distinctive outline of a pistol through his jacket pocket.
“Stay still, Luce,” he murmured. “We’re all friendly here.”
“What are you doing?” she whispered back, noting from Georgie’s widened eyes that she had seen the movement.
“Just waiting to see who comes to retrieve the two of you. A man has to protect his assets.”
“With a pistol?”
He signaled a footman with his free hand. “Might we have some tea and biscuits?” he asked.
“Right away, my lord.”
“Geoffrey, this is ridiculous. Yesterday we were discussing marriage.”
“I was discussing marriage. You were apparently having a bit of fun at my expense. My home was broken into while we were at Tattersall’s, you know.”
“It was? My goodness! Did you inform the authorities?”
“I did. Thankfully, my servants were able to give a very good description of one of the participants.” He turned his gaze on Georgie. “I’m sorry to tell you that it was yo
ur brother-in-law, Robert. Obviously he’s completely lost his mind. I only hope he can be brought in peacefully for questioning. I would hate to see him shot and killed like a rabid dog.”
Lucinda’s fear evaporated. Abruptly she wanted to punch Lord Geoffrey very hard, and wipe the smug, confident smile off his handsome face. “If you harm him, you won’t live to see prison,” she said very quietly.
“My dear, people like me don’t go to prison. We get thanked by the Prince Regent for our duty to the Crown, and we get our promotion and make our fortune, precisely as we planned.”
Her father galloped around the corner, Dare and Bradshaw on either side. Where was Robert? What had happened to Robert?
“Well, this is interesting. No coach for our dear Lady Dare.”
“They must have misunderstood.”
“Newcombe!” her father bellowed. “Move away from the table.”
“General Barrett? What in the world is wrong?” Geoffrey said, lifting an eyebrow. “Try to calm yourself, sir. Your daughter and I are merely having a chat. Perfectly respectable, I assure you.”
The diners at the surrounding tables began muttering to one another, but Lucinda kept her eyes on her father, willing him to realize that Geoffrey held a weapon. Dare looked angry but not alarmed, his own attention on his pale-cheeked wife.
Lucinda forced a smile. “Good heavens, Papa. You look as though you expect a flurry of weapons fire or something. As Geoffrey said, we’re just chatting.”
Dare’s face went white, and her father’s jaw clenched. They understood, thank goodness. “Geoffrey, this is gaining you nothing,” the general said, his voice controlled and compelling. “Why don’t you come along with us? We only want to talk.”
“I’m quite comfortable here, thank you. Where might your blackguard of a brother be, Dare? He’s been saying some nasty things about me.”
“He’s under arrest at the Horse Guards because of you,” Tristan returned. “Apparently now someone is accusing him of breaking into your house. I would like you to come with us to refute that.”
“He did break into my house, no doubt in an attempt to plant the papers he stole from the Horse Guards.”
“Geoffrey, put away your pistol, and we’ll talk.” General Barrett held out both hands, as though to show that he wasn’t armed.
All around them, diners began evacuating the tables. In a moment the street was lined with people and they sat alone in the café, just the three of them and Geoffrey’s pistol. At least he’d pointed it at her, Lucinda reflected, and not at Georgiana. Apparently murdering a pregnant viscountess was too much, even for a traitor.
“Let Georgiana go,” she whispered. “I’ll stay here.”
“I like sitting between two lovely ladies. You’re comfortable here, aren’t you, Lady Dare?”
“I’m afraid all the hot air coming from you is making me a bit lightheaded,” Georgie snapped. “Put your damned gun away. If you hurt either of us you’ll be grateful you can only die once.”
“Ah, so we’re not being polite any longer? What a shame. This afternoon has been so pleasant.”
“And getting more so by the minute,” Robert’s hard voice came from directly behind them. Geoffrey’s head went forward, as though he was bowing. As Lucinda turned to look, though, she realized his sudden contrition was because Robert was pushing the muzzle of a pistol hard against the back of Geoffrey’s skull.
“I’ll shoot her, Carroway,” Geoffrey snarled, all the amiable attitude gone from his voice.
“You can go to prison, or you can go to hell, Newcombe,” Robert’s cold, deadly voice came again. “You always have a chance of getting out of one of them, but the decision’s yours.”
Slowly the hard jab of the pistol left her side. “Georgiana, come with me,” Lucinda said, keeping her voice low and quiet so she wouldn’t rattle either man.
Swinging around the table she took Georgie’s hand to pull her to her feet, and they backed away. In a moment Dare shoved his body in front of the two of them, and her father gripped her shoulder hard.
“Lucinda, are you hurt?” he rumbled.
She kept her gaze on Robert and Geoffrey, both as unmoving as statues. “I’m fine. Robert, we’re fine,” she repeated in a louder voice.
“Throw your damned pistol away,” Robert growled through clenched teeth.
Geoffrey complied. “All right, Carroway. You’ve won,” he snapped. “We can be gentlemen about this.”
“I don’t think we can.” Robert didn’t look as though he was finished with anything. He didn’t even seem to be breathing, he stood so still, all of his attention on the man seated in front of him.
“Don’t do it, Bit,” Dare breathed, and abruptly Lucinda realized just how much trouble Geoffrey was in. He’d committed the cardinal sin; he’d threatened the lives of people Robert cared about.
Oh, no. Oh, no. Lucinda took a step forward, only to have her father’s hand clamp down harder on her shoulder.
“Stay here,” he said.
Shrugging free of her father’s grip, she took another slow step forward. Robert hadn’t moved; he still had the pistol shoved against the back of Geoffrey’s head, the weapon gripped so hard in his hand that his knuckles showed white.
“Robert,” she said quietly, moving to the far side of the table and laying her hands flat on its surface. “He’s going to prison, just as you said. You did it.”
His jaw worked. “He turned a pistol on you,” he rasped.
“I’m not hurt.”
“She’s not hurt, Carroway. For Christ’s sake.”
“Geoffrey, shut up,” she ordered, keeping her voice calm. “He hasn’t gotten away with anything, Robert. Bit.” Keeping her hands in front of her, she walked around the side of the table. “If you kill him, you’ll have to go to prison. I don’t want you to go to prison, Bit. I want you here, with me.”
Geoffrey made a whimpering sound, but apparently he believed the threat to be real enough that he kept his mouth shut as she’d told him to. A muscle in Robert’s jaw jumped, and abruptly she was aware of how quiet everything had become.
“It’s just us, Robert.” She put a hand on his shoulder, running it slowly down his outstretched arm until her hand covered his.
“I know. I know.” With a deep, shuddering breath he relaxed, lifting his hand and turning it so she could take the pistol.
Just as she did, Geoffrey slammed back in his chair. The three of them tumbled to the ground in a writhing heap, and the pistol went flying. Panicked, Lucinda scrambled backward. Snarling, Geoffrey rolled onto his hands and knees and lunged at Robert. She screamed.
Robert ducked sideways, keeping himself between Geoffrey and her. With a quick, hard jab he sent Geoffrey reeling again. Without pause he threw himself onto Geoffrey, slamming him into the ground and smashing his fist again and again into Newcombe’s stomach, his ribs, and his face.
“You don’t know what it is to fight for your life, do you?” he hissed, yanking Geoffrey up by his lapels. “You’re about to find out.” He shoved hard, and Geoffrey went backward through the café table.
“Robert, stop!”
Dare and Shaw swarmed up on either side of them, dragging Geoffrey backward, away from Robert. As soon as they had him in hand, Lucinda scrambled to her feet and wrapped her arms around Robert. People would talk, people would gossip, and she didn’t care. His body shook, and after a moment his arms came up around her back, pulling her to him.
“I would die again for you, Lucinda,” he murmured.
“I don’t want you to die for me. I want you to live.” Pulling his face down, she kissed him. Again and again, until he kissed her back with growing passion and until his body stopped shuddering. “I love you,” she whispered against his mouth, knowing he wouldn’t—couldn’t—say it, himself.
And then he surprised her. “I love you, Lucinda,” he whispered back. “I wish I could be what you want.”
She lifted her head to look him in his deep blue
eyes. “You are what I want, Robert. Even before I knew.”
“I can’t…be like other men,” he returned, heat coming into his gaze, filling her heart with its fire. “I can try, but I—”
“Lesson number three was to have interests outside your physical appearance,” she said, swiping hair from his left eye. “Lesson number four was to be able to show the same regard to my father’s back as you show to his face. I know you don’t like him, but you’ve shown him more respect than Geoffrey could ever dream of. You’re him, Robert. You’re the one I’ve been looking for. I don’t want simple. I want you.”
“You want me,” he repeated, the tension slowly leaving his face. The soft, hesitant smile curved his lips. “You’re very foolish.”
“No, I’m finally not being foolish.”
He leaned down again and kissed her, soft and light as a feather. “Are you certain about that?”
“Yes, I’m certain.”
He took a breath, his eyes lighting to azure. “Will you marry me, Lucinda? Will you stay with me?”
She nodded. “I will marry you, and I will stay with you, Robert. I wouldn’t be happy anywhere else.”
“I couldn’t breathe without you, I don’t think.”
Dare appeared at his brother’s shoulder. “And he’d definitely kill the roses without your help,” he said, the glint in his eyes far more meaningful than the light smile on his face.
“Yes, there is that,” Robert agreed, tightening his grip around her waist and lifting her off the ground. “You brought me back to life.”
She wiped an abrupt tear from her cheek. How odd that she was crying, when she was so happy, and relieved, and hopeful in his arms. “I think you taught me what being alive is. So we’re even.”
The rest of their army had arrived, Saint holding onto Edward’s arm to keep the boy from kicking the kneeling Geoffrey in the head. They stood with varying degrees of surprise and approval on their faces. Even her father didn’t look terribly upset. Whatever they’d spoken about in his office, the general had obviously been supremely impressed.
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