“Shush, it will be all right,” he said with a tender smile. “I will take care of you.”
“Yes,” she replied. “I do believe you will.”
And she did believe it. His words, softly spoken and persuasive, were all that was necessary to convince her. With Amos and his powerful family fighting for her cause, she no longer felt quite so isolated, so alone, or so ashamed of what she had become.
Her new-found confidence faltered when they walked into the library and she saw her uncle there with the duke and Lord Romsey. He would take one look at her and know precisely what occupation had detained them on the terrace. She had already been such a trial to her uncle, and did not wish to add loose behaviour to her tally of misdemeanours, losing even more of his respect. God’s beard, she was making a complete mull of everything! The duke’s good opinion was so important to Uncle Charles, she could not bear for him to think he had lost it thanks to her activities. She flew across the room and threw her arms around his neck.
“Uncle, the duke knows everything, but it will be all right,” she said, the words tumbling past her lips in a breathless rush. “We are going to−”
“There, there, child, don’t fret.” He patted her hand and gently detached her arms from around his neck. “The duke understands the pressure that was placed upon us and graciously does not blame us.”
“I can still scarce believe it.” Crista shook her head. “I would never have imagined−”
“Please have a seat, Miss Brooke,” the duke said. “Lord Romsey and I have been discussing the matter while you were outside, and have come up with a plan.”
“Then let’s hear it,” Amos said amiably, standing directly behind her chair with a propriety hand resting on its back.
“You don’t have the diamonds in your possession?” Lord Romsey affirmed.
“Quite so,” Crista replied. “I have not even touched them. Reece merely showed them to us and then whipped them away again.”
The duke nodded. “But you have the designs and know the precise dimensions of the stones?”
“Yes, your grace. I cannot make the settings without that information.”
“How long will it take you to make up those settings?”
“Would it serve you better if I was swift, or if I took my time?” Crista asked.
It was Lord Romsey who answered her. “Such delicate work must require precision.”
Crista bit her lip, feeling an inappropriate smile attempting to escape. “In that case, at least five days.”
“Hmm, five days will be perfect. I ought to be able to put arrangements in place in that time.” He went on to explain the precise nature of their plan. “There is negligible danger from your perspective, Miss Brooke. I would not have suggested it otherwise. Little is required of you, other than to do as Reece has asked.” He sent her a conspiratorial smile. “With one major adjustment, of course.”
“Oh, of course.” Crista’s smile probably reflected the relief she felt at being able to fight back, at last. “Indeed there is not the least possibility of my being caught. Reece does not watch me that closely, and so I am sure I can manage my part.” She turned to her uncle. “Do you agree?”
Her uncle’s beaming smile was a joy to behold. Crista realised now that she had not once seen that smile since Reece came into their lives. “I think it is inspired,” he said.
“Especially since no blame can possibly attach to either of you,” the duke added.
“There is just one difficulty,” Crista said, feeling disappointed that it would not be possible to put the duke’s plan into effect after all. “My mother and sister will be in danger. They might take their frustrations out on them.”
Amos nodded. “I agree. Which means they will have to be removed from London.”
Amos made it sound like the easiest thing in the world to achieve. Indeed, in the case of Crista’s mother, it would be, simply because Amos was a duke’s brother. As soon as Mama realised whom he was, she wouldn’t make the slightest difficulty, assuming his appearance in her life implied she was finally back in favour with society’s upper echelons. Mama was nothing if not single-minded in that regard.
“They cannot stay with us, Uncle. It’s the first place they would be looked for.”
“They could stay here,” Amos said.
“No.” The duke shook his head. “I will not risk exposing our mother and sisters to this business.”
“Ah, quite right.” Amos nodded. “I had not stopped to consider.”
The room fell silent as its occupants all contemplated this unforeseen difficulty.
“You could apprehend Reece with the stones in his possession, and he will probably give up whoever he works for to save his own miserable skin,” Crista said contemptuously.
“He probably doesn’t know more than one other person involved,” Lord Romsey replied. “And I want the person at the very top. The one responsible for all those good soldiers being slaughtered unnecessarily.”
“Yes.” Crista nodded emphatically. “I understand perfectly.”
“And so, the problem remains,” Amos said. “What are we to do with Miss Brooke’s mother and sister?”
“Frankie would probably agree to house them,” Lord Romsey said.
“Lady St. John?” The duke frowned. “If I will not involve the ladies in this house, why would I ask her?”
“She was married to a diplomat,” Lord Romsey replied. “She is used to unusual circumstances, does not ask unnecessary questions. She is discrete and entirely reliable. She only lives ten miles from here, and so Miss Brooke can visit her mother and sister without too much inconvenience if she so wishes.”
Crista did not particularly wish, but refrained from saying so. “It seems an awful lot to ask of a stranger,” she said dubiously.
“Frankie would adore to be of assistance, I am perfectly sure,” Lord Romsey answered. “But it will mean explaining all the particulars to her, Winchester. She cannot be asked to help without knowing what she is becoming involved with.”
The duke mulled this over, rubbing his jaw for a moment or two before nodding, not looking especially happy about the situation. “Very well. We will tell her everything, with your permission, Chesney, and see if she is agreeable.”
“By all means, your grace,” Uncle Charles replied.
Amos rang the bell, a footman answered it and was despatched to find Lady St. John. She appeared a short time later and blinked when she saw so many people assembled in the library.
“Gosh, this looks serious,” she said. “I do hope, your grace, you have not been chastising this poor child for her life-preserving catch.”
The duke fixed Lady St. John with a penetrating look, and Crista was perfectly sure his lips twitched. “Not at all, I do assure you.”
“Then how can I be of service to you?
“Please have a seat, Lady St. John.” The duke himself conducted her to a vacant chair and waited until she had arranged her skirts to her satisfaction before moving away from her. “We have a favour to ask of you. Romsey here thinks you will agree to help, but I don’t want you to feel under any obligation.”
To Crista, the atmosphere felt rife with anticipation as the duke’s and Lady St. John’s gazes clashed. There again, perhaps Crista’s overactive imagination was running away with her. Be that as it may, she was sure there was an attraction between them. Indeed, the duke would have had to be blind and infirm for that not to be the case. Lady St. John was beautiful, elegant, lively and witty. She was also not afraid of the duke and appeared to enjoy verbally sparring with him. Crista allowed herself to wonder.
“Then perhaps you had better tell me what this is all about.”
“Certainly, but first, excuse me, I don’t think you are acquainted with Miss Brooke’s uncle.”
The time had come to reveal what she had been forced to do to yet another person. Crista felt her heart sink. She enjoyed Lady St. John’s society and would regret the loss of her friendship. Not
that they were friends precisely, and their paths were unlikely to cross very much in the future…but still.
“Oh, you poor thing!” Lady St. John leapt from her chair the moment the duke finished his explanation and rushed across to take the seat beside Crista. She reached for her hand and squeezed it. “How infamous! I shall gladly have your mother and sister stay with me for as long as necessary. They will be perfectly safe at Farrington House.”
Crista was overcome by her generosity. “Thank you, Lady St. John, but before you enter into that commitment, I ought to warn you that you may feel differently once you become acquainted with my mother. She can be rather…er, overpowering.”
Lady St. John elevated her chin. “You just worry about your part in all of this and leave your mother and sister to me.”
Crista smiled, thinking perhaps her mother was about to meet her match. “Thank you, that is exceedingly generous of you.”
“When can I expect the pleasure of their company, Clarence?”
“Well now, let me see.” Lord Romsey fell into momentary contemplation. “It is about seventy miles from here to London.”
“It can be covered in one day with a fast conveyance if one doesn’t mind the inconvenience. I shall go and collect them,” Amos said, “and take your new barouche, Zach, and a team of four. If I leave at first light, I can be in our townhouse by nightfall, collect your relations first thing in the morning, Miss Brooke, and be at Lady St. John’s by dusk the day after that.”
“You will need to give my mother advance warning so she can pack,” Crista said, biting her lip to prevent a smile from escaping.
“No,” the duke said. “No warning. No one must know where she has gone, or why.”
“Quite so.” Amos nodded. “I will allow her half an hour to throw a few things in a valise. Then we shall leave.”
“Ah, that will not serve,” Crista said. “My mother is seldom about before noon, and you wish to leave at first light. You will have to call upon her the moment you arrive in town and warn her of your intention if you wish to get back here in one day.”
“Quite so, but that will make it possible for her to tell people where she’s going.”
“I am fairly sure once she knows who you are, Lord Amos, and you demand her secrecy, she will say nothing.”
Crista could see everyone understood what she meant by that remark, saving her from the embarrassment of explaining her mother’s social ambitions.
“Surely if you tell her Miss Brooke is in danger and needs her immediately, that is all it will take to ensure her secrecy,” Lord Romsey said, looking mystified. Crista smiled and did not bother to set him straight.
“Are we agreed then?” the duke asked.
They discussed the arrangements for some additional time, until they ran out of things to say. Amos strode about in front of the fireplace, stating several times he thought Crista’s part in it all was too dangerous, and there had to be another way. Crista and her uncle jointly put him right on that score. Their desire to clear their names, see the villains apprehended, and be able to live with their consciences again was too pressing to concern themselves with the slight dangers. Besides, Lord Romsey, having spent so long chasing the rogues, seemed quite determined to see the matter through, and Crista was in no mood to disoblige him.
“I ought to return to the party before the alarm is raised,” the duke said. “Lady St. John. May I escort you?”
“By all means.” She stood up and placed her hand on the duke’s proffered arm. “It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Miss Brooke, and I shall take very good care of your relations. Do not concern yourself about them.”
“I am very much obliged to you, Lady St. John,” Crista said, standing up to offer her a brief curtsey.
“Until later, Miss Brooke.” The duke inclined his head in her direction. “Gentlemen.”
The duke opened the door, and he and Lady St. John walked through it, the lady leaving a pleasant floral fragrance in her wake. A smile flirted with Crista’s lips when she heard the duke remark to Lady St. John he suspected she was enjoying herself.
“Immensely,” she replied without hesitation. “Life has been so very dull since I returned to England. This is just what I need to alleviate my boredom.”
Crista sent a glance Amos’s way and found he was looking directly at her.
“Thank you for going to fetch my family,” she said softly. “I am sorry you are being put to such inconvenience.”
“It is entirely my pleasure.”
Crista smiled, a gesture she seemed to make constant use of in Amos’s company. “I shall remind you of that after you have spent an entire day in a carriage with my mother.”
“I think Lord Amos will be able to manage your mother,” Uncle Charles said. “And I also think we ought to take ourselves off home, my dear. It has been a long day.”
Crista nodded, aware that any opportunity for a moment alone with Amos would be denied to her. Perhaps that was just as well. She had spent far too much time thinking about him before he kissed her. She knew very well, as things now stood between them, putting him out of her mind for more than five minutes would be impossible. Having distance between them for a few days, while she contrived to make sense of what had passed between them, would not be such a very bad thing.
“I shall call upon you when your family is installed at Farrington House,” Amos said, walking to the door with her and her uncle. Taking her hand, he rather recklessly, she thought, kissed the back of it. “I dare say you would like to visit them and reassure them about your welfare.”
Crista opened her mouth to put him straight. She was perfectly sure her welfare would be of no pressing concern to her mother or sister. Then she saw dark desire reflected in his eyes and closed her mouth again, understanding he had an ulterior motive. The urge to see her mother again had just become a matter of the greatest urgency.
“Thank you, Lord Amos. That would be very kind of you.”
Chapter Fifteen
Amos set off at first light, the barouche drawn by four prime-goers keen to stretch their legs. Zach was there to see him on his way.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take a man with you?”
“I’m perfectly capable of driving myself to London, Zach.”
“I wasn’t suggesting otherwise, but you might enjoy having someone else to take over the ribbons for part of the way.”
“I shall do well enough alone. Just keep a careful eye on Chesney while I am gone.”
Zach quirked a brow. “Chesney?”
“I don’t like this business, Zach.” Amos settled himself on the box seat and took the ribbons from the groom holding the horses’ heads. “These people are ruthless when crossed. Look what they did to Miss Brooke’s father. If they even suspect she plans to cross them, the consequences don’t bear thinking about.”
“Nothing will happen to Miss Brooke,” Zach replied in a calmly reassuring tone that failed to quell Amos’s growing unease. Romsey’s plan seemed straightforward enough, but his main objective was to catch the mastermind. Amos couldn’t shake the disquieting feeling that in his haste to achieve that objective, Romsey had overlooked something which could place Crista in danger. “You have my word. Now go, and we shall see you again in two days’ time.”
The brothers shook hands, and Amos set his team to a brisk trot down the long, winding driveway that led to the main Winchester Road. Traffic was light, and he made good speed with his own horses pulling the conveyance for the first leg of the journey. He paused just long enough at the first staging inn to change his team, tapping his foot impatiently when the grooms worked frustratingly slowly to harness the fresh horses. Finally, back on the road with nothing to do but drive, Amos was at leisure to cogitate, his mind occupied with thoughts of Crista and the quite remarkable impression she had made upon him.
Upon his heart.
Her fiery determination, to restore her uncle’s reputation and her own pride, gave him much to
admire. And even more to think about. He had not behaved well and ought not to have given into temptation and kissed her. He definitely should not have offered to show her a little more of what she would be missing if she really meant never to marry. It had been a reckless and foolhardy commitment to enter into−one it would take an almighty effort on his part to control. The sparkle had left her eye when he refused her, and she looked so endearingly unsure of herself it had been impossible to refuse her altogether. Her request was not something a man expected to hear spilling from an innocent lady’s lips. Crista would probably laugh and say she was no lady. In the recognised sense perhaps she was not, but she had still made a deep impression upon Amos, without appearing to try.
A very deep, lasting impression.
Amos curled his upper lip as he slowed to pass through a toll gate on the outskirts of London. In the cold light of day, he knew it would be foolish to keep his word but was surprised by the strength of his determination to do so. It would be sheer folly. Not because he was afraid Crista would be unable to control her passions, but because he might well not be able to harness his own.
By the time he drove into London that evening, he still had not sorted his thoughts or intentions regarding Crista Brooke into any sort coherent order. There was only one thing he knew with certainty. Regardless of his tangled feelings for the minx, his determination to be of service to her had not wavered.
Ducal Encounters 01 - At the Duke's Discretion Page 16