Kingsdale's remark took Clayton off guard.
"Do we understand each other?" Clayton asked in a dangerously low voice.
Kingsdale stared at his fingernails, rubbing his thumb against his third finger. "When we were children, I never saw anything in the freckled-face redhead either."
The man looked up, his eyes glittering with determination. "But I have come to see that the lady has more brains than Wellington. I need a wife. I want a wife. The lady has qualities I admire."
"You mean she enjoys studying Egyptian culture?"
Kingsdale smiled. "You know me well, my friend."
"I don't think the lady's interested."
The man's obsession with Egypt had made the rounds at White's. Everyone had something they held dear to their heart. But now it was Kingsdale's strange obsession with Miss Garland that truly troubled Clayton.
"Did I tell you she fell in love with me a few years ago?" Kingsdale replied proudly.
It wasn't true. The man was lying.
Kingsdale pursed his lips in triumph. "Yes, well, it would be a surprise to you; wouldn't it? Anyway, I did a stupid thing. I left her. Had some business on the Continent. By the time' I returned, she refused to see me. Bad timing, I suppose."
Clayton barely checked himself from taking the man apart. "It seems you have had bad timing with all the ladies of your acquaintance."
Kingsdale laughed again. "None of them sparked my interest. The devil of it is, Clay, there is something about Miss Briana Garland that stirs my blood. I want her, and it's time I wed."
Clayton's lips thinned. "Well, she doesn't want you."
"You were always the gentleman. But I will tell you something, being a gentleman does not always win the ladies. One has to be a bit forceful, if you get my meaning."
Clayton took a step toward the man. "By Jove, if you force—"
"Clayton!"
The two men turned to see Lady Emily coming toward them.
Kingsdale lowered his voice. "Don't interfere, Clay. You were like a brother to me growing up. I haven't forgotten that."
Clayton's jaw tightened. "A brother? Yes, I found that out soon enough when you stole Maria from under my very nose. Oh, I admit she was not the type one would marry, only a simple girl from the country, but innocent all the same. However, when you were done with her, the girl was sent to live in America with her long lost aunt. Yes, I know your ways, and I don't like them."
Kingsdale let out a sardonic laugh. "All is fair in love and war, eh? Like that time at Vauxhall Gardens?"
The question didn't deserve an answer. Clayton turned to his sister. For an unguarded moment, he saw the cool glance Emily sent the man. Had Kingsdale approached his sister without his knowing? The thought infuriated him. Of course the man would not dare take a step in that direction now, not with Stonebridge as her husband. But Miss Briana Garland was another matter.
Clayton thought of the lady at Vauxhall. She had been lucky he had come along when he did. What if it had been Miss Garland?
The thought didn't sit well with him. Not at all.
Chapter Ten
"Briana, child, did you hear a word I said?"
Briana was staring out the window of the carriage as it rolled over the cobblestone streets toward the outskirts of London. The steady clip-clop of hooves had distracted her from Agatha's words, but it did nothing to divert her mind from the events of the previous evening with Lord Clayton and Lord Kingsdale.
"I'm sorry, Agatha." She gathered the shawl about her shoulders and turned toward her godmother. "I was woolgathering."
The older lady lifted a keen brow. "Does it perchance have something to do with Lord Kingsdale and Lord Clayton? Or why I did not receive my punch last night?"
Briana was helpless to stop the blush from working its way across her cheeks. How much did Agatha know?
"Never knew Kingsdale well," the lady went on. "Heard he had an eye for Egyptian art. Handsome gentleman. Well educated. His father died five years ago." The parasol thumped. "Never liked the old badger. Emily's mother never liked him either. La, if it is a choice between those two gentlemen, my dear, I would definitely choose Lord Clayton."
Briana peered out the window and picked up the small bouquet of daisies resting on her seat. "I am not choosing anyone. I already told you my plans."
Agatha frowned as the carriage came to a sudden halt in front of a small church. "Your sister would not want you to devote your entire life to a cause that keeps you from having a family. I made that choice and have regretted it ever since."
Briana's throat constricted at the sight of the small cemetery in the distance. "Today was Clarice's birthday. She would have been nineteen. I cannot go back and save her from the past, but I can help other women in the same predicament."
Her grip tightened on the flowers. "Society throws these women aside like crumbs. It isn't fair, Agatha. Women have no rights. It just isn't fair."
The older lady gave Briana's knee a motherly pat. "Life isn't fair, child. But you must not let the choices of some men ruin your entire life. Your father was wrong, and I believe he died with the burden of your sister's death weighing heavily on his heart."
Briana looked away, tears clogging her throat. "Wh-what about the man who put Clarice in that predicament in the first place? What about him?"
Agatha sighed. "I wish I knew, child. I would have the man clapped in irons for what he did to your sister. But that is neither here nor there. Go to her grave and say your prayers. Tomorrow we leave for Grimstoke Hall."
Briana took hold of the door, wishing Agatha would walk to Clarice's grave with her. But the emotional toll on her godmother was too much.
Briana leaned over and kissed the elderly lady on the cheek. "I love you."
Agatha sniffed, gently batting her away. "Go on with you now. Two sobbing females might scare James into driving away without us. I don't like to hurry you, child, but it looks like a storm is brewing in the west."
Briana glanced at the angry clouds closing in on them and gave her godmother a weak smile, then made her way toward the graveyard. She stopped in front of a small flat stone etched with Clarice's name. About a hundred feet away stood the church, an ancient-looking building of red stone, decorated with stained glass windows depicting Christ's birth.
Kneeling, Briana placed the flowers on the gravestone. Tears stung her eyes as she remembered her sister's sweet face.
"I'm sorry, Clarice. I'm sorry you could not be here on your birthday."
She raised her gloved hands and brushed back the tears trickling down her cheeks. Oh, Clarice, I miss you so. A crisp wind blew through the trees, and she let out a shuddering sigh.
"I'll make things right, though. There are four women staying in the vicar's old cottage not far from here. I intend to find them a better home soon. I have positions set up for three of them after they give birth. I hope to give them a chance for a better life, a better life than they would have had on their own."
A chance you were never given.
The clatter of wheels and jangle of reins brought her head around. Dust billowed in the air. A shiny black carriage was stopping in front of the church. A young woman dressed in a simple ivory gown descended, followed by an older couple. Another coach appeared and halted behind the first.
A wedding.
Briana's lips trembled as she bent toward the gravestone, brushing away the dirt lodged in the crevices of her sister's name. "It should have been you, Clarice. I hope the bride will be happy. I hope you're happy where you are now."
She let out a shaky breath as she rose. "You're probably laughing at me now, knowing my plans for Grimstoke's party."
Thunder boomed above her, and Briana gathered her shawl tighter about her shoulders. "Yes, I know, it's something you would insist on being part of. You were always so impulsive. And you probably cannot believe Whitehall has asked me to investigate the silly rumor. But being Violet's friend certainly helps."
Fat raindrops ploppe
d against her face, quickly increasing in intensity. She shuddered, raising her gaze to the black clouds hovering over the church.
"Agatha is livid, as you can well imagine."
A streak of lightning pierced the sky and she frowned as the daisies began to droop beneath the driving rain. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. I'm so very sorry."
"Briana!" Agatha called worriedly.
Briana gave a short wave to the older lady as she took one last glance at her sister's grave. "I miss you, Clarice."
Wrapping her shawl over her head, Briana hurried toward the carriage and almost slipped as the footman assisted her inside.
Agatha clucked her tongue as the door snapped shut. "Should have used my parasol."
Briana looked up, her green eyes twinkling with mischief as the rain trickled down her face, mingling with her tears. "I would never do such a thing. What would you do without it?"
Her godmother managed a smile as the carriage jerked forward. "Don't play me the fool, young lady," she said, wiping her eyes. "I have not forgotten about Lord Grimstoke's. Depend upon it, you will let me do the snooping."
Briana wasn't going to agree to that. Whitehall had asked her to go, not just Agatha. "I know his daughter, Violet. My cover is perfect. Besides, I don't believe I am in any danger. We are, after all, only investigating a rumor."
"Oh, there is always a danger, child." Agatha frowned, her grip on the parasol tightening.
Not a good sign, Briana thought. "Is there something I should know?"
Steel gray eyes locked on Briana's face. "We were correct. Whitehall has very good reason to believe Lord Grimstoke holds a grudge against the Regent. It seems the man lost a great deal in some card game with Prinny."
Briana's eyes widened. "And so now we have motivation. Do you truly think there is a possibility his lordship may be passing on information about the Regent?"
"It is only speculation. A slender thread at best. Whitehall has the most powerful agents investigating more significant leads. Ours is only one of them."
"But I cannot believe Lord Grimstoke would do such a thing."
Agatha peered out the window. Rain beat against the carriage, blurring the countryside. "Revenge is quite a motivation. Good friends can make the best of enemies. Never forget that. Besides, everyone in the ton knows Lord Grimstoke is a fickle creature. Seems solid as a rock one moment, then caves in to drink and vices that could spin your head the very next."
Vices that could spin her head? Briana waited anxiously, eager to expand her education.
Agatha gave her a stern gaze. "No, I am not telling you anything about that! But you must see that this entire mission puts you in way too much danger. As I mentioned, we have other agents working other places where the threat is thought to be much greater, but—"
"No buts, Agatha. This is perfect. Don't you see? As a friend to Violet, I can fade into the crowd like I usually do. Snooping will come naturally."
"Fade?" Agatha looked appalled. "My dear girl, if you were fading at last night's ball, then I am going blind indeed."
Briana fidgeted with her shawl. "An isolated incident, to be sure. Lord Kingsdale and Lord Clayton were only playing against each other. I am nothing to them at all."
Agatha let out an annoyed sigh. "If you did not notice Lord Clayton's eyes following you the entire night, I daresay you were the one who was blind."
Briana studied the floor of the carriage. All her life she had wanted Lord Clayton to notice her, and now that he had, she wanted nothing to do with him. A marriage of convenience? It was insufferable. "I saw his attention on two other ladies."
"Aha! So you noticed, did you?"
Briana's head snapped up. "And what does that mean?"
"It means you have a fondness for the gentleman."
"I do not."
"Well, he won't be your problem at Grimstoke's anyway. Didn't see him on the list of guests."
"The man's a nuisance."
Agatha eyed her thoughtfully. "Perhaps you should take a look at the list." The lady pulled a paper from her reticule and handed it to Briana.
Briana's gaze traveled over the paper and her heart stopped. She looked up at Agatha.
Agatha's eyelids fell as she let out an aggravated sigh. "La, there was nothing I could do about that. Seems Lord Kingsdale was invited at the last minute. Always happens, you know. People are added and dropped at a moment's notice. Never really know until one gets there."
Briana handed back the paper. "I don't like him."
Agatha sighed. "Knew that after the ball. Should have told me before I gave you permission to take a turn about the room with the man and fetch me some punch—that I never received, by the way."
Briana dropped her head back against the leather seat. "Oh, it's such a mess. A few years ago he asked me to marry him. He wasn't happy when I turned him down, but it seems he wants to try his hand again. I have heard stories of his riotous behavior in Town. I don't know what's true. But I don't like him."
"Not all men are like Kingsdale, my dear."
"No, but it seems the men I know are concerned only about their own welfare. My papa was. The man who got Clarice with child was. Alistair was. Even Lord Clayton—"
She stopped herself before divulging to her godmother what had transpired in the garden during the ball.
"Oh? And what about Lord Clayton?"
"Nothing."
Nothing at all, except he broke my heart. He’s like the rest of them. He doesn’t care a whit about me or my feelings.
"We are to journey to Grimstoke's tomorrow, then." Agatha pulled out another, larger piece of paper that was folded in her reticule. "Here is a rough map of the house."
"I was there once," Briana said, "but it was years ago."
"If our thread of information is true and Grimstoke Hall is the location, Whitehall's mysterious source has identified the drop-off point as the library, as I told you already."
Briana looked up at her godmother. "A secret hiding place? It sounds, well, rather formulated, does it not? Could we be decoys?"
"Possibly. Sometimes agents are set up as decoys, but I cannot tell you the truth, because I honestly don't know. I was delivered this information only days ago."
"But a drop-off point given by some unknown source sounds so absurd."
Agatha laid the house plans on the seat opposite her. "Absurd sounding, yes. But many absurd things have led to dangerous consequences. Look at Napoleon. Who would have thought the little Corsican could conquer as much as he did?"
Briana knew Agatha was right. Absurd as it sounded, they had to take this seriously. Dropping her gaze to the map, she studied the house. "A drop-off point could be in any of the books, for all we know. There must be a thousand of them."
"Yes, a daunting task." Agatha's eyes began to gleam. "However, we do have other clues. There is, as you know, the specific area of Grimstoke's desk."
Briana laughed. "Can it be so easy?"
"If there are any missives at all, Headquarters believes they will be in that very area."
"I take it the source conveyed this information?" Briana replied sarcastically. "How very convenient and utterly silly."
"Indeed," Agatha said. "Nevertheless, it is the information we have been given. And having you fade into the walls will be impossible with Kingsdale there."
Briana frowned. "I bid him farewell last night."
Agatha folded the papers and stuffed them back into her reticule. "You are young. You will eventually find that men do not take rejection well. They sulk and simmer, planning their next move. But never fear, I will be with you as your chaperone."
The lady raised her parasol and whacked it against the seat. "La, my dear! If the brute does not leave you alone, I will bop him over the head with this!"
Briana's lips quivered with mirth. "It will take a few good whacks. I have heard he has a very hard head."
Agatha smiled. "You have yet to see me in true form. Ask Lord Stonebridge."
&
nbsp; Chapter Eleven
The lady whacked me with that deuced parasol!" Clayton threw his sister a dazed glare. "I can only say I am glad the old bat is out of the house right now."
Emily was pouring tea and looked up, calmly setting the teapot onto its tray. "Why in the world would Agatha do that?"
Clayton shrugged. "Don't know. It happened when I walked past her in the ballroom the other night. It was so swift, no one saw it. Afterward, she acted as if she were the sweetest woman on earth. And d—dash it all, Em, she knew exactly where to hit me." Frowning, he sat back in his chair.
Clayton had come here this morning in hopes of catching Miss Garland alone. He needed to warn her about Kingsdale. But upon his arrival he discovered the lady and her godmother had already left for the country. Staying with friends, Emily had said.
Clayton had wanted to smile. It would be hard for Kingsdale to follow them there. Still, he would have to warn Miss Garland sooner or later about the man. But not for a while. Today he was leaving for Grimstoke Hall, with this being his last stop before he rode out of London.
"Oh, come now, Clay. Agatha does not use that parasol without cause."
"I cannot agree with you, dearest."
Clayton looked up to see Lord Stonebridge standing by the door. The earl's eyes were dancing with mirth.
"Did you have any idea your aunt almost killed me the other day?" Clayton asked with a scowl.
Jared laughed as he strolled into the room to kiss his wife on the cheek. He angled his head toward Clayton. "You must have come too close to one of her puppies."
Emily frowned. "Agatha has no puppies, Jared. There is only Nigel here."
The dog gave a loud bark.
Clayton gave Jared a cool stare. Emily watched the exchange of male glances and jumped from her seat.
"Oh, you didn't, Clay!"
Clayton stood, pulling his waistcoat tight. "What?"
Jared smiled and took a step back, his hands in the air. "I never said a word."
Clayton growled. "Depend upon it. You said plenty."
Emily clutched her teacup. "If you did what I think you did, I will be furious."
The Convenient Bride (The Clearbrooks) Page 11