Mr. Jones,
You have angered a great many people with your editorials. I am receiving several threats in regards to your articles. Keep up the good work, but have a care.
Sincerely,
John Walton, Jr. Esquire
“People are reading my articles!” she excitedly announced to the empty room. “But I am making people angry,” she tapped the letter against her lower lip. She needed to write more. Perhaps about soldiers who returned. What did they do with their lives, especially if they were severely wounded? The paper should almost be through her stack of articles if they have been printing one per day. Despite the danger, a sense of giddiness swept through her. People were reading her articles, and it was causing a frenzy. She only hoped that her book would receive the same fanfare.
Tomorrow she would get out and see if there were any meetings being held. Perhaps she would go by and check on Abigail and Jemma, as well. She would have to get by Chang. Her father would do nothing to hinder her, but poor Chang worried incessantly over her. She would have to work hard to get past him. In the meantime, she went into the study and spread out the papers located in her portfolio.
She read the last few pages, reacquainting herself with the characters. She had long since come to terms with the hero’s striking resemblance to Mack, tired of fighting against the inevitable outcome. She continued the scene, losing herself in the fictional world she had created.
***
“We have a problem.”
Those were words one never wanted to hear come out of the mouth of Lord Liverpool. If that man thought there was a problem, there was likely no way to fix it. He braced himself for whatever the man might say. Had someone else decided to declare war on England? Was Mack not doing his job as others expected? There was only one way to find out.
“Oh, my lord? And what would that be?” he asked, attempting his best at sounding nonchalant.
“Not what, but who. C. E. Jones. He’s an editorialist for The Times.”
“I’ve read some of his pieces.”
“Brilliant man. Too bloody brilliant if you ask me. Causing quite the stir among the ton.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. If he isn’t stirring them to support causes, he is directly poking them with a stick. And this latest piece on the government’s lack of support for the widows and orphans of dead soldiers. Why, it’s preposterous,” Liverpool argued.
“Is it, my lord?” Mack countered, knowing the author had indeed written a most accurate article about the government.
“Of course, it is. Don’t tell me the fool has you believing what he writes as well.”
Mack remained silent this time.
“Very well. We both know there are problems, but we have more important things on our hands than seeing to the welfare of women and children.”
“And ex-soldiers.”
“Remember, Director McKenzie,” Liverpool continued as if he did not hear those last two words, “we are in the midst of not one, but two bloody wars now.”
“Trust me, my lord, when I say I have not, nor could ever hope, to forget.”
“Good. I want you to find out who this C. E. Jones is, and get them to stop writing these pieces. We need people supporting the government, not ridiculing it.”
“I understand. Have you not tried to find out who this person is? Have you spoken to the owner of the paper?”
“After we had the man’s father imprisoned, the son will not speak to us. No, you are going to have to go about this another way.”
“I’ll get an agent right on it.”
“No. I want you to deal with this yourself.”
“May I ask one thing?”
“Certainly.”
“Why me?”
“The fewer people who know we are trying to stop things from being printed, the better. Besides, I am counting on you using your Scottish temper to take care of the situation.”
“Ach, I see. Well, I guess I had best get to the investigation, haven’t I?”
“Now, there’s no need to be spiteful, Mack.”
“I’ll let you know when my ‘Scottish temper’ has seen to the matter, my lord.” Mack stood and bowed before leaving the Prime Minister’s office. Once outside he reflected on the last volley of words between him and Liverpool. Most likely not the wisest thing he had ever done, but he had felt it necessary. Some days he felt like a hired thug for the government, merely expected to follow through with orders they didn’t want to sully their own hands doing.
Not for the first time, he found himself wishing the wars were over, and his ties with the government severed. It also had him wondering, again, not for the first time, what would he do once the wars ceased. He wasn’t welcome in Scotland. He didn’t always fit in here. They would not allow him be the Director for the War Office forever. What could he do? He had toyed with the idea of running for an office and perhaps one day even prime minister, but did he like politics enough to face it every day for the rest of his life? He hailed a hack and gave the driver directions, without thinking about what he said. Mack climbed in and reclined against the squabs as the carriage jolted to a start then smoothed out. Mack found himself so lost in thought, he did not realize that the carriage had come to a halt.
“Sir, we’re here,” the jarvey called down from his seat.
“Thank you,” Mack said. He looked out the window, slightly shocked to see his brother’s house. Had he really given the driver directions to come here? The way he had come to rely on Gabe was unsettling. Not that he expected the man to do things for him, but he found it was nice to have him to discuss matters with. He stepped out of the hired carriage and turned to look at the house. He had just decided to climb back in when he heard the tell-tale clopping of horse’s hooves.
“Mack,” Gabe called. “I was just coming to see you, you’ve saved me the trip.”
“Ah, well, I’m glad for that.” He stepped back down and paid the driver.
“What’s brought you here?”
“Nothing. What can I do for you?”
Gabe looked at him, disbelievingly, as he dismounted. The men walked back to the mews where Gabe had just come from and a groom ran out to take the horse. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’d rather not talk about it. What did you need to see me about?”
“Mikala has it in her mind that she wants to give a party. Nothing big like a ball, but she wants to have dancing and for there to be dancing she needs to have men and women.”
They entered the house and Gabe led Mack to his study where he shut the door so they could speak privately. “I will attend for Mikala’s sake.”
“Excellent, I will let her know.”
“When is it?”
“Next week some time.”
“I’ll be ready.” The men stared at each other awkwardly.
“I can tell that something is on your mind,” Gabe persisted. “You might as well tell me what it is.”
“I feel like a child being chastised by his parent.”
“Fine. I’ll stop asking. Just remember, it was you that showed up at my front door,” Gabe countered, irritation tinging his voice.
“You want to know what’s wrong? Here’s what’s wrong. What happens when I have served my purpose for the government?”
“What do you mean? You’re a brilliant strategist. And the way you have created the latticework of agents is amazing. We have men and women installed all over the world watching out on England’s behalf. You know too much about everything. What ever has given you the idea they would want to remove you from the position?”
“Dammit, when you say all that, you make me feel like a whimpering fool.”
“Mack, the government would be hard-pressed to run without you. Now, out with it.”
“It’s damn silly. Liverpool asked me personally, rather than one of my agents, to look into something.”
“Liverpool trusts you implicitly. Even you know that there can be agents tha
t are lured to the other side by different things. This must be something very important.”
“It could be.” Mack stood and paced the room. “Liverpool threw my Scottish ancestry in my face.”
“Ah. We both know he is not the most tactful of men.”
“Ach, now I feel like a bloody fool. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Could it be a certain young lady that has entered your life?”
“You’re out of your bloody mind,” Mack exclaimed, his brogue becoming thick.
“Hmmm,” Gabe mused.
“Shut your bloody mouth.”
“Sit, I have some news to impart from grandmother. She wanted me to wait until she had left so that you could not argue with her.”
“What is it?”
“She asked me to take half of the moneys not entailed and invest it for you. Along with that, is both a residence here in London and a country residence between Reading and Oxford.”
“You told her she was bloody crazy, didn’t you? Well?” he prodded when his brother remained silent.
“No, Mack, I didn’t. You have been denied so much, I thought this was the least we could do for you. I know the government pays you a decent salary, but I also know that you could have more and should. You could be living in a more comfortable house. A bigger house in a better part of London.”
“I like my house, and I like where it is.”
“What if one day you find a woman to marry? Will she be comfortable living there? And what of children?”
“I’m not getting married and having a family. Do you understand? I like my bachelor status and plan on keeping it. So you can take that filthy money and the houses and burn them for all I care.” He stood and left the room in a fury.
***
Cassie finally pulled herself away from her writing and spent an hour arguing with Chang before he reluctantly agreed to her leaving the house.
“I go with you.”
“I do not need anyone to accompany me, Chang.”
“I go, or you no go,” he argued.
“All right, Chang. I give up. You can come with me.”
“Good,” he nodded.
When she returned from readying herself she saw him sitting in front of the door, cross-legged on the floor.
“What are you doing down there?” Cassie demanded.
“Missy Cassie, you very sneaky. I not let you get past me,” he said, pushing himself up. “Ready?”
“I’m ready,” she said, and waited for him to open the door for her and let her pass. The two walked to the corner where Alfred sold papers. Cassie bought one and winced just a bit as she gave him money for it.
“Miss Cassie, should you be out? Someone shot you.”
“That what I tell her,” Chang said.
“You two worry too much. The person was a bad shot. It was more than likely meant for Director McKenzie,” she shrugged as she spoke. “Now, I need to look over this.” She waved the paper in the air with her good hand. She stood against the wall of a building and did the best she could to study the newspaper. The only thing of notable interest was a lecture this evening on archeology at the British Museum.
She huffed in frustration. She knew she could not expect a rally to be held every day. That is why she wrote editorial pieces rather than reported information. Cassie had difficulty remaining unbiased when she wrote. It took a special person to report just the facts and not try to sway people with their opinion. She also found herself impatient for news to happen.
“What we do now, Missy Cassie?” Chang asked, a hopeful glimmer in his eye.
“We are not going home, Chang.”
The little man huffed.
“We are going to take a hack and ride through town. If that brings nothing, then I want to go and check on Abby and Jemma.”
“Who?”
“They are two very dear people I know. Now, let’s go,” she said. She walked off, allowing Chang the decision to follow if he wanted to. Cassie smiled when she heard the shuffling of his feet behind her. She waved down a hack and gave the driver instructions to meander about certain areas of Town. Cassie peered anxiously out the window, looking for any sign of a demonstration, but there were none. Disgruntled, she knocked on the roof of the conveyance. She gave the driver directions to the Hawkescliffe townhouse and reclined against the squabs.
“You hurt, Missy Cassie?”
She realized she had been absently rubbing the wound on her arm. “No, Chang. It has just become habit.”
“You should be home, resting.”
“I’m not going to argue with you, Chang.”
“Hmph,” he sat across from her, arms crossed and a frown on his face.
It took some time traveling amongst the drays and carriages that were out attending to business, but finally they arrived at the Hawkescliffe home. Chang looked out the window, a look of awe on his face. “Missy Cassie know someone that live here?”
“Yes, Chang, and they are very nice people. Now, wait here. I promise not to be too long.” She stepped out of the hack and left directions for the driver to stay. The man nodded his agreement and pulled the brim of his hat low over his face, settling in for a quick nap. Cassie walked up to the door and knocked on it.
The now familiar butler opened the door, a look of questioning on his face. “How can I help you?” he asked. He attempted to sound much more important than what he was, in Cassie’s humble opinion.
“Miss Cassie Graham to see Lady Thompson.”
“Wait here, please.” The man shut the door on Cassie then returned a few short minutes later. “Follow me.” He led her into the parlor where she had visited with Lady Thompson earlier. “Her Grace will be with you shortly.”
“Oh, but I…” it was too late. The man had already left the room. What was it about him that made Cassie want to stomp her feet in exasperation? He acted so pious.
The Duchess of Hawkescliffe entered Cassie’s line of vision. “He’s still a little formal for our household, but he has impeccable references. It is so good to see you again, Miss Graham. What brings you by?”
“Cassie, please, Your Grace.”
“And you must remember to call me Mikala.”
“I came by to see Lady Thompson.”
“Oh, I am sorry. She and my husband’s grandmother left yesterday.”
“I am sorry I did not get to wish them well. I only wanted to check on her and Jemma. I will be leaving now.”
“Wait a moment. We are having a party next week. A small one. I would love for you to come.”
“Oh, I would love to, but you see, I have nothing formal to wear.”
“That is easily fixed,” the duchess waved a hand in dismissal.
“No, Your Grace. I will not be a charity that you seek to donate to.”
“Cassie, I was thinking no such thing. We are of the same build, you could borrow one of my dresses.”
“Your Grace, pardon me for saying so, but you are a fraud. We do not resemble each other physically at all. You are as thin as a reed and I am well…”
“Curvaceous,” Mikala supplied.
“Exactly.”
“You have found me out, Cassie. I wanted to invite you to introduce you to some of my closest friends. There will also be some eligible men present.”
“I am not looking for a husband.”
“I understand. You can bring your father as well.”
Cassie hesitated. She had only been to one small dinner party, and found herself desperately wanting to attend this party. She thought herself the worst kind of person, writing articles that condemned people for spending their money throwing lavish parties, and yet wanting to attend them herself.
“At least go to the seamstress with me,” Mikala coaxed. “We will look at fashion plates and fabrics and see if anything should catch your eye. And if it does,” the duchess held up her hand stopping Cassie from speaking, “we will work something out. How is that?”
“I suppose that is accep
table,” Cassie commented.
“Good. Now that that’s settled, I am going to get my shawl and order the coach be brought round.”
“Oh, but I have a hack out front.”
“We’ll send it on its way.”
“But Chang is waiting for me.”
“Chang?” the duchess asked.
All of a sudden a door flew open down the hall and an irritated looking Director McKenzie came stomping down the hall. “What are you doing here?” he growled at Cassie.
“Pardon?”
“Shouldn’t you be home resting? Or have you forgotten you’ve been shot?”
“Shot?” two voices exclaimed at the same time.
“It’s nothing,” Cassie said, touching the spot gingerly. Damn him, she fumed silently.
“Nothing? McGregor had to be called, and the bullet had to be dug out of her arm.”
“Excuse me,” Mikala said, turning a putrid shade of green. She quickly disappeared down the hall and around a corner.
“Thanks ever so much,” Gabe said, cuffing Mack on the upper arm. He turned and followed his wife.
“What’s wrong?” Cassie asked Mack.
“Mikala is expecting again, and she’s been sick.”
“Oh.”
“Now, what are you doing here?”
“I don’t really see how it is any of your business,” she regally replied.
“None of my business? You are encroaching on my family. I would say that makes it my business.”
“Encroaching? I’ll have you know I came to see Lady Thompson, who is no longer here. I was then cornered by Lady Hawkescliffe to attend her party next week.”
“Which you politely declined.”
“Do you not want me attending?”
“I don’t think you would fit in.”
“You have quite the nerve. As a matter of fact, I had refused, but I think I will attend and see how the other side lives.”
“What are you going to wear? That?” he asked, indicating the nondescript dress she always wore.
“I am taking her shopping,” Mikala interjected. “And I will appreciate it if you will stop harassing my friends. You may be Gabe’s brother, but you are no relation to me, and you do not want to make an enemy of me.”
Seducing the Ruthless Rogue Page 14