by Aileen Fish
“You’re needed here. So is Ian, especially now that Napoleon’s spies have infiltrated the highest echelons of English society. You need to be attending the London balls and parties, keeping your eye on anyone who seems to be acting suspiciously.” Gabriel eased forward in his chair and motioned for the pair to come closer. “Napoleon’s spies must believe that Prinny’s chosen John Randall and Edward Gaffney for this secret assignment. While they watch John and Edward,” he said, glancing at Graelem, “Ian and I will contrive some ruse to explain my sudden absence. Wolcott’s preparing those fake orders concerning John and Edward as we speak. I’m to hand over this supposedly secret information to those spies at Lord Hastings’ ball tomorrow night. If they believe I’m on Napoleon’s side, they’ll stop watching me closely.”
“I have a hunting lodge not far from the Scottish border,” Ian said. “A few dropped hints and everyone will believe we two bachelors—desperate to escape feminine shackles—intend to ride off shortly on a hunting excursion.”
Graelem ran a hand across the back of his neck. “It might work if news of that hunting trip spreads before Napoleon’s escape is made public.”
“I’ll take care of the problem this evening,” Ian said. “All I need to do is mention our plans to Lady Phoebe Withnall and she’ll spread the word throughout the elegant salons of London within a matter of minutes.”
Graelem grunted. “Incorrigible gossips serve a useful purpose, I suppose.”
Ian nodded and then turned to Gabriel. “The day before your scheduled sailing, you and I will ride off together on the north road toward Scotland. Once we’re certain no one is following us, we’ll break away at the first opportunity and ride eastward toward the sea.”
“Eastward to your doom,” Graelem muttered, frowning at Gabriel. “There must be a better way to slow Napoleon’s progress than to send you back into that deathtrap. What can you do on your own against Napoleon’s army?”
“I don’t know, but Wellington needs time and that’s what I intend to give him. My job will be done once the English army is properly supplied and transported to the Continent.”
Ian appeared equally displeased. “I’ll join you as soon as Prinny permits me. He’ll grant me that permission as soon as the House of Lords votes to approve a new campaign against Napoleon. I’ll speak to Prinny tomorrow, just to be certain I’ll have his permission before you set sail.”
“Count me in,” Graelem added.
Gabriel scowled at him. “I don’t need you. At least Ian speaks French, and Edward and John know all about munitions. They’ll go about London supposedly gathering their supplies and weapons, doing what they must to put the French off my scent for as long as possible. Even if you were useful to have along,” he said, pausing briefly to emphasize his next words, “I’ll not turn Laurel into a grieving widow. Nor will I allow your child to grow up without his father.”
This was the pact they had made at the start of the war—no attachments, no wives or sweethearts left behind to grieve, no children to shed tears over the loss of a father. Now that Graelem had married and Laurel was with child, sending him off on this dangerous mission was out of the question.
“Right, that’s settled.” Ian slapped his hands against his thighs. “If I do say so myself, I like this idea of a hunt. It also gives us the excuse to be seen with John and Edward should the need arise. Everyone knows they’re avid sportsmen. In fact, we can meet them tonight at White’s, share a few drinks, let word spread of our bachelor outing, then return to my townhouse for more detailed planning.”
Gabriel nodded. He’d also have to put his affairs in order before he left. “Graelem, I—”
“I know,” his cousin said with a grumble, rubbing his hand roughly across the nape of his neck. “You can count on me to manage your estates while you’re away. Write a note to your parents. I’ll hold on to it and turn it over to them if the need arises. It had better not. I’ll expect you to get your sorry arse safely back home as soon as possible.”
Gabriel nodded. “I’ll do my best.” He rose to signal the end of the conversation. “Well, time to return to my wastrel ways.”
Graelem rose with him and gave him a hearty pat on the back. “Be careful. One slip and the wretched mission fails.”
Just as he’d slipped with Daisy? How much did the girl really know? Probably nothing. Still, he had to be careful around her. He’d spent much of the war years being thought of as a coward, a drunk, and a cheat by friends and family. He needed Daisy to believe it as well.
He closed his eyes, hoping to expunge her from his mind.
He couldn’t.
Gabriel took another moment to compose himself before slipping back to the party. When he did, Lord Malinor instantly cornered him, shoving a glass of champagne into his hand. “Been looking all over for you, Dayne. Where the devil did you run off to?”
“Talking to my cousin in your library,” he replied, stepping back to avoid his host’s breath, which reeked of stale spirits. With his red, bulbous nose, the man reminded Gabriel of a modern-day Bacchus, or what he imagined Bacchus might have looked like when debauched and in his cups. “Hope you don’t mind. He’s about to become a father, you know.”
Lord Malinor burst into a chuckle, and then winked at him. “I hear your cousin’s wife has been giving him the devil of a time. Did he want advice on how to handle her? Beautiful gels, those Farthingales, but high spirited. They require a delicate touch.”
Gabriel assumed a bored manner, though the little hairs at the back of his neck were standing on end. What did Malinor want with the Farthingale girls? “Don’t all women?”
“But Lady Laurel’s got a temper. Don’t know that any man can handle her. Now, the young one over there’s a tempting morsel, an attractive bit of goods. My son’s taken a fancy to her.” He pointed to Daisy. “Gad, what a body on the gel!”
Gabriel’s fingers tightened around the glass he held in his hand. “Yes, she has an interesting look about her, but she’s a little slip of a thing. Easily overlooked in the crowd.”
“Oh, one would have to be as dead as mutton to overlook that vision,” Lord Malinor said, licking his lips as he stared at her. She stood a short distance away, beside her mother and surrounded by several admirers, including Malinor’s son, Auguste. “What I wouldn’t give to have that young flesh tingle beneath my fingers.”
Gabriel excused himself before he gave in to the urge to lift the worthless man by his lapels and shake him till his wig fell off and yellow teeth popped out. “Pardon me, Lord Malinor. I believe my grandmother is summoning me.”
Lord Malinor held him back as he started to move away. “About the gel, any interest in her?”
“I’m not in the habit of discussing such matters.”
“Don’t bite my head off, Dayne. It’s not as if you intend to marry her. You’ve made no secret of your loathing for the institution, but she’s a beauty and if you don’t want her there are others who will. Just making sure you haven’t changed your mind, but I see by your scowl that you haven’t. Leaves the field clear for the other poor sods. Lucky for them you’re not interested. They’d be hard pressed to compete.”
Lord Malinor left him to join his son and the circle of men now formed around Daisy. Auguste Malinor, more formally known as Viscount de Veres, had inherited his mother’s good looks and his father’s scheming nature—a bad combination, to Gabriel’s way of thinking. When the elder Lord Malinor passed on, Auguste would inherit the vast Brayfell holdings and assume the title his father now held, Earl of Brayfell.
He watched Daisy chat and smile and thoroughly charm Auguste and the throng of popinjays dancing attendance around her. She’ll be married before the year is out, he realized, suddenly feeling a tremendous sense of loss. Perhaps she’d marry before he returned from France.
He stared at her, marveling at the stark contrast between them. She was carefree and unburdened, eager to rush headlong into the future. He had no future, or none that he dar
ed to think about.
Chapter 11
A lady must never insert herself in the business or political affairs of a rake.
“Wait for me, Lily. I’m coming with you,” Daisy called the following afternoon, rushing downstairs to catch up with her sister as she prepared to walk out the door. The day was overcast, uncommonly cold, and Lily was already bundled in a fetching forest green pelisse to match the green of her merino wool gown. “Just give me a moment to find my gloves.”
Lily sighed. “Very well, but hurry up. I don’t wish to be late.”
Daisy hastily donned the dark blue wrap that matched her gown, grabbed her reticule and the gloves she’d forgotten she’d tucked inside the reticule, and then turned to her sister only to meet her skeptical glance.
Lily stood by the doorway, her arms folded over her chest, and she was tapping her foot with marked impatience. “You do realize I’m on my way to a lecture at the Royal Society.”
Daisy nodded. “I understand Lord Allenby is to speak on Sir Isaac Newton’s Philosophiae naturalis principia mathematica. I find the topic fascinating and can’t wait to learn all about it.”
Lily tossed her head back and laughed. “What rot! You wouldn’t even read Lady Forsythia’s silly book, but Dillie and I finished it last night while you were at the Malinor ball. It’s actually quite fascinating. The rakehell’s character very much resembles that of a dominant male baboon.”
Daisy rolled her eyes and laughed. “You’re jesting.”
“Not at all. It will make for interesting research. However, Newton is far more interesting to me at the moment. Apparently, to you as well. Why the sudden fascination in principles of mathematics?”
“I’ve had a lifelong passion for the subject,” she said with a merry gleam in her eye, “but never the time to pursue it.”
“Hmm, to pursue it or Lord Gabriel Dayne? Shall I feign surprise when we run into him at the lecture hall?”
Daisy’s gleam faded. “I doubt we’ll see him, Lily. Even if rakehells were about town at this time of day, I doubt they’d spend much time at the Royal Society. However, he spoke so highly of Lord Allenby and the topic of his lecture that it piqued my curiosity.”
“When did he have the chance to speak to you? Last night?”
Daisy blushed as she tried to avoid Lily’s assessing gaze. “Yes, several times. He helped me fix my gown after Aunt Julia accidentally stepped on it. After that, he tried his best to avoid me, but I heard him and Graelem talking about the lecture, so I asked them about it. That was shortly before Gabriel joined Lord Malinor at the card tables.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “And not a half hour later drunkenly accused Malinor’s son, Auguste, of cheating?”
Daisy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Where did you hear that?”
“From Aunt Julia. I can pry all sorts of information out of her at will, so don’t try to deny it happened.”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Daisy said with a resigned sigh. “I don’t understand him, Lily. Perhaps you can help. It’s as though there are two sides to him, one intelligent and charming, and the other slovenly and deceitful. I know the terrible effect too much drink can have on a man, but I just can’t believe he was that deeply in his cups. There must be a logical explanation for his behavior.”
“And you’re determined to discover it.” Lily took her hand and squeezed it gently. “I like him, too. So does Dillie. And since we’re such clever young ladies, we can’t all be fooled by our instincts. If he were truly bad, we’d sense it.”
“Precisely. So what do you think is the cause of his bad behavior?” Although Lily was younger by almost two years, Daisy often turned to her with difficult problems. Lily was the smartest person in England, as far as she and her sisters were concerned, and they greatly admired the nimble workings of her brain, although most of the family and certainly everyone outside the family seemed put off by her.
Lily shrugged. “I’d have to spend a little more time in his company to figure it out. I’ll do it for your sake, and who knows? I might also gather insight from his behavior that I can apply to my baboon research.”
“Ugh! Lily, kindly stop thinking about your baboons.”
She shrugged again. “I can’t. They fascinate me, just as Gabriel fascinates you. Will you allow him to kiss you again?”
“Hush,” Daisy said with a laughing groan. “Don’t remind me of my mistakes. I don’t know why I allowed those kisses to happen.”
Lily pursed her lips in thought. “You told me that he made you feel safe.”
“Ridiculous, isn’t it? Especially since those kisses signified nothing to him.” But they’d affected her and she couldn’t get them or Gabriel out of her thoughts.
Lily nodded. “If we think of him not as a man but a dominant—”
“Honestly, Lily!”
“Well, it’s true. You know even less about men than I do, Daisy. At least I’ve read Sir William Maitland’s early findings on male baboons, and when aroused, they’ll kiss anything female that moves. Anything. The little I know about rakehells indicates they aren’t so very different.”
Daisy simply shook her head and laughed. “I love you, Lily. But you’ve become quite the cynic.”
Lily shot her a grin that reached into her big, blue eyes. “I prefer to think of myself as quite sophisticated.”
Daisy laughed again. “Mother and Father will be so proud. Come on, we don’t want to be late.”
They entered the Royal Society’s oak-paneled lecture hall and found seats just as Lord Allenby struck the gavel to summon the meeting to order. The thuck made by the gavel as it struck wood carried over the din and resounded through the hall.
Daisy glanced around, noting the place was packed mostly with older gentlemen.
“Fossils,” Lily muttered under her breath.
She noticed several young bucks who were far too smartly dressed in silks for the scholarly assemblage, and a smattering of matrons in ghastly bombazine gowns and hats as oversized as their bosoms. Several matrons sported egret feathers atop their hats, and one had an entire bird perched atop her head.
Daisy unfastened the bow to her simple bonnet—a most unfashionable bonnet judging by the disapproving glances cast by these older ladies—set it on her lap, and glanced around once more. She and Lily were the youngest females by about thirty years.
“We’ll never spot your Gabriel in this crush,” Lily said with a sigh.
“Shh! And he isn’t my Gabriel.”
“Perhaps not yet,” she muttered, “but I have every faith he will be. I see his friend, the Duke of Edgeware, over there.”
“Where?” She craned her head to see.
Lily pointed toward the front rows. “There, in the second row.”
Daisy frowned. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”
“Probably took a wrong turn on the way to his favorite den of iniquity.”
“At this time of day?” She laughed softly. “I suppose even he must have interests outside of drinking and debauchery. The man is reputed to be very clever.”
“By whom?” Lily asked, as though the source were relevant.
“Oh, I don’t know, but I’ve heard general talk among the ton.”
Lily gave a little snort. “Anyone who can buckle his own shoe is thought of as clever among that vaunted assemblage. And if that buckle happens to be made of pure gold, why, the man will be thought of as brilliant.”
“Indeed, you’re quite cynical for a youngster,” Daisy said with a shake of her head. “And don’t you dare claim to be sophisticated.”
“I’ll leave that title to you. No, I’m just observant.”
So am I, Daisy thought, nudging Lily’s shoulder. “Look, someone of interest has just entered the hall.”
She’d recognize that thick mane of gold hair and muscular shoulders under a jacket of dark blue superfine anywhere. Gabriel. Her heart skipped a beat... no, many beats.
“Oh, yes. I see him.”
Daisy’s frown deepened. “But who is that ugly little man with him?”
Lily got up on tiptoes to peer over the row of tall hats. “Where? I don’t see anyone.”
Daisy scanned the crowd around Gabriel but could no longer spot the odd-looking man. “I’m sure he was just there.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, suddenly gripped by an inexplicable sense of uneasiness. “Yes, there he is. He’s handing something to Gabriel.”
“A lecture schedule? They’re handing them out at the door.”
“Oh, Lily. Must you always be so logical? The hairs at the nape of my neck are standing on end. I think something untoward is going on. Let’s move closer.”
Before she’d managed so much as a step, Gabriel turned suddenly and pierced her with his rapier-sharp gaze.
“Oh, no! He’s seen us!” she said in an urgent whisper, clutching Lily’s hand. “More important, have we just seen something we weren’t supposed to?”
Lily frowned. “I haven’t seen anything. What are you talking about?”
“I’m not certain myself.” Daisy began to nibble her lower lip. She’d never seen a colder, more deadly look in anyone’s eyes. Or had she been mistaken?
Lily appeared irritatingly calm. “Do you think he’ll come over to greet us?”
“Haven’t you been listening to me? I think something nefarious just took place. Or is about to take place. What if Gabriel suspects I know?” If Gabriel did come over, would his greeting include a knife blade between her ribs?
No, she was being utterly ridiculous. They were practically family, for his own cousin was married to Laurel. One didn’t kill family, did one?
Unless he was utterly deranged. She’d read about that Yorkshire strangler who’d murdered his wife and assorted relatives, and then calmly disposed of their bodies on a desolate moor. The newspaper account was quite chilling and sensational.
She let out the breath she’d been holding, realizing that she was behaving as theatrically as Julia again. Gabriel wasn’t deranged, but he was up to something. She followed his movements as he left his unsavory companion and settled beside the Duke of Edgeware. Daisy watched intently as he and the duke exchanged a few words, and was caught unaware when the duke suddenly turned back and glanced at her.