The King's League Box Set: Regency Romance

by Lucy Adams

  “Then, might I ask if you would be willing to explain it all to me, Lord Farrell?” Lady Augusta said, only to screw up her features, her fingers white as they twisted together. “I mean, Lord Rushton.”

  He nodded, a flush creeping up his throat as he saw the disappointment, the confusion and the fear in her eyes. This had not gone as he had intended. When he had heard that Lady Augusta had gone out for a ride, he had thought to take the opportunity to seek out more parchment for his letter to The King’s League, given that he had wasted all of his in his various attempts to write to them with a steady hand. He ought not to have begun to write his letter within her rooms but had felt no sense of urgency given that he had thought Lady Augusta away from the estate. Like a fool, he had acted rashly, had allowed his eagerness to have his letter written to overtake him, pushing him hard into folly.

  “The reason I will speak to you with honesty, Lady Augusta, is because I do not believe that you are guilty of any crimes,” he began, seeing her pallor turn almost grey as she stared at him. “There is nothing about you that suggests you are doing anything untoward. I have spoken to the staff about you at length and aside from the occasional ride—which is never on the same day or at the same time—or your penchant for walking in the woods on occasion, you have no reason to leave the estate.”

  Lady Augusta swallowed hard but did not say anything. Her eyes were still wide with fright, her lips pressed hard together and her spine rigid as she sat in her chair. There was so much tension around her that it was as if he could almost reach out and touch it.

  “You do not walk in the woods every week nor every month at the same, set time,” he continued, having gleaned all of this from various conversations with the staff who attended him. “In fact, your only consideration seems to be your father. He takes up the greatest amount of your time but you do not have anything to do with matters relating to his estate or to any other part of his business.”

  “Of course I do not!” Lady Augusta exclaimed, her voice echoing around the room as she stared at him. “My father may often be walking in the depths of melancholy but that does not mean he has lost his competence! He does not need to me in that regard.”

  “Quite so.” He could see that he had upset her with such a remark, having had no intention do so. “What I mean to state by this, Lady Augusta, is that what I am currently investigating, I believe, has nothing whatsoever to do with you. But I cannot say the same for the other members of this household, you understand.” Aware of the immediate storm brewing in her eyes, he held up both hands defensively. “That is not to say that your father carries any guilt, Lady Augusta, but rather that I must consider everything with the greatest of care.”

  Lady Augusta lifted her chin, her eyes sharp and color slowly returning to her cheeks. She gave him a proud, almost haughty look, her whole body stiff with evidently righteous anger.

  “My father has done nothing wrong,” she told him, unequivocally. “He is a gentleman.”

  “That may very well be so,” he agreed calmly, “but I would not be doing as I am expected if I merely dismissed a gentleman from my considerations, simply because he is a gentleman.” He sighed and sat back in his chair, trying to relax into it in direct contrast with Lady Augusta’s tight and rigid frame. Watching her closely, he saw her eyes flicker although she did not move nor speak. What was it she was thinking at present? Was she just as angry with him, just as upset, as she had been before? Did she trust a single word he was saying?

  Then, she gave a quiet clearing of her throat, untying her fingers from each other and smoothing out her skirts. “You say that you are investigating something here,” she said, watching him closely. “Something in this vicinity. I presume this was the reason that I discovered you in that pit in the woods?

  He nodded, wincing as he recalled the pain that had hit him as he had awoken in the darkness. “We were being fired upon,” he told her. “My tiger was driving the horse and cart and we were to make our way back to the nearby village, where we would take the prisoner with us to London.” Shaking his head, he rifled one hand through his hair, remembering the awful moment Mr. Breton had been shot, all that he knew dying with him. “Unfortunately, someone seems to have discovered not only my intention for being in this part of England but also my reasons for capturing Mr. Breton.”

  “Mr. Breton?” she queried, as Marcus gave her a long, rueful look. “Who is he?”

  Sighing, Marcus flung out one hand. “He is the gentleman that was found buried in the woods,” he told her, as Lady Augusta gasped and put one hand over her mouth. “As I said, I was returning with my tiger and Mr. Breton, hoping that he would be able to tell us all that he had been involved in, only for someone to begin to shoot at us.” Another sigh tore itself from his mouth. “Mr. Breton died almost at once. My tiger and I ran for cover, for our horse and cart slid into a deep ditch, only for my legs to find themselves running on air.” He winced and looked at Lady Augusta, who flinched. “The pit was deep and dark and I believe I must have struck my head on a rock of some kind.”

  Lady Augusta swallowed then nodded. “And your tiger?” she asked, softly, her eyes still stern as she watched him. “What of him?”

  A stab of fear ran through his heart. “I do not know where he is gone,” he answered, quietly. “When you spoke to me of a body being found buried in the woods, I feared that it was he.”

  “But it was not.”

  Marcus shook his head. “It sounded very much as though it was Mr. Breton. Whoever shot at us found his body, took him from the cart and buried him in the woods.” Grimacing, he pushed another hand through his hair. “Although it was not a particularly effective grave, from the sounds of it. Whoever it was, they were clearly in a hurry, given the shallowness of the grave itself.”

  Lady Augusta shuddered violently but did not look away, clearly accepting what he had said but determined to find out more. “This person was the man responsible for killing Mr. Breton,” she said, her voice a little quieter than before but fortitude beginning to bloom in her eyes. “And for attempting to kill both you and your tiger.” When he nodded, she pursed her lips, watching him carefully. “Then can I ask, Lord Farrell, what purpose there was in killing Mr. Breton? What was it that he was doing that was of such grave importance?”

  Marcus took a long breath, looking into Lady Augusta’s eyes and questioning whether or not he could truly trust her, as his instinct told him. Hesitating, he took a long breath and then spread his hands. “If I speak to you of this, Lady Augusta, you enter into an agreement with me that you will not speak of it to anyone.” His eyes narrowed and he saw her start with evident surprise at his hard tone. “Not even to your father, Lady Augusta. I must have your word.”

  Lady Augusta licked her lips and for a moment, everything flew out of Marcus’ head, captivated by what he saw. When her eyes looked into his, he found himself tugged all the further away from what he had been doing, lost at the look in her eyes. It was only when she spoke, when she promised to keep all that he said to herself, that he was finally able to drag himself back to where he had been, putting on his stern composure once more and fixing his thoughts on the task at hand. He would have to be careful, he realized, grimacing. Lady Augusta’s company had been very pleasant these last few days and he had come to find her appearance to be more than a little attractive. He could not allow himself to think in such a manner nor behave with anything other than appropriate consideration towards her, not when there was so much of great consequence shared between them.

  “If I have your word, Lady Augusta, then I will explain,” he said, softly, seeing how she leaned forward just a little in her seat, eager to hear what he had to say. “I work for the King.”

  Her reaction was instantaneous. Her eyes widened, one hand flew to cover her mouth and her cheeks roared to life into a shade of deep and unrelenting crimson. A slight tremor shook her frame but Marcus only nodded and smiled softly, as though confirming that what he had said was the trut
h.

  “The King?” Lady Augusta repeated, hardly able to give the words any strength. “And for the Prince then, also?”

  “For the Prince Regent, of course,” Marcus replied. “I am part of a group called The King’s League.” His smile was genuine as he considered his friends and acquaintances who all worked tirelessly to do as they had been tasked. “We meet regularly in London but our investigations can often lead us far from there, forcing us to chase after those who work against our King and our country. We bring them to justice before they can do any great harm.”

  Lady Augusta remained silent for some minutes, her eyes still wide and fixed to his as though she expected him to laugh, throw up his hands and tell her that he had just been pretending and that there was another, simpler explanation for what he did.

  “I see,” she whispered, as he let the silence continue to linger about him, watching her closely so that he could see her reaction in all its fullness. He had no doubt that she was just as innocent as she now appeared, for it was very difficult indeed to pretend such shock and astonishment as was now displayed upon her features. Besides which, the trembling was quite real, and the way she spoke told him that she was quite overcome.

  “Mr. Breton was being used as a messenger,” he explained quickly, wanting to tell her everything in as short a space of time as he could. “Someone near to this estate has been in communication with the French and, in particular, with a gentleman named Mr. Caron.” He could see from her expression that this name meant nothing to her, feeling a little relieved that it was so. “Mr. Caron has continued to accept information and to reply in kind, although under the watchful eye of some gentlemen from The King’s League so that we would not bring any suspicion to the others involved.” He took a breath, hoping he was not overwhelming her with all that he had to say. “Mr. Breton was easy enough to capture. He was waiting in the woods to deliver his message, as he had always done, and myself and my tiger had followed him there, wanting to know who it was he would hand the note to. What we have discovered is that any information about the border between England and Scotland was being passed to the French. Weaknesses can be easily exploited.”

  Lady Augusta blinked rapidly, the color in her cheeks now beginning to fade away. “But he did not appear, this other fellow,” she said, as Marcus lifted his brows in astonishment. “Then this fellow, the one you have not yet found, somehow knew that you were present and waited until you had captured Mr. Breton before removing his life from him.”

  Nodding slowly, Marcus let astonishment and admiration fill him, quite impressed with the lady’s deductions. “That is what I must believe, yes. Mr. Breton did not appear to be a man with great fortitude. I am sure that the person who took his life was well aware that it would not take much persuasion for Mr. Breton to speak openly about all that had gone on.”

  “And thus, you must now wonder who this person is and how they came to know of your intentions,” Lady Augusta finished, not looking at him any more but rather at something just over his shoulder, speaking slowly as though she were in some kind of dream. “And you kept the truth of your identity from me so that I would not tell this person that you were present here.”

  “And because I could not tell whether or not Mr. Breton had spoken to a lady or a gentleman,” he answered, seeing her eyes dart back sharply to his. “Mr. Breton told me, before he died, that the person he met with to deliver the notes he received from Mr. Caron never once revealed his identity. This person was clearly very cautious, which does not give me a good deal to work with in order to discover him.” He let out a frustrated breath but shrugged. “Mr. Breton stated that the person in question never spoke a word to him and always wore a thick cloak of black and covered his face and head with a hat and a scarf.”

  “So it could be anyone at all,” Lady Augusta murmured, looking somewhat troubled.

  He nodded. “Not that I now consider you to be in any way responsible, Lady Augusta, of course.”

  “Of course,” she echoed, her uncertainty growing steadily, her eyes darting from here to there. “I can understand your urgency when it comes to discovering the truth about this person, Lord Farrell—Lord Rushton.” Closing her eyes, she gave a small shake of her head. “You consider that it might be my cousin, I presume?”

  Marcus knew he could not lie. “I need to investigate a little further,” he said, slowly, making certain to keep his voice steady and without inflection. He did not mention that he had not entirely dismissed her father, despite her determination that he had done nothing wrong. “Your cousin’s presence in the house for such a long duration does match with the person receiving the notes from Mr. Caron.”

  Lady Augusta let out a slow breath, coupling her hands together. “And the day I found you, he was out walking in the woods.”

  A surge of interest grabbed Marcus’ attention. “Oh?”

  Lady Augusta cleared her throat and tried to brush her statement away. “That is to say, I met him when I was out walking in the woods the day I discovered you.”

  He narrowed his eyes, recalling what she had said about her cousin’s injury. “When he attempted to….” He could not find words to describe it but from the redness in Lady Augusta’s cheeks, he knew that she understood what he referred to.

  “Yes,” she said, simply. “It does not mean he is guilty, of course, but he does know the woods. He was present that day.”

  Marcus nodded slowly, coupling his hands together and watching the lady closely. She raised her eyes and looked at him, abject fear in her expression.

  “What is it you intend to do now?”

  “I must find the perpetrator and have evidence to prove that they are the ones who carry the guilt for what has gone on,” he said, calmly. “It is clear that there is someone near to this estate….if not within this estate, who is in league with our enemies.”

  Lady Augusta sucked in a sharp breath, her fear evident. “Then you will not leave?”

  “No, I cannot,” he told her, firmly, aware that he was taking her hospitality for granted but that he could not permit himself to go elsewhere, not when the person responsible was still at large. “And, if I am truthful, Lady Augusta, I fear for my own safety.” He grimaced, shrugging his shoulders. “The man who shot Mr. Breton knew who I was. I fear he may still be searching for me.” Part of him wondered what reaction Mr. Stayton would have should he step out into the hallway and simply greet him, wondering if the expression on the man’s face would show him more than he could ever say.

  “And that is why you did not give me your real name,” Lady Augusta murmured, thoughtfully. “I quite understand now, Lord Rushton.” Shaking her head to herself, she muttered one or two things under her breath before lowering her head into her hands, sitting forward as she did so. Marcus watched her closely, wondering what her response would be to all that he had told her. He did feel a little guilty over what he had done, aware that he had deceived her but knowing full well that it had been required.

  “This letter,” Lady Augusta said, lifting her head and speaking to him directly, with a firmness in her manner now that suggested she had made some sort of decision. “Will they send someone to help you?”

  He hesitated, not quite certain what the League would do. “They might choose to do so, yes,” he told her, honestly. “Since I cannot be certain as to where my tiger has gone, I am here very much on my own.” One shoulder lifted again. “But I am able to manage such things, Lady Augusta. I would not wish to trouble you further.”

  Lady Augusta waved a hand. “No, that it is not what I mean at all,” she told him, as he frowned. “I mean to help you, Lord Rushton.”

  For a moment, the world around him stilled. He saw Lady Augusta’s calm expression, as though she had suggested something that was very practical indeed, expecting him to agree to it at once. Instead, he began to shake his head, not wanting to bring Lady Augusta into any sort of danger.

  “Please, do not protest,” Lady Augusta said, with a renewed
flicker of determination in her eyes. “I have had to find a little more courage of late, particularly when it has come to my cousin, and I do not intend to allow it to fail me entirely now.” With a deep breath, she let the corner of her mouth lift into a delicate smile. “Besides which, I find your company here to be a rather enjoyable, Lord Rushton, even if I am now very confused and a little troubled over your deception.” Her gaze was cool even though she smiled. “And I find that my desire is to help you in any way I can. My loyalty is also to the Crown and I wish to do all I can to assist.” Spreading her hands, she tilted her head, her smile now a little rigid. “Besides which, I know this part of England very well indeed. I know the village near to our estate, the people within it and the woods themselves. Would I not be an asset to you, Lord Rushton?”

  He could not argue with such a statement, fully aware that she would be very beneficial to him. And yet, he did not want to involve her any further, for there could be considerable danger to follow. Even to be seen with him was something of a danger, for the man who had attempted to shoot at him could be very near already.

  “I cannot help but feel restraint,” he told her, cautiously. “I must be as a shadow, hiding in any nook and cranny so that I remain unobserved.”

  Lady Augusta considered this, then shrugged. “Might you not also be bold?” she suggested, making him frown. “Why not step out into the light? Knowing that there is someone in pursuit of you, someone who might very well believe that you are already gone from this earth, why not step forward and let them see that you are very much alive? Being careful and wary, you might present a strong and confident front in order to draw them out.”

  Again, Marcus was forced to consider this, thinking silently to himself that Lady Augusta was both intelligent and well considered, although he did not much like the idea of stepping out with such boldness. Although he could not pretend that her idea did not have merit.