The King's League Box Set: Regency Romance

by Lucy Adams

  Sebastian could not help but smile at this, the last of his angst dying away. “I know that Lady Callander was hoping to see Lady Franks last evening,” he said, as Lord Franks lifted his brows. “But you were not in attendance, I think?”

  Lord Franks hesitated, then shook his head. “My dear lady was unwell,” he said, slowly, although there was a glimmer in his eyes that Sebastian understood at once. “I am sure that, once she feels well enough to go out into society again, she will make certain to call upon Lady Callander almost at once. In fact,” he continued, with a small smile, “I know that my wife is very eager indeed to see her dear friend. It simply has not been possible as yet as Lady Franks has been unable to leave the townhouse.”

  “And when is to be the momentous occasion?” Sebastian asked, seeing the surprise jump into Lord Franks’ eyes and finding himself laughing. “Come now, Lord Franks!” he chuckled, “I am a gentleman of the League! You cannot surely expect me not to know what it is that you speak of.”

  Lord Franks relaxed and grinned back at him in response. “In six months or so,” he said, beaming delightedly. “Lady Franks is just as delighted as I that we shall soon be furnished with a child of our own, although I know she wishes she felt a little better!”

  “Most understandable,” Sebastian agreed, shaking Lord Franks’ hand again. “Then might I congratulate you, sir. I am sure you will make an excellent father.”

  Lord Franks winced. “One must hope so,” he said, as Lord Watt began to speak, ending their conversation quickly as they drew near to hear what was being said.

  “As many of you will now know,” Lord Watt began, as the gentlemen all listened carefully, “we have discovered that there are spies being brought to London by ship.” He shook his head. “The only reason we have found this out is due to a confession by a spy that was captured, given to us in exchange for his life.” He shrugged, his face set and Sebastian felt the weight of responsibility begin to settle down on his soul again. This was why he had returned to London, this was why he had come again to the League. So that he might find purpose in his life, so that he might play a part in protecting the King and the Prince Regent from those who sought to bring them low.

  “Needless to say, we do not know anything other than this,” Lord Monteforte added, as Lord Watt nodded. “Those who come on the ship depart from it as crewmen and given the number of ships that arrive on the docks each day, we simply do not have the resources to detain and question everyone that sets foot on land.”

  “And our spy could not give us any further details,” Lord Watt added, ruefully. “He himself had not come to England in such a way but rather heard of it from another.”

  Sebastian frowned, recalling what had been said of Lord Chesterfield by the two gentlemen in Whites.

  “I would look for any suggestions now as to what might be done in order to discover the truth.”

  Sebastian bit his lip. He could not very well suggest that they investigate Lord Chesterfield, just because he was involved in shipping and trading. That made no discernible sense, particularly because he had no other reason to suspect Lord Chesterfield.

  He cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Might we consider those we know of who are involved in such things?” he asked, speaking slowly as his thoughts quickly set themselves in order. “What I mean to say is, there are gentlemen who are involved in shipping. Might it not be best to look into each one, so that we might then strike their names from any suggestion of involvement?”

  Some gentlemen exchanged a glance with another, whilst others frowned or looked away, considering what had been suggested.

  “There will be a good number of gentlemen involved in such things, will there not be?” someone asked, sending doubt spiraling through Sebastian. “There might be too many for us to consider!”

  “No, I do not think there will be too many,” Lord Franks interjected, looking at Sebastian. “Certainly it would give us somewhere to begin.”

  “But it might not be a gentleman of high standing who is involved in this matter!” someone else protested. “In which case, it is nothing more than futile.”

  Lord Fitzherbert twisted his lips but gestured towards Sebastian. “I think that it is a wise suggestion,” he stated, as Lord Eldridge, who stood beside him, nodded. “It would take a good deal of influence and wealth in order to set up such a situation as this.”

  “And it would require someone to make the arrangements on the gentleman’s behalf,” Lord Lexington added, as Sebastian nodded. “For surely whoever is doing such a thing would not willingly pass on their true identity to our enemies for fear that they might then use that knowledge against him.”

  “Then it is settled, I think,” Lord Monteforte said, as the other gentlemen nodded. “We shall each discover the names of those in the beau monde who are involved in such affairs and then seek to discover what we can about their arrangements.” He gave Sebastian a tight smile. “It is a start at least.”

  “Indeed,” Sebastian murmured, a little relieved that his idea had not been thrust aside.

  Lord Watt cleared his throat. “There is also the matter of Lord Hazelton,” he continued, speaking of an affair with a lady of questionable heritage. “Has anyone been able to discover the lady’s connections with France?”

  It was not a matter that Sebastian himself was involved with, although he was a little surprised to hear that a gentleman such as Lord Hazelton — whom he was acquainted with but certainly did not know well at all — was so indiscreet as to have the beau monde know of his attentions towards a questionable lady. He rolled his eyes at Lord Hearst, who chuckled.

  “You have not heard of this matter, I think,” Lord Hearst said, as Sebastian shook his head. “Lord Hazelton — a gentleman who is a little foolish and quite indiscreet — has seemed to form some sort of attachment to a lady of questionable means.”

  “Questionable, in what sense?” Sebastian asked, as Lord Hearst grinned. “She is not a lady with a title?”

  “No, indeed she is not!” Lord Hearst replied, with such feeling that Sebastian frowned. “She is a lady of the night, working under Madame Bereford.”

  Sebastian’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Lord Hearst in shock, who only chuckled in response. For a gentleman to form any sort of attachment with such a lady was more than a little foolish, especially if he was as indiscreet as to permit others to see him to do so.

  “We know very little about this lady, of course,” Lord Hearst replied, with a lift of one eyebrow. “Lord Berkshire and Lord Windsor have been charged with discovering what they can about her, which includes calling upon the lady in question.”

  Sebastian could not help but laugh, seeing the way Lord Hearst’ grin broadened. “A difficult task, then?”

  “They have been most discreet,” Lord Hearst replied, with a shake of his head. “But neither of them have discovered very much about the lady at all. She does not like to speak of herself, it seems.”

  “They are trained to keep such things to themselves,” Sebastian replied, with a shake of his head. “They do not speak of their past. They do not give their real names to a gentleman.” He cocked his head. “By what name does she call herself?”

  “She is merely ‘Sarah’,” Lord Hearst replied, with a shake of his head. “That is all we know of her, save for the fact that she speaks with a slight accent to her words, which, of course, makes us consider that she is not from England.”

  Sebastian bit his lip, his brows knotting together as he considered. “And has someone attempted to ply Madame Bereford with a little more coin?” he asked, as Lord Hearst frowned. “She may be more willing to speak to us about her girl if we offered her some more money.”

  “That has been considered, yes.”

  Sebastian turned to see Lord Eldridge approaching, greeting the gentleman quickly.

  “It has been considered, you say?”

  “But not taken forward as yet,” Lord Eldridge answered, with a sma
ll sigh. “We do not want to give the lady in question any sort of fright, make her aware that there are those seeking to know her better.”

  Sebastian hesitated before he spoke again, letting his thoughts wind through his mind for a moment or two longer. “Then might we not come to her as a friend of Lord Hazelton’s?” he suggested, as the other two gentlemen looked at him steadily. “State that we are a little concerned by his attachment to the girl and seeking Madame Bereford’s reassurance? It might be that she will tell us more about the lady if she fears that her income from Lord Hazelton’s visits will soon be disappearing.”

  Lord Eldridge nodded slowly, his thumb rubbing across his chin as he thought. “That is a wise consideration,” he said, as Sebastian allowed himself a small smile. “Are you acquainted with Lord Hazelton?”

  Sebastian nodded, not thinking about what such a question might mean. “I am.”

  “Then might you be willing to do as you have suggested, Lord Millerton?”

  His smile dropped away at once as he saw Lord Eldridge looking at him expectantly. He had not expected to be the one involved in such things so quickly, biting his lip for a moment before he answered. “I — I suppose I could — ”

  “Capital,” Lord Hearst said quickly. “And I can attend with you, should you require it?”

  Considering for a moment, Sebastian nodded. “That would certainly give the impression to Madame Bereford that I am arrived not to seek any sort of meeting with any of her ladies, but rather simply to speak to her about my acquaintance,” he said, firmly. “Yes, Lord Hearst, that would be very helpful, I am sure.”

  Lord Hearst grinned, his fingers pushing back his fair hair as a flicker of excitement entered his hazel eyes. “Excellent,” he said, with a good deal more enthusiasm than Sebastian himself felt. “When shall we first call upon her?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “I should reacquaint myself with Lord Hazelton first, I think,” he said, no eagerness to go to Madame Bereford’s house. “I shall see if I can encourage him to speak to me of this young lady before I thereafter call upon Lady Bereford. That way, if he discovers that I have spoken to her, he will have no reason not to think that my motives are genuine.”

  Lord Eldridge smiled his agreement. “A wise consideration,” he said, firmly. “Then I shall inform the other two gentlemen of your intentions, so that they are both aware of it.” His lips quirked. “Let us hope that, at our next meeting, we have something a little more substantial to speak of when it comes to this lady of the night!”

  Sebastian cleared his throat, rose and clasped his hands behind his back. His heart was hammering a little too forcefully for his liking but try as he might, he could not quell it. Lady Callander was just about to step into his drawing room and the anticipation in his heart had sent a flutter of nervousness hurrying straight through him.

  “Lady Callander, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Merriweather.” Sebastian smiled brightly as Lady Callander walked into the room, noting that she brought a maid with her who immediately sat on a small chair in the corner of the room, facing the wall. “Good afternoon, Lady Callander.” He smiled at her brightly, only to notice that her face distinctly lacked any sort of smile or contentment. Rather, she looked distinctly troubled. “Is something the matter?”

  Lady Callander sank into a chair, her light green eyes flickering with concern. “The matter that I was to speak to you about, Lord Millerton, the one that I considered too inconsequential to talk to you about before…..” She trailed off, looking at him, her lip caught between her teeth. “I think I should speak to you of it now.”

  “Please.” He sat forward, only to be interrupted by the arrival of the maid with a tea tray. They were forced to wait as the maid set things out directly in front of Lady Callander, who smiled her thanks even though it did not quite linger in her eyes. He wanted to hurry the maid along but gritted his teeth and waited as patiently as he could, his heart beating at a quickened pace. The maid seemed to take an age, even though he knew it was most likely his eagerness rather than her lack of haste.

  “My apologies, Lady Callander,” he said, the moment the door closed. “What is it that now concerns you?”

  Lady Callander let out a slow breath, her face pinched. “It may very well be nothing of any consequence,” she said, reaching into her reticule and pulling out a folded piece of paper. “I had Lord Hazelton calling upon me some days ago and he told me the most extraordinary thing.”

  “Oh?” His curiosity was piqued. “About what, might I ask?”

  Lady Callander squared her shoulders and took a breath, as though what she was about to say would be considered quite ridiculous. “Lord Hazelton was convinced that the gentleman I described as my husband was not, in fact, my husband.”

  Sebastian frowned, feeling rather puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “He described him as being gregarious and full of life,” she said, spreading her hands and shaking her head. “I must admit, I did laugh but Lord Hazelton was very upset with me for doing so.”

  “He must be mistaken,” Sebastian replied, not understanding why Lady Callander seemed to be so confused. “Surely that is just a poor memory, or someone becoming mixed up with what actually occurred.”

  Lady Callander nodded. “That is what I first thought,” she agreed, with a shrug. “But then he described him in such detail and with such firmness that I found it very difficult to disagree with him.”

  “I see.”

  “But,” Lady Callander continued, with another great breath, “what confused me the most was that he told me that my husband had green eyes, was tall and quite slim of figure.” Her lips twisted, her eyes darting away from him. “I did challenge him on this, of course, but he only became thoroughly confused and, I think, believed that I was teasing him by being obtuse.”

  “That is a little odd, indeed,” Sebastian admitted. “And this now troubles you?”

  Lady Callander nodded. “How can it not?” she asked, handing him the note. “Particularly when I have only just received this note from him?”

  Holding her gaze for another moment, Sebastian then turned his attention to the note. Unfolding it, he read it quickly, his brow knotting as he took in what was said.

  ‘Lady Callander, I must inform you that there is something more about your late husband that I have discovered. It is not as it seems. I do not believe that the Earl you knew and the one that I was acquainted with were one and the same. Allow me to call upon you at your earliest convenience.’

  “What am I to make of it?” she asked, looking at him with searching eyes. “I believed him to be mistaken at first but now to have received this…..” She trailed off, her lip clenched between her teeth again as he folded the note up carefully, his mind caught on Lord Hazelton’s name. He was a gentleman that appeared to be oft mentioned of late, given that the League were also investigating his connections to the lady at Madame Bereford’s. He hesitated before speaking, wanting to reassure Lady Callander but, at the same time, finding his mind beginning to whirl through the possibilities.

  “I am sure that there is nothing to concern yourself with,” he began, slowly, “but I will inform you that there is something about Lord Hazelton that the League are also looking into. I do not think that there is anything that would connect him from one situation to the next but it is worth considering, at least.”

  Lady Callander’s eyes had widened. “I see.”

  “I would meet with him,” Sebastian continued, “and mayhap just as soon as you can. Hear what he has to say and consider it. Inform the League if there is anything that concerns you. I —”

  “Would you not meet him with me?”

  The question made him stop short. He had not even thought about doing such a thing, but now that she had asked him, he felt both an eagerness to aid her in whatever way she wished alongside a faint desire to protect her.

  “Yes, of course,” he answered, gently. “If it would reassure you?”

  She
let out a long breath. “It would, very much,” she answered, looking a little less concerned. “I shall write to him this very afternoon and thereafter, let you know what is said.” Picking up her teacup, she allowed herself to take a small sip before setting it back down on the china plate. “I thank you for your willingness, Lord Millerton.”

  “I would do anything I could to help you, Lady Callander,” before he could stop himself. “Truly, I —”

  “You are very kind, Lord Millerton,” Lady Callander interrupted, before he could say more. “You do not know what a relief this is to me. I confess that I fear I have been a little overwrought over something that does not merit it!”

  He smiled at her, glad that she felt such a way after only such a small decision. “Not at all, Lady Callander.”

  She rose. “I shall write to him at once,” she said, hurrying towards the door as though every second was of great importance. “And thereafter, I shall write to you also. I thank you again, Lord Millerton.”

  “But of course.” He made to go to her, to take her hand, to bow over her fingers and feel her hand in his, but then the moment passed much too quickly and she was gone. Heaving a great sigh — a mixture of regret and contentment, Sebastian sat back down in his chair and allowed himself to consider all that she had said again. Was there anything to Lord Hazelton’s remarks? Or was he simply becoming mixed up with another gentleman? Either way, Sebastian had to admit that he was rather curious as to what would be said when they met with him.

  Chapter Five

  The response to her note agreeing to meet Lord Hazelton whenever it next suited him had been met with a flurry of responses — albeit the following morning. Lord Hazelton had sent one note, and then another, and then, finally, a third, with each detailing a different time and place that they were to meet. She had written to Lord Millerton almost at once, begging him to come to call upon her at his earliest convenience.

  Bridgette was greatly confused at her notes from Lord Hazelton, wondering why the gentleman had sent her three notes, each with a different time and place for their meeting. Spreading them out before her on her writing desk, she sat with her quill poised, trying to think of what she ought to write back to him in return. Was she to ask him to clarify? She was not certain she would have time to receive a response from him, given that the second note had stated that they would meet at two o’clock precisely at St James’ Park and that it was already almost midday.