Caroline Gold was a conundrum.
One minute he thought she might indeed be spying, and the next, he was equally convinced she wasn’t.
When he handed over a name for investigation, the person would be followed and watched, their communications and routine observed closely. But no one could follow Caroline any closer than he could as her betrothed.
That meant he needed to spend more time with her. While being in the company of a beautiful woman was no hardship, he faced a certain amount of personal danger when he did so with Caroline. His attraction to her grew each day, or perhaps leaped would be a more apt description.
He couldn’t remember the last time a few kisses had affected him so. The taste of her, the scent of her, the feel of her in his arms. The memory had him shifting in his chair. He didn’t understand why she pulled at him so.
Was it merely because she puzzled him?
His footman poured him more coffee, providing a needed distraction. He’d acquired a taste for it during one of his trips to France. After sampling several, he’d found a particular type he enjoyed. How unfortunate it was so difficult to obtain these days.
He turned the page to a continuing mystery series written by A. Golden he was enjoying. The writer had quite the talent.
“Good morning, Richard.”
He glanced up to see his brother stride into the dining room. “Daniel. What brings you by so early in the day?”
Daniel sniffed the air. “Do I smell that coffee of which you’re so fond?” Without waiting for an answer, he gestured for the footman to pour him a cup. “What’s for breakfast?”
“I wasn’t aware we were breaking our fast together this morning.”
“Call it impulse.”
“I would hazard a guess there is some sort of motivation behind your impulse. Does it involve money?” His brother never questioned the limited funds Richard provided but accepted the modest income with gratitude. From what Richard could tell, Daniel was clever with his money. However, he occasionally asked for more.
“Actually, no.” His gaze met Richard’s. “I heard a rumor and I’m certain it couldn’t possibly be true.”
Richard nearly groaned aloud. It hadn’t crossed his mind to tell Daniel of his betrothal.
Daniel sat back in his chair. “Ah. I can see you surmised the reason for my visit. Therefore, it must be true. You are betrothed.”
“You didn’t phrase that as a question. Does that mean it doesn’t require an answer?”
“I require details. I understand the lady is a Miss Caroline Gold. And that the events surrounding the proposal were rather unique.”
The conversation paused as the footman returned with a place setting and a cup. He poured the coffee then offered Daniel dishes from the sideboard.
Daniel dug into the modest offering of eggs, sausage, and kippers with mustard sauce enthusiastically.
“Have you not eaten of late?” Richard asked, amazed at the food his brother could eat and remain in good form.
“Your food always tastes better than mine. Especially the coffee. I visited a coffeehouse earlier this week, but the stuff they serve is barely drinkable. Has a bit of a grit to it, if you know what I mean.” He wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “Unfortunately, there aren’t many coffeehouses left in London.”
“You should’ve been born a few generations earlier to better enjoy their popularity.”
“Perhaps, but the conversations in those places are still fascinating. One of the patrons said it was because most of the men in England spend their days half-drunk.”
Richard frowned. “Truly?”
“Think of it. The water certainly isn’t safe to drink, so everyone consumes watered down ale or wine most of the day. Drinking coffee clears the mind.”
“You mean being sober does.”
“Exactly my point. It can be quite entertaining, especially since all levels of society are represented. Fascinating. The discussions often become heated.”
“You’re not one of the patrons who is heated?”
“Heavens, no. I’m more of an observer.”
It was true. Daniel tended to watch rather than involve himself in the fray, something he’d done even while at university.
“But somehow, despite my skills of observation, I missed your courtship of Miss Gold.”
“That would be because there was no courtship.”
“Then how did you come to be betrothed? While I heard the circumstances were unusual, I didn’t learn the details.”
“An unfortunate series of events created miscommunication.” Richard offered the explanation stiffly. He hated to justify himself. Especially when a situation like this never should’ve occurred.
“You mean you were caught in some sort of compromising circumstance?” His brother’s eyes widened with delight, which Richard didn’t appreciate in the least. “The rogue is caught at last, eh?”
“You act as though I make a habit of dallying with young ladies. That couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“No, you prefer more experienced women, do you not? What was that actress’s name? Or was she a dancer?”
Richard shook his head. “Why are you here, other than to eat my food?”
“I want to meet the lady who will soon be my sister.”
“Humph.” The betrothal was suddenly becoming too real. All these complications meant it would be difficult to unravel.
“Will she be at the Stafford ball tomorrow evening?”
“I don’t know, but I will be.”
Daniel frowned. “How is it you don’t know? I would think you’d have her schedule.”
Because we’re not truly betrothed, he wanted to protest. But he needed to face the reality that they were. The only hope that remained was that it was temporary. They might very well be getting married if circumstances didn’t change.
He gritted his teeth. “We haven’t come to that sort of understanding as of yet. Perhaps because of the brevity of our relationship.”
“How intriguing.” Daniel continued to watch him closely. “I do hope you’ll encourage her to come to the Stafford ball. I am most anxious to be introduced to the lady.”
“I’ll see what can be arranged.” Introducing Daniel and Caroline would only make the betrothal feel more real. And he had no idea how he felt about that.
Chapter Seven
Richard eased into the Staffords’ garden the next evening, looking through the windows to get a feel for the layout of the mansion. Candles lit every window of the front of the home for the ball, but only the ground level windows were lit on this side of the house. The upper windows remained dark.
As one of the three lords Richard suspected of being Le Sournois, Viscount Stafford had caught Richard’s notice before Dumond’s death. The man’s wealth was known far and wide, mainly because he liked to flaunt it. Despite his outrageous spending, his coffers never seemed to run dry.
His taste for all things French, including a fine collection of French art, a French chef, and employing only French maids, was admired by many. To Richard, it was only one more reason to be suspicious.
He’d crossed Richard’s path several times in France, twice in unusual locations. Added to that was a message the viscount had accidently dropped as he’d left a gentlemen’s club in Paris. Richard had seen enough coded messages in his time to recognize it immediately.
Unfortunately, those involved in deciphering messages for the British hadn’t been able to solve it. The message’s content remained a mystery. Nor did Richard know if Stafford was the one who’d killed Dumont. The little evidence Richard had gathered wasn’t enough to make a conclusive decision, so Richard watched him when he could, vowing to monitor the viscount’s activities until he had a reason not to.
This evening provided the perfect opportunity to see if he could learn anything new. Already a crush of people filled the ornate ballroom with its mosaic tiles, marble columns, and hand-painted ceiling. Massive crystal chandeliers holding hundr
eds of candles lit the ballroom.
The crowd would provide the distraction Richard needed to search Stafford’s library. But where was it? While Richard could hazard a guess, he’d hoped the entire house would be lit and reveal where to look.
The terraced gardens and patios were impressive in both size and arrangement. In daylight, they would be even more so. Tonight, torches lined the edges with benches positioned both in shadow and in light. Guests searching for a few minutes of privacy would be pleased with the atmosphere outside.
Richard watched through the windows and open French doors. The musicians already played while dancers spun across the floor. Guests filed slowly into the ball. Liveried footmen circulated with silver trays of crystal wine glasses to offer the guests.
It seemed as if every possible surface reflected light. Obviously, Stafford liked shiny things.
Richard searched the crowd for the viscount and his wife but didn’t see them. They must still be greeting guests in the entrance.
Deciding he’d lingered outside long enough, he entered through an open French door, searching the crowd, only to realize he was looking for Caroline. The lady was never far from his thoughts. He hadn’t had a chance to speak with her to ask if she planned on attending. His brother should be somewhere amidst the crowd as well.
He eased along the far edges of the room, pausing to listen where he could without gaining notice and greeting acquaintances when necessary.
Lady Mintford touched his arm as he passed. “Aberland, what a surprise.”
“My lady.” He bowed over her hand. He’d passed an enjoyable few months seeing the widow, but when she started making not so subtle suggestions about a future together, he’d ended their association. “I hope the evening finds you well.”
“I just heard a terrible rumor.” She pouted, bringing his notice to her rouged lips. “Tell me it isn’t true. You couldn’t possibly be betrothed.”
“’Tis true.” He’d prefer not to tell her anything more. In fact, he’d rather this part of his past didn’t touch his future.
He stilled at the thought. Did he truly think of Caroline as his future? Surely not. Yet the idea wouldn’t leave his mind.
“And who is the paragon of a woman who convinced you to propose?” Still her lower lip protruded, making her displeasure more than clear.
“Miss Caroline Gold. Do you know her?”
“I can’t say that I do. Perhaps you will introduce us.” But the hard glitter that came to her eyes had Richard promising himself that he wouldn’t. Heaven knew what the bitter widow might tell Caroline.
“Perhaps.” He smiled and moved away.
He’d made it a quarter of the way around the room when his senses went on high alert. Cautiously, he turned to view the crowd, searching for the source of his awareness.
Caroline stood only a few feet away, alongside her sister. She hadn’t yet seen him, giving him a chance to observe her for a moment. Or rather, admire her.
She looked especially beautiful this evening. He used that word far too often to describe her, but she truly was. After seeing Lady Mintford, Caroline was a breath of fresh air. The harshness of the world had not defeated her. He could imagine how difficult her father’s failing health had been on the entire family, but especially on her as the eldest of three sisters.
In moments like this, it was difficult to believe she might betray her country. Impossible, in fact. But hadn’t he wanted to believe the same thing of Maria?
As if pulled to her by an invisible string, he stepped closer, noting the moment she became aware of him. How interesting that they seemed to have such a deep sense of each other. He didn’t think he’d ever experienced the feeling with anyone else.
She stilled, the rise and fall of her breath halting. Her head tilted to the side before she turned to face him. Her green eyes met his and her smile brightened.
That immediate joy tightened his chest, forcing him to feel. The sensation was terribly uncomfortable, as though something was reluctantly awakening deep inside him. But then his lips curved into a smile to answer hers, something he rarely did. The tightness eased, loosening into a warmth that spread through his entire length.
He had no idea what that warmth was but only knew it felt good. He hadn’t experienced such a feeling in a long time. The urge to draw her into his arms for a heated kiss was so strong that it took him aback. He forced himself to breathe even as he acknowledged her curtsy with a courtly bow.
“I wasn’t certain you’d be here.” No note of censure laced her tone nor did any coyness. Rather, he had the impression she was merely making an observation.
“We shall have to better coordinate our schedules.”
“Indeed.” She glanced around before looking back at him. “Quite an impressive crowd.”
“Yes.” But he had eyes only for her. Her gown was a deep shade of rose, making her skin appear luminous.
“Good evening.” His brother’s voice interrupted Richard’s musings. Perhaps that was for the best.
“Hello, Daniel.” He turned to Caroline and her sister then made the introductions.
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Daniel told her.
“As am I.” Caroline looked back and forth between the two as if comparing them. Richard wondered what she saw. “I have heard many good things about you.”
Daniel looked askance at Richard then back at Caroline. “You must be jesting. I believe he sometimes forgets he has a brother.”
Richard shook his head. Yet he couldn’t protest overmuch. Daniel was partly right. Richard often became immersed in his work for Whitehall and was gone for long periods of time. Once he returned, several days would pass before he was free to return to a semblance of a normal life. Before he felt like returning to one. Far worse was his failure to call on Daniel even when he was home.
Being pulled from one side of his life to the other challenged him more now than it had in previous years. The time needed to make the mental shift lengthened as he grew older. Added to that were the times when the two blended, blurring the lines overmuch. The sensation was disconcerting.
“I highly doubt that,” Caroline reassured Daniel then gave Richard a questioning look.
“Never,” he said to Daniel at her silent prodding.
The conversation continued, touching on the inconsequential topics that new acquaintances so often did—the weather, the traffic, a few people they both knew.
“I’m delighted you are joining the family,” Daniel said.
If Richard hadn’t been watching closely, he might’ve missed the slight widening of her eyes, her lips briefly rounding into a circle. Either she’d nearly forgotten their betrothal or she considered it temporary as he did.
“Thank you. I’m delighted as well.” She smiled at Richard, but its brittleness didn’t escape him.
They spoke for a few minutes before Daniel took his leave and her sister stepped away as well.
“Your brother seems very nice.”
“And nothing like me?” Richard asked. He tried to contain his cynicism when near her but knew he didn’t always succeed.
She laughed. “I’m quite fond of you.”
He stilled at her casual remark. While she probably meant nothing by it, the wave of emotion that rolled over him nearly overwhelmed him. Daniel had always been the better-liked brother. To think she might prefer Richard... He hardly knew what to think.
“Besides, I don’t know either of you well enough to make such comparisons. That would be no different than asking if you think I’m like either of my sisters.”
“You’re not.” Of that he had no doubt. “You are special. Different.”
She raised her brow. “Why is it I’m uncertain once again whether you’re complimenting me or merely remarking on my behavior?”
“I obviously need to try harder.” He caught himself before he said anything more. What on earth was he doing? Flirting was all well and good but not with Caroline. That held too much risk. He need
ed to keep his focus on his goal, not on her.
As though to confirm his thought, Viscount Stafford stepped into Richard’s line of vision, reminding him of his purpose this evening. Resisting the temptation to continue his conversation with Caroline was more difficult than he expected, but he needed to complete his search of the library before the viscount decided to escape his guests and seek refuge there.
He took Caroline’s gloved hand and raised it to his lips. “I must speak with someone, but I would ask for a dance with you upon my return.”
“Of course.”
He left before he decided to do something rash, like give up his search so he could find a quiet alcove to share another kiss with her. Nonsensical idea.
Doing his best to avoid attention, he moved to the rear hall. Several rooms had been set up with card tables and were filled with people. He continued past, finding fewer and fewer people as he went. Making sure no one watched, he opened several of the doors off the hall that were interior rooms but didn’t find the library.
Hearing voices approaching, he stepped inside one of the rooms—a back parlor from what he could tell—until the voices passed. Then he took the rear stairs to the second level to continue his search and was finally rewarded when he opened a door near the top of the stairs.
He closed himself inside, retrieved a candle from a side table and lit it from the dying coals of the fire. Holding it aloft to survey the room, he surveyed the large, impressive space with its open timber ceiling and parquet floor. Tall shelves lined three of the walls with leather-bound volumes filling the shelves.
The arrangement of books looked more artful than practical from what Richard could tell. He’d be willing to wager that many of the books were written in French, and the viscount had never opened most of them.
Richard eased toward the massive mahogany desk at the far end. That was the most likely place Stafford would hide any secrets. Hurrying, he set the candle on the desk, careful it didn’t tip. He opened the desk drawers, taking time to make sure he didn’t disturb anything. If the viscount were involved in treasonous activities, he would notice anything out of place.
To Richard’s frustration, the desk revealed little. A few personal letters, correspondence from a man of business, miscellaneous notes with dates and times jotted on them, but all from the past. None were helpful.
Romancing The Rogue (The Rogue Chronicles Book 1) Page 7