Falconer's Heart

by Janice Bennett

  Belmont resisted the urge to drag Riki free of that cloying hold and plant his old friend a facer.

  Riki untangled herself neatly on her own, under the pretense of peering more closely into a display case. When she straightened up from her scrutiny of an Egyptian figurine, she fluttered her lovely lashes at Sir Julian with devastating effect. “I wanted to go. I can see you don’t approve, but there it is. I needed to see my cousin on family business and the officials decided that there was no need to send two people. So here I am.”

  Sir Julian reclaimed her arm and led her on. “You sailed from New York, you said? I have never been there myself but I have heard it is a pleasant enough town. Are you from there?”

  “No.” She stopped once more to examine a vase.

  Belmont drew back behind a small knot of people to keep from being seen.

  “I’m from a place so small I am sure you’d never have heard of it,” Riki went on. “Are you interested in America?”

  To that, Sir Julian was forced by politeness to answer in the affirmative. Belmont continued to follow them, listening with amused approval to Riki’s improvised and undoubtedly fictional account of life in the former Colonies. Though Sir Julian listened with the appearance of fascination, Belmont knew him to be bored.

  So why did his old friend question Riki so closely? Concern that they were being taken in by an adventuress? Not for one moment did he believe Sir Julian interested in the supposed political ramifications of her visit. But the messages she carried to Portugal—indeed, Belmont’s own aborted journey there… Damn it, if Julian is attempting to aid the French—for whatever reason—he might very well behave in exactly this manner.

  Riki drew back from the display case and saw Belmont. Her whole face lit up—and suddenly his ill temper evaporated. Only a slight edge of distrust remained.

  “What are you doing here?” Impulsively she stepped forward, holding out her free hand.

  Her other, he noted, remained firmly within Julian’s arm. Belmont raised her fingers to his lips before releasing her, then turned to Julian.

  Languidly, the dandy raised his glass, the better to survey the viscount. A taunting smile played about his lips. “Dear boy, has something put you out of temper?”

  “A difficult day. My assistant has resigned, you see. Whatever brings you here? I hadn’t thought antiquities to be one of your delights.”

  “No, I prefer much younger objects of beauty.”

  He smiled down at Riki in a manner that made Belmont’s fists curl into punishing bunches of fives. With a concerted effort, he relaxed them.

  “Miss van Hamel expressed an interest in the museum, so what could I do but offer to escort her? Ah…and what brings you here?” He swung his quizzing glass by its riband, his sardonic gaze never leaving Belmont’s face.

  “Solicitude, my friend. I couldn’t imagine your making the rounds without desiring company to alleviate your boredom.” He offered his arm to Riki and the little minx took it promptly, fighting back a smile. Lord, I must be behaving like a jealous fool. Deliberately he avoided her eye and struggled with his growing irritation with Riki—and with himself.

  He did not have a chance for private speech with her until after Sir Julian drove her back to the house and took his leave. Belmont consigned his curricle to the care of his groom and followed her up the front steps.

  “Miss van Hamel?” He intercepted her in the entry hall, where Newly was relieving her of her pelisse. “A word?”

  “A whole one?” She smiled up at him. “We’ve become remarkably talkative, haven’t we?”

  He clenched his teeth. “I see it amuses you to turn everything into a jest.”

  “Yes it does, rather. You should try it yourself. It makes life so much more enjoyable.”

  He took her elbow and propelled her into the front salon, which stood empty. “Were you pursuing another suspect this afternoon?”

  “I’d hardly call it pursuing. He called to take me driving in the park but it was really much too cold. So I seized my opportunity.”

  “Does this mean you’ve cleared my uncle of all charges of treason?”

  At that she frowned. “I wish I could.” A rueful smile just touched her lips. “Really, I don’t believe I’m very good at being a spy. They both asked searching questions that could be interpreted as no more than a concern for you.”

  “For me?” That startled him.

  “Yes, they both seem to regard me as a ‘suspicious person’. Really, you can have no idea how lowering that is. I’ve always considered myself respectable.”

  “Clearly this has given you a new insight into your character,” he couldn’t resist murmuring.

  She made a face at him. “At least Felicity likes me.”

  “That’s probably because she isn’t on your suspect list. Did you arrive at any startling conclusions?” he asked abruptly.

  She shook her head. “I’d say I’d wasted my day if I hadn’t enjoyed myself so much.”

  “You mustn’t let yourself fall prey to practiced rakes.” He drew his snuffbox from his pocket, opened it with an expert flick and helped himself to a pinch.

  She regarded this activity with a reproving eye. “Felicity considers Sir Julian to be the most likely traitor.”

  He paused in the act of returning the enameled box to his pocket. “Does she? Why?”

  “She doesn’t like him. She calls him a simpering fop.”

  Belmont shook his head. “Purely affectations. But why did she tell you and not me?”

  “Probably because she knew you’d simply defend your friend. If it escaped your notice, it was your first impulse right now.”

  Belmont bit back his retort. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. “When do you intend to subject Linton to your questioning?”

  “Subject?” She fluttered her long lashes in feigned innocence. “It was my impression Mr. Randall and Sir Julian enjoyed my company this day.”

  “If you have a try at Linton, you will have my sister Clarissa to deal with.”

  Riki laughed and shook her head, then sobered abruptly. “I promise I won’t cause any trouble. But we must uncover our traitor.”

  “I think you’ve done quite enough. Leave it to me—and my department.”

  Riki bit her full lower lip. “Have you learned anything about Marie Marley?”

  “I mentioned her name to the proper office this morning.”

  “Did you? Thank you. But I take it from your expression you drew a blank.”

  “If you mean nothing was known of her, I warned you that would be the case. But discreet inquiries are now being made.”

  She nodded. “That’s all I ask.”

  She hesitated, and Belmont received the impression she was about to ask him something more. Instead she turned abruptly away.

  “I…I’d better change before dinner. We go to a musical soiree tonight, don’t we? It’s very kind of you to permit me to attend.”

  His gaze rested on the back of her head, where her thick, smooth hair just brushed her delicate shoulders. There was another freckle, one he hadn’t noticed before. He looked away. “You seem well able to guard your tongue.”

  She glanced back, and awarded him a shaky smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I won’t commit the one offense I’ve come here to prevent.”

  “No, you won’t.” But he spoke the words so softly she couldn’t have heard as she went out the door.

  He stared after her for a moment, then pulled himself together. Riki was not the only person who wished to do some investigating this night. He made his way to his chamber to dress for the coming event.

  They took their time over dinner and arrived at the Allertons’ townhouse a little after the appointed hour. Belmont watched Felicity drag Riki off to meet several of her friends, and knew no more than a momentary worry. He had other things to occupy his mind.

  Sir Julian stood in a corner with a young matron of delicately fair complexion and delightfully fas
t reputation. The strategy that obviously occupied his mind had a great deal to do with conquest but nothing to do with the military. Damn suspecting his old friend. This is Riki’s fault. But the questions remained.

  Warwick, after exchanging warm greetings with Riki, settled a little way off with the dazzling Marie Marley at his side. That lady leaned back in her chair, her languid air only adding to her sultry allure. She might well coax secrets from the most ardent loyalist.

  Several acquaintances hailed him, and Belmont joined the whist table they started. From there he could keep an eye on most of the assembled company. Riki, he was pleased to note, moved to his mother’s side and listened with apparent delight to that lady’s undoubtedly scurrilous monologue on the failings and foibles of everyone who caught her eye.

  Clarissa strolled into the card room, resplendent in a gown of yellow silk that must have set Linton back a considerable sum. She hesitated as she scanned the room, spotted Belmont and bore down on her brother.

  “Belmont, how disagreeable of you to hide in here. I most particularly want you to talk to Linton. It is the most dreadful thing. He has actually spoken of retiring again. This time I fear he means it!”

  Belmont played his next card without looking up. “That might be the best thing for his health.”

  “Belmont! Oh do finish that silly game and come with me.” She waited in seething impatience until the last trick was taken then grasped his arm.

  With a pained expression, he removed her fingers from where she crushed the sleeve of his velvet coat, and stood. “Please, Clarissa, strive for a little decorum.”

  Thus admonished, she released him. “You will talk to Linton, will you not?”

  “I will not.” Still, he strolled with her to the other room. Why does Linton’s possible retirement distress her? Is there some reason she wants her husband to remain in the War Office? He broke off that thought. He was getting as bad as Riki, seeing potential traitors everywhere. He might as well suspect Clarissa as—as Sylvester, perhaps?

  Linton spoke freely before his wife, though. Too damn freely. What if he spoke of military strategy? Would Clarissa pay attention? He cast a considering glance at her as she hung petulantly on his arm.

  “Are you acquainted with Warwick?” he asked suddenly.

  “Your assistant? Oh no, he resigned, did he not? Linton told me. We don’t know him very well, if you mean socially. Why?” She looked up, nothing but mild curiosity in her dark eyes.

  Belmont shook his head. “Just wondering.”

  For across the room, David Warwick sprang to his feet to greet the stooped figure of Lord Linton as if he were a long-lost friend.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lord Linton? Riki watched from her seat at Lady Prudence’s side as David greeted Belmont’s brother-in-law with untrammeled delight.

  Somewhat embarrassed, Linton drew back. Then with a visible effort, he recovered. “I understand you’ve resigned from the War Office.” Linton shook his head. “Sad business that. You’ll be missed.”

  “You’ll miss our card games, you mean.” David chuckled. “So will I, for that matter. You play a devilish fine game of piquet.”

  “As do you, much to my dismay upon many an occasion.” Linton smiled in response and the indefinite sadness seemed to lift from his brow. “This was rather sudden, was it not? You had spoken no word of this to me.”

  David grinned. “You might say it hit me by storm. Miss van Hamel brought news from my family. I must return to America as soon as she is finished with her work here.”

  “I might—” Linton broke off as his wife approached. With a hurried excuse to David, he disappeared rapidly in the opposite direction. On the other side of the room, Sylvester caught him, and with elbows linked, the two gentlemen headed by a slightly circuitous route for the card room.

  Belmont came to a halt, watching them with frowning intensity. Clarissa stood rigid for a moment then turned with an artificial laugh to greet a friend.

  Riki shivered. All they needed now would be for Sir Julian to join Sylvester and Linton and the three of them stand in a corner whispering. With Marie Marley, of course.

  Still, she would like to know what was going through Belmont’s mind at this moment. She excused herself to Lady Prue and took an impulsive step toward him…then turned away. She’d better wait until they returned to the house. They seemed to argue as much as discuss things these days, and a musical soiree was hardly the place to start a fight with a man.

  Not far from her, Marie beckoned David and he returned with alacrity to his usual place at her side. Riki watched them closely, searching for something to convince her that the seeming affection on Marie’s side was feigned. But her observations only left her with the sinking feeling that the attachment was very real indeed.

  There could be no mistaking the strength of the infatuation on David’s side. In that, of course, lay the most likely point of treason. How could he help but want her to share in his delights? If she played the devoted listener, David would ramble on ad nauseam and in all innocence about his hobby.

  But to whom did she pass the information? She must have a contact. Riki chewed her lower lip, frustrated. Neither Linton nor Sylvester had done more than glance at Mrs. Marley, as they might at any lovely young woman.

  What about Sir Julian? She hadn’t seen him this evening, but that might mean he was in a drawing room she hadn’t yet entered. She set off in search.

  She found him at last, standing by the pianoforte, turning pages of a musical score for a particularly fetching young thing in a gown of gauze so fine as to embarrass Riki. It seemed to please Sir Julian very well, though, for it was on this and not on the music that his eye rested. Riki sauntered up and leaned on the instrument, watching with what she hoped was an expression of rapt admiration.

  “That was lovely,” she sighed as the performance drew to a close. “I didn’t realize you were a devotee of music, Sir Julian.”

  “I am a lover of everything beautiful.” He awarded her the slightest bow. “Would you care to stroll about the rooms?” He took his leave of the musician and offered his arm to Riki.

  “I wanted to thank you again for escorting me to the museum. I had a delightful afternoon.” At least she would have if she’d felt easier in his company.

  His gaze rested on her, an unreadable expression in the depths of his hazel eyes. “You must permit me to be your guide on other expeditions about London. Would you care to see the Tower?”

  “Very much. But I did not think a fashionable gentleman would care for such vulgar pastimes as sightseeing.”

  “Not vulgar, merely tedious,” he corrected. “Unless the company makes the effort worthwhile.”

  She held her tongue and pretended to look down in pretty confusion at his compliment. It wasn’t a liking for her company that prompted his invitation, though. He didn’t seem to trust her any more than she trusted him. Obviously he intended to discover as much as he could about her.

  And that reminded her of her own purpose. She directed their steps into the other room, where David and Marie still sat close together. As they passed through the doorway, Marie looked up and a flicker of recognition—or acknowledgment—crossed her face as her gaze rested on Sir Julian. Quickly she looked back to David.

  They know each other, all right, Riki thought triumphantly, and she doesn’t want to own up to it. Sir Julian must be her contact. That would settle everything so beautifully. She didn’t like Sir Julian, and he was a far better villain than either Sylvester or Linton.

  She would keep a close eye on him this evening and see if he tried to speak privately with the beautiful Mrs. Marley. That seductive air the woman cultivated would provide her with an excellent excuse for slipping off with a man for supposed dalliance. Then perhaps Belmont would listen to her about David’s innocence. If her cousin were the traitor, he would have no need of the likes of Marie Marley to act as a go-between.

  The musical portion of the evening did not prove
enjoyable for Riki. Lady Prudence demanded her attendance, holding court with Riki displayed at her side like a prize, talking throughout the singing and playing in an overly loud voice. Though Riki tried to keep either Mrs. Marley or Sir Julian in sight at all times, craning her neck to catch glimpses of them drew unwanted attention to herself and she was forced to subside.

  At the beginning of the first interval, Felicity slipped off with a group of young friends and stood giggling in a corner until the resumption of the music forced her to return to her seat. Lord Linton, she noted with a touch of amusement, stood with a group of people loudly decried by Lady Prue as the most boring members of the government she had ever had the misfortune to see gathered together under one roof. Belmont divided his time between Sylvester and Sir Julian. Riki felt unaccountably irritated with him.

  The evening dragged on but at last the program drew to a close. They sent for their wraps and Lady Prue paused just inside the drawing room doorway and looked back toward where David and Mrs. Marley stood close together in earnest conversation.

  “Been sitting in his pocket all evening,” she announced in tones calculated to draw the notice of everyone standing near. “Shouldn’t be surprised if there was to be an interesting announcement in the near future.”

  The couple looked up and becoming color crept into Marie Marley’s cheeks.

  “You’re embarrassing them, Mother—as if you didn’t know.” Belmont strolled up behind them. “I believe the carriage has arrived.” Firmly, he escorted them out.

  Riki waited in seething impatience until the carriage at last pulled up before Belmont House. Belmont jumped to the street and let the step down, then assisted his mother and sister to climb out. Riki came last, and the firm pressure of her fingers as they gripped his carried their own message. He allowed his family to go on ahead.

  “What did you wish to say?” he murmured as they followed the others up the stairs.

  “Quite a bit, actually.”

  “My bookroom then, I believe.” He nodded to Newly, who admitted them to the house then led the way down the hall.