by C. J. Archer
“Ah. Yes.” He sat down. “I am ready to wed Catherine.”
“I see.” Lady Warhurst nodded slowly.
“So you want me to open negotiations?”
“I thought you already had.”
She stood and came to sit beside him. “I was going to, but Robert and Lilly suggested I wait.”
“Wait? What for?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Mother, you shouldn’t have waited. The matter is urgent now.”
“Why?”
“Because…because it just is. I need to be married. The sooner the better. And what the bloody hell are my siblings doing poking their noses in my business when it’s not wanted?”
“They’re concerned about you.”
“I find that hard to believe in Blake’s case.”
“He does care about you. We all do.” She patted his hand. “I will send the letter if that’s what you want. However…is it what you really want?”
“Of course it is! Mother, what has got into you? Don’t tell me you’re turning into a sentimental fool too. I thought you at least were the sensible one.”
“I will thank you not to imply that my other children are not as sensible as you. Indeed, I think they are more so. They see things remarkably clearly at times.”
“Unlikely,” he muttered. “Especially these days. Nor do I want to hear what they had to say on the matter of my pursuit of Catherine.”
“I will tell you anyway.”
Leo groaned. He felt like he was running through a ravine with a large boulder hurtling after him. His mother was unstoppable. “After Alice Croft stayed here that night, I asked Lilly about her.”
A fist closed around his heart and squeezed. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
“That’s unfortunate because I do.” She laid her hand over his, not forcing him to stay but certainly making it clear she did not want him to leave. It would seem he would have to listen or offend her. Very well, it would be a good test. If he could get through this discussion, he could forge ahead with the marriage to Catherine. “I could see there was something between you,” Lady Warhurst said. “I admit I wasn’t…enthusiastic at first. She’s not the sort of girl I expected to catch your interest, but clearly she has. Lilly confirmed it. She said she liked her, that she was clever and capable and precisely the sort of woman you needed.”
Needed? Alice? But he needed a woman of high birth with a lot of money. He could understand his sister might be going a little mad thanks to her troubles with Hawkesbury and the baby, but his mother too? She had no such excuse. “You’re wrong, Mother. All of you. Alice is the daughter of a tiring house manager. Do you really think such a union would be suitable?”
His mother didn’t answer for some time. “If you care for her—”
“I don’t!” He closed his eyes but that was a mistake because it brought Alice’s face to mind. The way she’d looked when he said good-bye. When she’d cried it felt like he’d snuffed out the brightest candle and plunged the world into darkness. Her tears had almost been the undoing of him then. He lowered his head into his hands and breathed deeply until the wretchedness passed. But it didn’t, not entirely.
“I had to do it,” he muttered.
“Do what, Son?” his mother asked quietly.
“Had to put my duty first.” He’d spent his life trying not to be like his father, to do precisely the opposite of everything he’d ever done, yet he’d almost repeated his father’s most monumental failure and put a woman before the title. Leo had lived with the consequences of that scandal all his life; it dogged his every move. He would not let another scandal ruin everything just when he had the opportunity to build something worthwhile for future generations of Warhursts. If anyone at court found out he was enamored of a mere seamstress, they would quickly liken him to his father and just as quickly dismiss any thoughts of loaning him the money he needed for the mines. They would not risk another Warhurst giving their capital away to the sort of woman who made their doublets.
And if the Finchbrookes heard about Alice, he might lose more than potential loans. He might lose the only gentlewoman in England who’d have him.
“Your duty?” his mother echoed. “What—?” A loud knock on the door interrupted her. It swung open before she could tell the person to enter and Blake strode in, a mixture of horror, anger, and desperation on his face.
“It’s Hawkesbury,” Blake said. “He’s been arrested and thrown in the Tower.”
“What?” both Leo and his mother said together.
Blake told them how Walsingham’s men had arrested Hawkesbury for treason. He’d been taken by boat from his house to the infamous Traitor’s Gate at the Tower where those accused of treason went.
“On what grounds?” Leo asked. But he knew. The letter. Someone had decided to break their silence now that the missive was no longer in Enderby’s possession. His money was on Enderby himself, trying to save his own neck while he still could.
“We can still stop this,” Leo said. “I have the only evidence of Lord Hawkesbury’s father’s treason.” He told Blake what he’d already told his mother.
“They’ll be looking into the case now,” Blake said. “If they can’t find any evidence then he might be released.”
Might being the most important word in that sentence. Everyone knew the queen and her chief adviser could do as they pleased for as long as they pleased. If they thought Hawkesbury was a serious threat then they would keep him in the Tower and find new evidence.
“Her Majesty likes Lord Hawkesbury,” Lady Warhurst said, twisting her fingers together in front of her. “I cannot imagine she’d detain him for long.” She glanced from Leo to Blake then back again. Looking for confirmation? She didn’t get it.
“We have to get him released as quickly as possible,” Blake said, removing his hat and wiping his brow. “Lilly will be devastated when she finds out, and her health is delicate enough as it is.”
“We won’t tell her unless it becomes necessary,” Lady Warhurst said.
“I’ll speak to Enderby,” Leo said. “He needs to be made aware that his own freedom rests with me.”
“I’m coming,” Blake said.
Leo let him. Blake was the only person he wanted at his back in this kind of situation. There was none better.
He and Blake left the withdrawing room for the stables.
“Let me do all the talking,” Leo said as they rode as fast they could across the city. It was too busy with midday traffic to do more than a swift walking pace, and Leo had to grind back his frustration. Blake looked far more composed. No doubt he saw this as yet another adventure.
Then Leo remembered his brother’s face as he’d told them the news of Hawkesbury’s arrest and knew it was not an adventure he’d invited.
“You talk, I’ll slice his head off with my sword,” Blake said. So much for composed.
“That’ll achieve a lot.”
“It’ll make me feel better.”
“This is about making Lilly feel better, not you. She’s my sister too.”
Blake grunted. “Nice to see Alice Croft has brought you to your senses.”
Leo swiveled to look at his brother. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped.
“It means you’ve not only called Lilly your sister instead of half sister, but you’ve finally realized this endeavor is about her well-being and not your reputation.”
Leo shook his head. He should disagree with his brother but he didn’t have the heart for it. Not after the mention of Alice. Thinking about her made everything hurt. So best not to think about her. “Promise me you’ll keep your sword sheathed and your fists at your sides, and let me do the talking.”
Blake humphed and urged his horse ahead. Leo had to wait for a cart with a dozen children and just as many chickens riding on the back to pass before he could join his brother. But Blake was waving at someone up ahead.
“Lo! Mistress Croft!”
Alice? Bloody hell. She stood on th
e side of the road, a stoic, pale figure with the cloak tied tightly at her throat. She nodded at Blake when he approached and shot a glance at Leo. He hung back. From where he was he could not quite make out her eyes. It was safer not to see the misery he’d put in them. Safer to stay far away from her. He should move on and make Blake catch up.
Yet he could not.
He watched as they spoke. At one point her hand clapped over her mouth. Blake talked some more then he waved at Alice and she left. She did not spare another glance at Leo.
Blake returned, frowning. “What did you say to upset her?”
Leo cleared his throat but it didn’t dislodge the lump. “Who said I upset her?”
“Don’t play the fool with me. Alice is a good woman and you should’ve taken more care.”
A tide of emotions swelled within him and he had to breathe deeply until it eased and he could speak again without his voice shaking. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You will, Brother. Later.”
Neither spoke for the remainder of the journey.
CHAPTER 22
It had taken every ounce of Alice’s will not to turn back and look at Leo sitting there on his horse. Walking away without speaking to him hurt like the devil and went against every instinct that screamed at her to go to him, reason with him. But she was proud of herself for ignoring those instincts. Proud and miserable. He had not changed his mind or he would have come to her, and she would not make a fool of herself over him.
She was glad when she arrived at Grayshaw’s house because it meant she could apply her mind to another task— Hawkesbury’s arrest. She was relieved to find him at home. She’d thought he’d be with Walsingham, doing whatever it was clerks did, but he must have returned home for his midday dinner.
“Alice, my dear, so pleased to—”
“Enough, Charles. No more sweet words from you.” They stood in his study, which she’d realized after changing in the empty sitting room earlier that day was the only room furnished to receive guests. “I think you know why I’m here.”
“Ah.” At least he didn’t try to pretend otherwise. “Your guard dog not with you?”
“Lord Warhurst is busy elsewhere.” Busy barking up the wrong tree. As soon as Blake had told her about Hawkesbury’s arrest, Alice had guessed it was Charles who’d alerted Walsingham to the existence of the treasonous letter. Enderby had too much to lose by admitting he’d withheld it. Charles, on the other hand, had a career to forge, and what better way to do that than make himself useful to the queen’s spymaster? “You have to tell your employers that you made a mistake and the letter doesn’t implicate any Hawkesbury, living or dead.”
“Alice, I adore you, I really do, but you’re a naive girl if you think I’ll do that.”
She suddenly needed to sit and plopped down on the chair opposite him. He sat too and leaned his elbows on the desk. It was piled with papers and she could just manage to read what he’d written on the topmost one. It was a letter addressed to Sir Francis Walsingham, requesting an audience to discuss him returning to his employment.
Returning? Oh. Good. Lord.
“You no longer work for the Crown, do you? That’s why you’re here in the middle of the day and not with Walsingham.” Charles’s gaze shifted. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” he said.
“Were you caught reading Hawkesbury’s file?”
He sighed and leaned back in the chair. “I was caught, yes, but not with Hawkesbury’s file. Since I was already inside the storeroom, I took the opportunity to…check some other files.”
“Why were you doing that?”
“I don’t wish to discuss this with you, Alice.”
“You were going to blackmail some other prominent families, weren’t you? Like Enderby did. Hawkesbury’s situation gave you an idea, didn’t it?”
He crossed his arms and gave her a defiant stare. The nasty, devious toad! Why had it taken her so long to see through the flattery?
“Now, if there’s nothing else,” he said, “I’m going to respectfully ask that you leave.”
“And I’m going to disrespectfully tell you I’m staying until you agree to inform Walsingham you were wrong.”
“Alice. Pretty, foolish Alice with stars in her eyes.” He laughed and shook his head. “Do you know Warhurst is penniless? He hasn’t got a cent to his name, his house is a crumbling ruin, and his estate is a patch of barren land in the middle of nowhere.”
“You already told me that. What’s your point, Charles?” She knew she shouldn’t nibble at the bait he was dangling but she couldn’t help it.
“I also told you about his father’s history, didn’t I? How he left his highborn wife for his lowborn mistress.”
She tilted her chin. “So?”
He snorted. “So why are you helping him to make the same mistake his father did?”
She should have told him she was no longer Leo’s mistress but she owed Charles nothing, and part of her wanted to hear what he had to say. Perhaps if she could learn more about Leo, she could come to terms with his decision.
“Do you know what will be said about him when your relationship is made public? He’ll be ridiculed at court. Do you know how vicious those people are to each other? They’re like savage dogs. The scent of scandal drives them into a frenzy. But it’ll be worse for Leo. He hasn’t been allowed to forget what his father did thirty years ago. Many of them are still angry that they were made to look foolish, and these are the same people who think the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Alice’s throat thickened. It hurt to swallow. “He doesn’t care about court gossip. If you knew him at all you would know that.”
“Ah, yes.” He rested his elbows on the chair’s armrests and steepled his fingers. He pointed them at her. “True. But do you know that court gossip will stop anyone from even contemplating investing in his mines? Not a single man will want to be associated with someone who’s proving to be so like his wastrel father. They wouldn’t risk it.”
“Of course I know,” she snapped. “Charles, I’m not here—”
“Do you know,” he said loudly, “that no money for mines means his tenants will starve. They can’t farm the land anymore, it’s too barren, and there’s no employment for them in the villages up there.”
“No employment?” she said weakly.
“Nothing. Many country folk have moved to London or other centers but find they don’t have the skills to get good work. They’re no better off here than they were there.”
“Oh.” Those poor people. Charles may have been many things but he wouldn’t lie about hardship on such a scale. He’d known desperation when he was orphaned and wouldn’t treat the subject lightly.
How could she have been so selfish to not see the whole picture? She’d been so wrapped up in her own drama that she’d failed to consider the people who relied upon Leo. People who needed him more than she did. It was the explanation she’d needed. It helped eased the pain, but only a little. He regarded her with amusement, as if he were speaking to a favorite child. “But Warhurst’s worst nightmare isn’t destroying the lives of his tenants, or hearing the slurs against his name. His greatest fear is that he’ll become like his father.”
She stood, suddenly desperate for air. The fire might have been low but the study was stifling with all those papers everywhere and the tart smell of ink. It clawed at her throat, her nose, and made her eyes sting.
“I have to go,” she said, stumbling toward the door.
Charles was at her side, gripping her by the arms. His lips brushed hers and she drew back. His hot breath stank of ale.
“What are you doing?” she said, gasping for air.
“We were good together, Alice,” he murmured. His fingers bit into her arms and she winced at the burning pain. “Remember the fun we had?” His mouth descended on her. She turned her head away and he kissed her cheek instead of her lips.
She gathered all her strength and sho
ved him away. “Enough!” Her breathing came hard and fast but at least her mind was clear now. She understood what she must do. “You and I were a mistake then and we’re a mistake now. Stay away from me.”
Charles wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, never taking his eyes off her. His icy gaze sliced through her. She shivered. “He’ll never marry you,” he snapped.
“I know. But that doesn’t mean I want him to fail.” She cared for Leo, despite everything. That was the problem. She cared too much.
Leo and Blake had to wait for Enderby to return from a ride before they were received in his study. The same study Leo had raided with Alice only the night before to get the letter. The coffer that had contained it still occupied the same spot. It was locked, the key presumably inside the cushion pocket under Enderby’s fat arse.
The steward introduced them then bowed out of the room. Enderby glanced up from his papers, waved at the chairs opposite, then returned to his paperwork. Leo and Blake remained standing.
“Tell Walsingham you made a mistake,” Leo said.
Enderby looked up, frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Blake rested his knuckles on the desk and leaned down. “You got Hawkesbury arrested,” he said, “now get him released.”
Enderby’s pen dripped ink over the page. He didn’t notice. “Lord Hawkesbury has been arrested? Good lord, on what charge?”
“Treason,” Leo said.
“Treason!” Enderby glanced at the locked coffer and paled. His jaw dropped then snapped shut then opened again, like a fish flailing on the dock. “How…?” he whispered.
“Don’t play the fool,” Blake snarled, leaning over the desk.
Enderby backed away and dropped the pen. “I’m not playing anything,” he said, eyeing the rapier strapped to Blake’s hip. Blake never cleaned the end of it so it looked well used. He said it was a ploy to scare off attackers. Leo might have been the only person in the world who knew Blake had only ever killed two men with it, and that had been in self-defense.