Читать книгу The Complete Regency Surrender Collection - Энни Берроуз, Louise Allen - Страница 100

Chapter Twelve

It felt as if she had been asleep for only five minutes when Olivia heard Colette humming. Placing one of her many pillows over her head to muffle the noise, Olivia rolled onto her stomach. There was definite activity in her dressing room with the splashing sound of water being poured into her tub. She would never fall back to sleep now. Tossing the pillow aside, she opened her eyes.

She spied Colette shaking out the dress that she had worn last night and then retreat into her dressing room. Peering over the edge of her bed, she scanned the floor and saw no other evidence of how she had spent the evening.

Her maid re-entered the bedchamber and stopped when she saw Olivia was awake.

‘Why are you humming?’

Bobbing a respectful curtsy, Colette had no luck suppressing her smile. ‘Please forgive me if I woke you. It’s a lovely morning.’

Olivia thought it would be better if she were able to sleep longer. ‘What is the commotion in my dressing room?’

‘His Grace ordered a bath to be ready for you at seven. He said you were not to be disturbed until then.’

Olivia rubbed her brow and stood, allowing Colette to help her into her dressing gown. ‘What about Nicholas? Surely he did not bar Nicholas from entering my room.’

‘I do not believe so. However, His Grace did have breakfast with his lordship in the nursery already. Perhaps that is why he did not wake you today.’

‘The Duke ate in the nursery?’

‘Yes, madam.’

Her world was becoming a very strange place. First her husband appeared to have suddenly grown attracted to her again and now he was eating breakfast with their son.

The heat from the bath water was a balm for the areas of her body that were a bit tender after the vigorous activities of last night. She was not going to think about the thoughtful gesture on Gabriel’s part. She was not going to reminisce about the times after rather spirited nights of love making, when Gabriel had ordered a bath drawn for her in the morning. And she absolutely was not about to consider why he’d left William Cowper’s translation of the Iliad on the table next to her bath.

* * *

Gabriel was in excellent spirits as he made his way to see Prinny at Carlton House. Although he checked on Nicholas each morning, today he’d decided to have breakfast with him. Spending time with his son in the nursery brought back fond memories of when his own father had sat in that very room playing with Gabriel and his three brothers.

Perhaps his house might once again be the very noisy place it had been when Gabriel was a child. The image of playing blind man’s bluff with Olivia in her picture gallery with four or five children dashing about made him smile. There was no reason they needed to stop at two children.

His carriage rocked to a stop under the porte-cochêre of Carlton House and he looked out at the immense Corinthian columns. He needed to shake her from his mind long enough to focus on his duty to protect Prinny. But as he made his way down the hall to Prinny’s private apartment, Gabriel couldn’t help wondering if Olivia was enjoying the bath he had arranged for her. He glanced at his watch and pictured her smooth skin glistening in the water at that very moment.

Once again he arrived as Prinny was sitting down to breakfast, this time in the Gothic Dining Room. The Regent painted a lonely picture, sitting by himself at the enormous table in the long panelled room normally used for dinner parties. As Gabriel crossed the threshold, Prinny motioned with his fork for Gabriel to sit.

‘This marks a change for you,’ Gabriel said, taking the seat to his right. ‘I had not thought you ever took breakfast in this room.’

Prinny swallowed a mouthful of ham and reached for his glass of wine. ‘I never do. But you have me held up in this fortress for a week and I am growing bored of my rooms.’ A bored Prinny was not a good thing. ‘Fill up a plate and join me, Winter.’

‘Thank you, but I have already eaten this morning.’ There was no mistaking the meaning behind the pursed lips of his host. ‘However, I am sure I can find something to tempt me.’

That appeared to appease Prinny, because his mouth curved into a smile for the first time since Gabriel had entered the room. A plate and utensils were laid out before him and he accepted a cup of coffee to be polite rather than quench his thirst. Stirring sugar into his cup, Gabriel tried to find the perfect way to break the news that they were no closer to finding the person who wanted Prinny dead. He decided to be direct.

‘You have said nothing about my new painting,’ Prinny said, motioning with his fork to a painting that hung over the sideboard.

So they would make small talk first. Gabriel took a cursory glance at the painting of people. ‘It’s quite nice.’

Prinny snorted. ‘Quite nice, he says. Quite nice is that cup in your hand. That, my friend, is a stunning example of an Italian master. Part of a collection owned by Boney’s sister, Pauline.’

Gabriel looked back at the painting and then at Prinny, who had shifted his attention back to his breakfast. ‘How in the world did you acquire that?’

‘Olivia.’

‘My Olivia?’ Gabriel choked out, his eyes widening.

Prinny’s hand paused with his glass halfway to his lips. ‘What ho? My Olivia? Careful or you may catch yourself sounding like a man who actually cares for his wife.’

Not up for being baited, Gabriel knew enough to ignore the comment. For years Prinny had admonished him about the state of his marriage with Olivia while he went about ignoring both of his wives and taking a number of mistresses.

How was it that Olivia would know about a painting that belonged to Napoleon’s sister? ‘How did Olivia help you acquire that?’

‘She was approached to authenticate the piece and told me about it. Capital gel, that wife of yours. This is the painting you took me to purchase. In fact, she was originally to accompany me to Mr Owen’s that day, but she needed to be home to personally see to the last-minute arrangements for your boy’s breeching ceremony.’

Olivia would have been in the carriage that day? Ice crept along Gabriel’s veins as he thought how close she had been to lying dead in a pool of blood.

‘I suppose,’ Prinny continued, breaking into his thoughts, ‘I could have postponed the purchase, but I was too eager to see it so I contacted you instead.’

‘I am surprised you did not go on your own.’

‘Olivia said Owen was skittish and the royal carriage would have attracted too much attention in that area.’ He began cutting into his ham and eyed Gabriel’s untouched plate. ‘I imagine you ate something delicious for breakfast. I always enjoy a meal at Winterbourne House. Say...what if I stay with you until you catch the villain trying to do me in?’ His expression held all the excitement of a little boy with a master plan.

‘That’s not an option. We want people to believe you are forgoing all your engagements because you have the gout. If it becomes known there was an attempt on your life, it could provoke others to try to do the same. Have you forgotten that eighteen years ago your father faced two assassination attempts in one day? That second attempt might have been driven by the first. I will not take that chance with you.’

Prinny sucked his teeth, determination shining in his eyes. ‘Well, I could have the gout at your house. That would not be unheard of.’

‘No, you cannot. Have you already forgotten you were shot at riding in my carriage? You are safest here with the Guards protecting you. You also do not even appear to be a man afflicted. I believe people would notice.’

‘Oh, pish!’ he said, waving a fork in the air. ‘Olivia already knows I do not have the gout.’

Gabriel’s heart stopped. ‘How do you know that?’

‘Because she came to call on me.’

‘When? You are not supposed to have any visitors outside the few people we agreed upon. Who else have you seen?’

‘Only Hart and Andrew, but they are on the list. Really, Winter, I realise you do not speak to her, but she is your wife. I assumed you would give your consent and it was safe. More importantly, the dear gel brought me marzipan.’

‘Which you should not have eaten because you have the gout,’ Gabriel said with more force than he should have.

Prinny looked down at his plate and cut into more of his ham while he mumbled something under his breath.

‘You did not eat any of the marzipan in front of Olivia, did you?’

Prinny tossed his fork on his plate. ‘Demmit, man, I rule this country and if I want to eat marzipan, I damn well will eat marzipan!’

Gabriel closed his eyes and pressed his thumb against his brow. He counted to ten. When he opened his eyes he caught Prinny’s pointed stare. How was it possible that this man did not realise the danger he was in? He wanted to chastise him like a child. Instead he took a deep breath and composed his voice.

‘You ate all the marzipan.’

Prinny looked away. ‘I might have.’ Digging into the butter with his knife, he looked back at Gabriel. ‘It is only Olivia. And since she already knows I am not afflicted with the gout, what say you I stay at your house? You can protect me there.’

‘No, and why do you believe she knows you do not have the gout?’

‘Well I did eat all the marzipan, and she told me I appeared to be doing quite well when we went for our...’

‘Your what?’

‘Oh, bloody hell, this is ridiculous. I defeated Napoleon, for God’s sake. I went for a walk. In my garden. With your wife. There, I said it.’

Gabriel pressed his thumb against the bridge of his nose, praying it would prevent his brain from exploding onto the table. ‘Your gardens are adjacent to the park.’

‘You do not have to tell me that. I’m the one who lives here!’

‘And whose idea was it to go for a walk in the garden?’

‘It was Olivia’s. But in all fairness, the gel is unaware of the danger I am in.’

The hairs on the back of Gabriel’s neck rose and he rubbed them through his collar.

‘I cannot look at these walls for another day,’ Prinny continued. ‘You must find whoever is behind this and put their plans to rest. Olivia believes Nettleford will have lobster cakes at his ball next week. Lobster cakes! I have things to attend to and places I need to be. The world is moving and I am standing still.’ He buttered a slice of toast. ‘At least tell me you are closer to finding out who is behind the shooting.’

‘The man who shot you is dead.’

Prinny’s knife clattered to his plate. ‘Dead? How is that possible? He was being held at the Tower. To my knowledge there was no hanging.’

‘He did not face the gallows. Although there was no blood nor sign of a struggle, it appears he was murdered.’

The colour left Prinny’s face and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. ‘Poison.’

‘We believe so.’

Prinny looked down at his food as one would a gutter rat and pushed his plate away.

‘You are safe here,’ Gabriel tried to reassure him. ‘And if that were poisoned, I assure you, you would be dead by now.’

‘Murdered? But how is that possible when he was being held at the Tower?’

‘I am not entirely certain, but I assure you I will find out.’

Prinny drained his wine and motioned for more. ‘You need to find him.’

‘We will. But for the love of all that is holy, do not leave this house, do not see anyone else and trust no one.’

* * *

Gabriel entered his house frustrated they hadn’t yet uncovered who was behind the assassination attempt. There was unrest up north and in the streets of London. Many people were unhappy with Prinny for the cost of his extravagant lifestyle. The threat could have come from anywhere.

He was about to walk into his study and write a note to Andrew when Bennett gave a discreet cough.

‘Lord Hartwick is waiting for you in the Gold Drawing Room, sir.’

‘The Gold Drawing Room?’ Gabriel echoed, reconfirming the location.

‘Yes, sir. I felt it was the safest place to keep his lordship while he waited for you.’

Striding into the room, he found Hart seated at one of the game tables with a row of cards laid out before him. He was just about to lower the Queen of Hearts onto one of the piles when he spied Gabriel.

‘It’s about time. I don’t know how many more rounds of patience I could play before I grew bored enough to begin searching for hidden passageways.’

This was why Bennett was so indispensable. ‘There are no hidden passageways.’ At least none that he wanted Hart to know about.

Hart lowered the card and picked up a glass of what Gabriel assumed was his finest brandy. ‘Bennett would not allow me to wait in your study, which I believe would have been infinitely more interesting than poking about here. By the way, one of your gardeners enjoys taking a nip from the bottle as he prunes your shrubbery. If Her Grace has noticed a lack of blooms recently, it’s because he is cutting them off and disposing of them along with the dead branches.’

‘I take it this is not a social call?’

‘At this hour? While I do enjoy our amusing conversations, you are correct. I have news. You may wish to lock the door.’

By the excited gleam in Hart’s blue eyes, Gabriel knew the news he had uncovered was of no trivial matter. He took his friend’s suggestion and locked the door before he took a seat at the table and waited for him to continue.

‘Have you determined who was providing the information on Prinny’s whereabouts to Mr Clarke?’ Hart asked, tossing his head to the side to shift a lock of hair out of his eyes.

‘I have not.’

‘Well, I have,’ he said through a smug smile.

Gabriel leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. ‘Who is it?’

Hart sat back in the chair and stretched his legs out. ‘I was at Lyonsdale House recently, when Julian mentioned the wedding portrait of his wife had been completed. Always the polite guest, I asked to see it.’

‘I do not understand what this has to do with the gunman.’

Hart leaned forward, their knuckles almost touching, ‘Because the signature on that portrait matched the handwriting on your note.’ He reclined back again and arched an arrogant brow.

‘You are certain?’

‘I wasn’t at first. Something about the signature looked familiar, but then today I realised where I had seen such handwriting before. Are you still in possession of the note?’

Gabriel nodded.

‘Let me see it and I will prove to you I have found your match.’

When Gabriel returned from retrieving it from his study, Hart spread the paper out on the game table.

‘See here the swirled loop of the “m” and the down stroke of the “j”? I tell you, I have found your match.’

Although Hart was known to have an uncanny memory, Gabriel was not completely convinced. However, this was as close to a lead as he had had since the attempt on Prinny’s life. He had to pursue it.

‘Whose signature is it?’

‘A Mr John Manning of Hanover Square.’

Gabriel’s heart dropped to his stomach and the hair on the back of his neck rose. That man spent time with his wife...with his child.

‘You have grown quieter than usual,’ Hart said. ‘What are you not telling me?’

‘The gunman is dead.’

Hart’s previously casual pose was replaced by one of rapt attention. ‘How is that possible? He was under guard.’

Pushing away from the table, Gabriel stood and walked a few paces in agitation. Spinning back around, he ran his hand through his hair. ‘I do not know. You are certain Manning might be involved?’

‘I tell you, that is the man’s hand. If only you had a painting of his, we could...’ Hart’s gaze bore into him as if he could read Gabriel’s thoughts. ‘Your wife is his patron. Surely there is a painting of his here?’

Dear God, this couldn’t be happening, not again. Never discount the obvious. His father had pounded it into his head. The more he considered the facts, the harder it became to steady his breathing. Olivia had arranged the meeting between Prinny and Mr Owen. She told him not to take the royal coach and that she would take him in hers. Her carriage had the Lyonsdale crest on the side, just as his did. Just yesterday she’d persuaded Prinny to go for a walk outside in his garden where anyone in the park beyond would have had an easy shot at him. And he had heard her discuss Prinny with Manning.

He did not believe in coincidences. He knew first hand anything was possible. His past had taught him that—at a great cost. An icy chill ran through his veins.

If she were part of this, she would be tried for treason and swing from the gallows. He tried to scrub the image from his mind, but it would not go away.

‘Winter, did you hear me?’

He could not do this with Hart present. ‘I will search for one of his paintings. With the collection my wife is amassing, surely you can see it will take some time for me to locate his work.’

‘I have solved the informant’s identity before you did and yet you will not look me in the eye. If he is the person who hired Mr Clarke, you will be able to put the mystery of this assassination attempt to rest. The vile criminal will swing.’

And that was what Gabriel was beginning to fear.