Читать книгу The Complete Regency Surrender Collection - Энни Берроуз, Louise Allen - Страница 98

Chapter Ten

Why was everyone riding so slowly down Piccadilly at this hour? Even Gabriel’s horse was pitching forward, trying to poke his nose past all the slow goers. If they did not arrive at the park soon Gabriel feared he would no longer possess any patience at all. In the meantime he continued to scowl at every driver, rider, merchant and pedestrian he saw.

When they finally turned into the park, they steered their horses sedately onto Rotten Row. At this hour, the only people on the bridle path were a few servants exercising horses some distance ahead. Finally, he would get some answers.

‘Tell me what brought you to my door.’

Andrew guided his horse closer to Gabriel’s. ‘You will not be pleased.’

‘Is that meant to soften the blow?’

‘Mr Clarke is dead.’

Gabriel’s blood ran cold as he jerked the reins to hold his ground. ‘Care to explain?’

‘Dead. I think that just about explains it.’

‘I beg to differ. How in the bloody hell is the man dead when he is being hidden away in the Tower under lock and key? No one was to be informed he was there.’

Andrew rubbed his lips together. ‘We were all shocked by the news. He was alive last night when they brought him his food. Hours later they found him dead on the floor.’

‘Poison?’

‘It appears so. We have questioned everyone involved and have no leads. It’s as if some spectre appeared and disappeared just as mysteriously.’

‘Then no one involved in holding him and the interrogations can be trusted. Perhaps this is why they have been unable to uncover any tangible leads. Say nothing of what we suspect and keep me apprised of anything suspicious.’

‘Of course.’

‘From this moment forward, finding out who wants Prinny dead falls solely on our shoulders. We must make certain he is not harmed. I do not know how much longer I can keep him safe inside Carlton House. Each day he becomes more and more restless. He is like a child and I cannot force him to follow my directions. I only wish he were not so trusting.’

Gabriel went to turn Homer around when his brother stopped him.

‘We are not finished,’ Andrew said. ‘I believe there is one more thing that requires discussion.’

What more could they have to discuss?

‘You are honestly not about to acknowledge that ideal family portrait I just witnessed? I believe an explanation is in order.’

Gabriel did not agree. Pulling the brim of his beaver hat low over his forehead, he shaded his eyes from the sunlight filtering through the branches above them. ‘Olivia and I are attempting a reconciliation of sorts.’

‘Of sorts?’

‘Yes.’

When Andrew raised an expectant brow, Gabriel let out a sigh.

‘You did not arrive at my doorstep so early to discuss the state of my marriage.’

‘No, I did not, but after that unusual display, I find myself too intrigued not to. Now why is it normally you barely speak to her, the other night at dinner she was throwing daggers at you with her eyes and today you are kissing her goodbye? And please note, I am not even mentioning the entertaining information which Nicholas kindly provided.’

‘It’s complicated.’

‘Women always are.’

Andrew had no idea. ‘Olivia and I would like to have another child.’

‘Well, it’s about time.’

‘Pardon me?’

‘You know it is best for you to have more boys for the ducal line. Don’t count on any of us to help you fulfil your obligation. Michael broods too much. No woman would ever want to marry him. And by the time Monty is old enough and finds a woman who can ignore his exasperating nature, you will be long dead.’

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Andrew. ‘Skeffington is in his dotage. When he gives up the ghost, I am certain his Duchess would be more than happy to lower herself to marry you. In fact, it would not surprise me if she attempted to pull you behind a tree while he was being lowered into his grave.’

Andrew visibly shuddered. ‘Do not even jest. That woman is becoming more and more difficult to avoid. But we are getting away from our discussion of you and Olivia.’

‘No, that discussion is over. I told you why this morning’s events were a bit unusual.’

‘A bit? I would say the events I witnessed were monumentally unusual.’

Gabriel could feel Andrew studying him and he kept his gaze fixed firmly ahead of them. He’d had a remarkable night with his wife. He did not need Andrew poking him with a stick to make him analyse what it meant.

‘Have you told her that you have always been faithful?’

He knew this would happen. ‘Of course I have not told her.’

‘She is your Duchess.’

‘It is not that simple. I would need to reveal everything to her. Our father never disclosed anything to Mother. To this day she does not know what we do and what responsibility he had. I put my trust in the wrong person once. I will not let it happen again.’

‘Olivia is not Uncle Peter and the situation is vastly different.’

‘Is it? Is it truly different? Tell me how?’

‘She is your wife.’

‘And he was our beloved uncle. A man I looked up to all my life, much as my son does you. I went to him for advice after Father died. I told him what we do, foolishly believing he already knew. When Father said to suspect everyone and trust no one, he was right. My mistake cost Matthew his life. I was the one who felt his life slip away in my arms that night. No amount of rain could have washed his blood from my hands. Every day it eats away at me that I continue to allow his family to believe he was the victim of a robbery that night. Lord Scarbury should have known his youngest was a man of heroic actions who gave his life protecting the Crown. Matthew deserved at least that.’

‘You had me give his widow a substantial amount of your money and say I was settling a gambling debt to help support her and their son. You did all you could do considering the circumstances.’

‘I couldn’t bring him back!’ It was the first time he allowed Andrew to see how deeply he had been affected by the events of that night. If he could help it, it would be the last.

‘You are not the only one to feel the sting of one’s actions where that night is concerned.’

And now he felt even worse. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t mean to imply it had been easy on you.’

The muscle in Andrew’s jaw twitched. ‘I’m glad you realise that.’

They rode in silence towards the path out of the park. Eventually, Andrew cleared his throat. ‘If you explained you never tupped that woman, she would not think you’re a bounder.’

‘And tell her what exactly? She knows I was with Madame LaGrange. Shall I tell her that I was, in fact, with the woman in her brothel while Olivia’s life was in danger bearing our child, but I did not bed her? Then the question becomes what was I doing there? Olivia is an intelligent woman. You cannot give her half-truths. I will not reveal Madame’s secrets. Not now. Not ever.’

All this talk of Olivia had distracted him. He needed to readjust his priorities—quickly. Prinny was in danger and he had no idea from whom.

* * *

Olivia dangled a small basket from her hand as she stood in the Blue Drawing Room of Carlton House and smiled at the man seated before her.

‘You are truly an angel, my dear. Have I mentioned that to you?’ the Prince Regent said, his eyes fixed on her basket.

At times he could be so easy to please. ‘You are only saying that because I brought you marzipan.’

‘That is simply not true. I would have said it if you brought me macarons instead.’ He motioned for her to sit near him as he took the basket she held out and began to sample the sweet confections.

‘I called on you to enquire about your health—however, you appear quite well. Much better than the last time the gout struck,’ she remarked, noticing neither of his feet was bandaged. ‘I am surprised you are not in bed.’

Prinny’s mouth was full and he mumbled something, but it was impossible to distinguish what it was. He shifted on the sofa and studied his next morsel. ‘My physician says I am to stay off my feet. He didn’t say where.’ He gestured with his head towards the tea tray on the table next to them. ‘Why don’t you pour yourself some tea and we can have a nice chat.’

The deep red liquid in the glass that rested on the table caught her attention. Certainly he wouldn’t be drinking port. Not if he had the gout.

She gripped the ebonised wooden handle of the silver teapot and poured the aromatic liquid into a Sèvres cup. She had seen the white Sèvres tea set before with its gilding and its bucolic scene of a young man gazing adoringly at his lover. What she hadn’t seen before was the oval straight-sided silver teapot with the swan-head spout that was engraved with Napoleon’s imperial coat of arms.

‘This is a new acquisition. I’ve lost count of how many items of his you own. Are you determined to collect all of his possessions?’ she asked, placing the teapot back on the tray.

‘That little man thought he could conquer the world—that he could best me. Well, I showed him. I defeated him and now I get to enjoy the things he held dear.’ He popped a piece of marzipan into his mouth.

She narrowed her eyes. ‘You never sent word about the painting. Did you go to purchase it? I hope you did not encounter any trouble.’

There was a hesitation to his movements. ‘It went well. I am deciding where to hang it. I still do not understand why he would not loan it to you so you could show it to me while I decided if I wanted to purchase it.’

‘I imagine he was concerned he would not receive payment and the artwork would remain here.’

He gave a careless snort. ‘Why don’t you tell me what I have been missing?’

‘There is not much to tell. I’ve come from the Royal Academy where Mr West has asked me to assist him in determining the placement of works for the latest exhibition. I hope you will be feeling better by the time it opens. The works are quite moving. And, if you were planning on attending the Nettlefords’ ball, I understand they will be serving lobster cakes. That alone should tempt you enough to leave this house.’

Prinny’s hand stilled over the treats, and he cleared his throat. ‘I hope to be...feeling right as rain by then,’ he mumbled.

Evidently the prince was feeling better, since he was eating the marzipan as if it were his last meal. Perhaps she should have brought him a smaller selection. Eating that many pieces in rapid succession could not be good for one’s digestion.

‘I’m glad you’re enjoying the marzipan.’

Prinny looked down as if he hadn’t realised he had eaten nearly the entire basket and held it out to her. ‘Would you care for one?’

She selected the smallest piece. ‘I assume you will be well enough to attend the opening of Douglas at Drury Lane. They say Mrs Siddons will be returning to the stage.’

Prinny’s smile dropped. ‘I hope so.’

‘Then I look forward to seeing you there. I assume you will not bar me from your box,’ she teased.

He smiled affectionately at her. ‘I would never do such a thing to you.’

‘I have the notion that a small stroll would serve you well, since you did finish that entire basket of marzipan. What say you we take some air in your gardens?’

Prinny’s eyes darted from Olivia, to the guard by the door, and back to Olivia again. ‘I suppose one short stroll outside could do no harm.’