Читать книгу Dangerous Lord, Seductive Mistress - Mary Brendan, Mary Brendan - Страница 8

Coastal Sussex, circa 1828

‘Do I have a choice in the matter?’

‘You can refuse if you wish, my lord,’ Colonel Montague replied stiffly.

The Colonel shifted to evade the glare of a pair of hawk-like eyes. The question directed at him had been uttered with an unnerving softness. If the fellow had bellowed at him, unleashing an anger he sensed was being tightly controlled, he might have preferred it.

Lord Buckland lounged back in the chair before coming abruptly to his feet, his bitter laugh shattering the tense silence that had developed. Having strolled to the window, he propped his tall frame against the crooked timber with a large brown hand. The view, had he chosen to pay attention to it, was quite picturesque. From his vantage point in the Colonel’s office he could admire a quaint harbour scene complete with weatherbeaten old salts preparing fishing boats for sea, all set against a backdrop of mellow, autumnal hues. ‘And what would be the consequence of such a refusal?’ Lord Buckland demanded harshly over a shoulder. ‘Will my mother and sister be ousted from their home and left destitute?’

‘It’s possible the crown might move to reclaim the Buckland estate.’

‘It’s more than damn well possible, and you know it.’ Lord Buckland pivoted about and his amber eyes swooped on the Colonel’s ruddy face. The fellow was embarrassed, and so he should be. A more blatant case of blackmail would be hard to imagine. And he had little choice but to knuckle under to it. ‘The continuing comfort of my family is a very strong bargaining tool as you’re well aware.’

‘Be sensible, sir,’ Gordon Montague said persuasively, as he fiddled a finger between his throat and his collar. ‘Your brother has caused grave problems for you all. You’ve a chance to put things right and in doing so will keep your family’s reputation safe. In addition, you’ve the prospect of earning a magnificent sum.’ The Colonel’s coaxing smile faded, for there was no reciprocal lightening in my lord’s grim, sardonic expression on hearing that a king’s ransom was to be had. He spread his hands appealingly. ‘There’s the matter of your brother’s body, too. Surely you want it properly laid to rest? Sebastian will be given a Christian burial instead of remaining hanging on a gibbet till the crows have done their devilish work. Think of your mother’s feelings and your sister’s. Your father, God rest his soul, would have been desolate to know how things have turned out for you all. He would rely on you to do your utmost to ease their distress and contain a scandal.’

An acerbic smile tugged upwards a corner of Lord Buckland’s thin lips. Inwardly he damned the Colonel to perdition for reminding him of what he couldn’t forget. The duty to his family and the Buckland reputation—what remained of it—must determine his decision and therefore there was only one answer to give to the proposition that had been laid before him. He limited his agreement to a curt nod, simply a tightening of his mouth indicating his resentment at having been backed in to a corner.

‘Do you want these?’

The Colonel opened a drawer in the desk to reveal some documents. ‘There are papers here that might be of considerable use—names…places—’

‘I need nothing,’ Lord Buckland brusquely interrupted. ‘I’ll find my own way.’

‘But…why? These may help.’

‘Who else knows what’s in that little lot?’

‘Only the most loyal and trustworthy individuals.’ Indignation brought ruddy colour in to the Colonel’s cheeks.

‘Tell that to the dragoon who last week had his head caved in on Hastings beach, betrayed, no doubt, by someone who had knowledge of what’s in documents such as those. The soldiers were ambushed.’

The Colonel coughed and loosened his neckcloth at that reminder of the recent injury sustained by an officer on the south coast. He frowned at the tall man lounging back against the window, blocking the light with the athletic breadth of his shoulders. ‘Are you saying you think we have a traitor in our midst?’

‘I’m saying I’ll trust no one, not even you, to protect me in this.’

‘I’ll report back that you’ll do it, shall I?’ The Colonel shoved the papers again out of sight.

‘You may tell his Majesty that I’ll need the wherewithal to get started,’ Lord Buckland bit back. ‘But then he knows I’m desperate for funds, doesn’t he, or he wouldn’t have me squirming beneath his thumb.’

Within a moment Lord Buckland was at the door and had jerked it open. ‘I’m staying at the White Hart in Lowestoft. You can get a message to me there. I’d like to journey south before the end of the week.’