A Season of Romance Page 7

  ‘I will inform Mrs Fleming,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘Has Lord Ripon attempted to gain entry to this house, Talbot?’ she asked, frowning.

  ‘He did put in an appearance shortly after we received word of the master’s death. He seemed to think that the property was now his, although he must have been aware that it was not, since the master’s will had already been read.’ Talbot stiffened an already upright posture and gave a derisive sniff. ‘I do not know what he hoped to gain by attempting to burst in here, but he was not permitted to put a foot over the threshold. The master had given me precise orders in that regard when I last saw him. Neither his brother, nor his brother’s wife and son were to be permitted entry under any circumstances.’

  Talbot’s surprising disclosure only increased Adela’s curiosity regarding the nature of her father’s dispute with his brother. A disagreement which had never been resolved and was never spoken about, but for which Papa seemed to have held his nephew partially responsible. Daniel had only been eighteen when Papa left England. Old enough to have got into mischief, Adela reasoned. Old enough to have taken his father’s side in the dispute between the brothers, too. He would believe whatever his father told him. That would be natural enough, so Adela was surprised that her father had held Daniel’s familial loyalty against him.

  It made no sense.

  ‘I am not at all happy to have to welcome them here either, Talbot, but Lady Gantz issued the invitation and I can hardly rescind it. We shall just have to extend every courtesy and make the best of it.’

  Talbot inclined his head. ‘As you say, my lady.’

  Furious with Daniel for chasing after her so soon, Adela walked up the sweeping staircase, trying not to wish that Lord Bairstow had been the one to send her flowers. Definitely wishing that she could tell Daniel to make his own living arrangements. It had been a mistake to remain in Ripon for so long, but Daniel’s mother had made a point of befriending Mama and encouraged her to prolong her stay. Adela wondered now if it had been a deliberate ploy on her aunt’s part to develop Adela’s dependency upon Daniel. She snorted, thinking her aunt had grossly underestimated Adela’s forthright character if she had supposed that stratagem would work.

  Their imminent arrival in the capital implied that she had not given up.

  Adela entered her room in a disgruntled frame of mind, untying her bonnet as she went, and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw her father’s familiar battered old trunk on a locker at the end of her bed. She’d known it would be there, but she was still overwhelmed with emotion and swallowed back tears the moment her gaze fell upon it.

  ‘This really will not do,’ she told herself. She threw her bonnet on the bed, blew her nose and then took off her pelisse.

  The trunk was still locked and did not appear to have been tampered with. She had the key and would unlock it momentarily. But first she went in search of her mother. She would prefer to look through her father’s things without interruption, and if she did not make a point of wishing her good morning, Mama would worry and come in search of her.

  She found her mother seated at her escritoire, industriously scribbling away.

  ‘Good morning, Mama.’ Adela bent to kiss her mother’s brow.

  ‘Ah, there you are, my dear. I was asking for you but I was told you had gone out.’

  ‘Bess and I went for a walk in the park. It’s a lovely day. We admired the flowers and the ducks.’ She looked over her mother’s shoulder. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Sending out cards for our soiree, of course.’

  ‘Already?’ Adela flexed a brow. ‘I was not aware that we had even decided upon a date.’

  ‘It will be in two nights’ time. It’s all settled.’

  Adela raised a brow. ‘So soon?’

  ‘You were quite a sensation last night. I want to be sure that everyone who’s anyone gets the earliest possible glimpse of you. Since your poor papa is no longer with us, gentlemen cannot call and renew their acquaintance with him in the usual way, which makes it harder for you and me to be reaccepted.’

  ‘It does?’ Adela probably looked as perplexed as she felt. ‘Since you are acquainted with most of the leading matrons, I don’t think we need to worry about being ignored. Think of all those invitations on the mantle downstairs.’

  ‘Well yes, I have not been forgotten by my friends. It is most gratifying. People are so very kind.’ Mama patted her hair, knocking her cap askew. ‘Even so, I must exert myself on your behalf. I would be failing in my duty as a mother if I did not do everything in my power to ensure that you are seen and admired.’

  Adela somehow resisted the urge to roll her eyes. There was only one thing about her that eligible gentlemen would find admirable. And as to the arrangements all having been settled, Mama would not have thought beyond sending out cards or realise that she was making a great deal of additional work for their servants. Sighing, Adela know her father’s trunk would have to wait a little longer. First, she must go in search of Mrs Fleming and give their housekeeper the necessary instructions.

  ‘Don’t invite too many people, Mama. The house is not that big.’

  ‘Nonsense, child. These things are not considered successful unless they are the most uncomfortable squash.’

  ‘Well, I expect you know best.’

  ‘Do you imagine that Lord Bairstow will agree to put in an appearance? I expect he gets invited everywhere. Well, I know that he does, but his aunt says that he is not terribly sociable and hardly ever accepts invitations. But I shall send him a card.’

  That wouldn’t be such a bad thing, Adela decided after a moment’s reflection. She was perfectly sure that he would attend, but not for the reasons that her mother hoped. She would search through the trunk and her father’s library before then. If she found anything likely to be of interest to him it would be a great deal easier to pass it over in person. In which case, a crowded room would work to her advantage.

  ‘I will leave you to your writing,’ Adela said.

  ‘Very well, dear, but don’t go wandering off again. I dare say we shall have callers and we both need to be here to receive them.’

  Adela assured her mother that she had no plans to leave the house again. She slipped back down the stairs and consulted with Mrs Fleming. As Adela had supposed, this was the first she had heard of a soiree. She took the news in her stride and promised that the necessary arrangements would be put in hand.

  ‘Engage as much additional help as you consider necessary,’ Adela said. ‘I am sorry this is being sprung upon you, Mrs Fleming. I am not looking forward to it any more than you are.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, your ladyship. I dare say we shall manage. It’s been too long since the rooms of this house were filled with guests.’ She smiled. ‘It will be like old times.’

  ‘Let’s hope so.’

  Having discharged her obligations, Adela returned to her room. She sat for some minutes staring at her father’s trunk, then retrieved the key from her dresser and cautiously turned it in the lock. It clicked upon, leaving Adela with no further excuses to procrastinate. She unfastened the straps and pushed the lid up. A familiar masculine scent assailed her nostrils, bringing tears to her eyes that she dashed aside with the back of her hand. She had packed her father’s things in this trunk herself whenever they moved from place to place. It was a particular task that she insisted upon carrying out personally.

  She had not done the packing for the trunk’s final trip. His batman had managed things. Everything had been folded with military precision and only smelled the slightest bit musty. She removed the clothing and laid it aside. All the papers were at the bottom and appeared to have remained undisturbed. None of them were official military documents. Presumably, Blake had separated those out and returned them to the regiment’s adjutant.

  There was, however, a plethora of personal correspondence dating back over a decade. It was difficult to know where to begin. She recognised a bundle of letters written in
her cousin’s spidery hand, and she looked at those first. Daniel’s father had died two years after Adela’s family left England, at which point Daniel appeared to have made repeated offers to take over management of the estate in Papa’s absence. Adela didn’t know how Papa responded but could guess from the increasingly belligerent tone of Daniel’s replies. He all but accused Papa of deliberately allowing the estate to fall into disrepair. She smiled, deducing from one of Daniel’s responses that Papa had invited him to invest his own blunt if he was so keen to see it put to rights.

  Their correspondence came to an abrupt end at that point, just over a year before Papa’s death. She wondered now if his death was nothing to do with the traitor he had been about to expose, but had come about at the hand of a man far closer to home. Daniel had appeared from time to time during the course of the conflict with Napoleon. Not wearing a red coat, of course. Instead, he traded in horses, selling them to officers at inflated prices. He had made a profit from the war, as so many did, selling anything from candlewax to smuggled gin.

  Adela put her cousin’s correspondence to one side. She would think about it later. For now, she delved deeper into the trunk. One pile of letters especially took her interest.

  ‘Captain Snelling,’ she said, tapping his letter against her hand. ‘I remember him.’

  He had been Papa’s adjutant for several years, and the two men had enjoyed a good understanding. Her father had described the young captain as a man of impeccable character, with great good sense and a soldier’s brain. He had resigned his commission once Napoleon was sent to Elba, but it appeared that he and Papa had corresponded regularly since then.

  She wondered where the captain was now and whether she should contact him. She recalled him and her father sitting in Papa’s strategy room, drinking long into the night and possibly exchanging confidences. Perhaps he would know something about the dispute between the brothers. It was worth considering.

  Bess slipping quietly into the room disturbed Adela’s thoughts.

  ‘Begging your pardon, my lady, but Lady Gantz is downstairs and asking for you.’

  ‘Very well, Bess. Tell her that I will be there directly.’ She pointed to her father’s clothing. ‘Have these things put away neatly in the attic.’ She gathered up the papers—those she had read and those she had not—and locked them in her escritoire.

  ‘Shall I have the trunk put upstairs, too?’

  Adela was about to agree, but something made her hesitate. ‘No, leave it where it is for now.’ She closed the lid. ‘I will tell you when I have finished with it. Now, tidy my hair, if you please.’

  She wiped her dusty hands but decided against changing her gown. She wasn’t attempting to impress anyone. Quite the reverse. All the social obligations that her mother considered so vital were interfering with her ability to address more serious matters.

  *

  Ezra returned to his town house in Grosvenor Street and was admitted to the establishment by his long-serving butler, Minton. Ezra had borrowed him from his father’s establishment years ago and forgotten to return him.

  ‘Any messages?’ he asked, removing his hat and gloves and handing them to Minton.

  ‘Mr Gaunt is here, my lord.’

  Ezra rolled his eyes. ‘Give me a minute, then show him into the library.’

  Ezra stood in front of the fire in the library in question, hands clasped behind his back, mulling over his recent meeting with Lady Adela. He enjoyed her lively company, admired her courage and was determined to keep her safe. He was unsure if she realised quite how vulnerable she actually was, but sensed it would be futile attempting to convince her. She had admitted to possessing an impulsive character and he was sure she would conduct herself as she saw fit, whatever warnings he issued.

  ‘Mr Gaunt, my lord.’

  Ezra turned and offered Gaunt his hand. ‘I cannot begin to imagine what brings you here,’ he said in an indolent manner. ‘Bring refreshment, Minton.’

  ‘Don’t bother. I can’t stay long. I have been waiting a while.’ Ezra indicated one of the chairs in front of the fire and motioned Minton away. He refused to apologise for keeping Gaunt waiting when he had not invited him to call. ‘Since when did you take to going out so early in the morning? I was convinced I would find you at home.’

  ‘Well, now you have. So, what can I do for you?’ As if I didn’t know.

  ‘Lady Adela.’

  Ezra shook his head. ‘Give me a chance!’

  ‘I hear she was in attendance at your aunt’s dinner party last night. I wondered what you made of her, so I came to get a first-hand account.’

  Ezra frowned. ‘It’s not like you to panic. What are you not telling me?’

  Gaunt spread his hands. ‘You know as much as I do. But I am under considerable and growing pressure to discover the identity of the traitor.’

  ‘A traitor who is at the heart of the government and will be aware of your remit. So you are transferring the pressure to Lady Adela’s slender shoulders. That’s hardly fair, Gaunt.’

  ‘Calm yourself. No one other than you and I know that Gantz had proof.’

  ‘Rubbish! Even if we can’t prove it we both know he was poisoned because of that proof.’ Ezra paused. ‘Lady Adela tells me their lodgings were ransacked just before his poisoning, but her father assured her nothing had been taken.’

  Gaunt raised a bushy brow. ‘You have not been idle.’

  ‘I just met with Lady Adela in the park.’

  This time Gaunt looked completely shocked. ‘Careful! If you were seen alone with her, you’ll be obliged to marry her.’

  Ezra gave an impatient shake of his head, not bothering to tell Gaunt that he didn’t find the prospect that unappealing. He had to marry someone sooner or later. His father was getting increasingly irritated by his procrastination and was threatening to make the choice for him if he left it much longer.

  As the only son of an aging duke, Ezra could understand his father’s point of view. He did have a duty to procreate and ensure the future of the duchy. But it hadn’t once occurred to him that he would have any feelings for the lady he eventually chose, or much in the way of common interests with her beyond their both being born into good families. Compatibility wasn’t considered important in his social class. But images of him and Adela Gantz seated beside a roaring fire on a cold night, having lively discussions about world affairs—and affairs closer to home—made him smile. As did the prospect of getting his hands on that enticing body and…Enough!

  ‘Do you want my help or not?’ he asked acerbically.

  ‘Certainly I do. Tell me everything.’

  Ezra did so, explaining about the trunk and the break-in that Lady Adela’s solicitor had suffered. ‘It leads me to suppose that proof of the traitor’s identity still exists, and that Lady Adela and her mother will be at risk until it’s found. She has said that I can look at any papers she thinks significant, but I don’t suppose the proof in question will be that obvious.’

  ‘We have to have it!’

  ‘I am well aware of that. With respect, I suggest you toddle off and let me deal with this in my own way. I have gained Lady Adela’s trust and have taken it upon myself to ensure her safety.’ Ezra stood and rang the bell. ‘I will contact you the moment I have something for you, but I will not put Lady Adela at risk in order to procure it.’

  ‘It seems to me that her life will be in permanent danger until it’s found.’ Gaunt stood. ‘Just be careful. You’re not invincible, you know, and your father will have something to say on the matter if you get yourself killed in my service.’

  ‘Your concern is touching,’ Ezra replied in a wry tone.

  The moment Gaunt had been shown out, Ezra strode out into his mews in search of Harker. He found him strapping the quarters of the pretty grey Arabian that Ezra intended for Lady Adela.

  ‘She looks well,’ Ezra said, standing back with Harker to admire his handiwork.

  ‘Aye, but looks can be deceiving.
She damned near takes a lump out of my arm every time I get anywhere near her teeth and amuses herself by swinging her backside around, trying to knock me over.’ Harker grunted good-naturedly. ‘Well, that’s women for you. Contrary beasts, not to be trusted.’

  ‘You know where to take her.’

  ‘What’s the young woman done to you that you’d inflict this hellion on her?’

  ‘I’ll wager five guineas that Lady Adela can control her.’ Ezra didn’t know how he could be so sure, but somehow felt convinced that she would prove to be a very proficient horsewoman. All the mare needed was someone who wouldn’t put up with her tantrums and make her aware who was boss.

  ‘Well, since I’m supposed to look after the chit, I can hardly accept your wager iffing it means I hope she comes a cropper.’

  Ezra chuckled. ‘Well, there is that. Anyway, Lady Adela is engaging your services as a groom. Keep your eyes and ears open and don’t let her set foot outside that house without you in attendance.’

  Harker, who had been in Ezra’s service for years and was one of the few men who got away with speaking to him as an equal, raised one brow. ‘Comely lass, is she?’

  ‘Her appearance doesn’t signify. What matters is that she could well be the key to discovering the identity to one of the most devious spies ever to work against British interests. And that means that she will be in permanent danger until we can unearth that proof.’

  *

  Adela was a little overwhelmed when she got downstairs and saw that the salver in the hallway bearing the cards of visitors was already full to overflowing. She heard the drone of conversation coming from the drawing room, which turned out to be mostly filled with people Adela had never met before. Her suitors from the previous evening were there, and attempted to monopolize her the moment she stepped into the room. She remained civil but refused to allow them to corner her. It was with some considerable relief that she watched them eventually take their leave, having dragged out their visit well beyond the acceptable half-hour maximum.