Chapter 17: Chapter 17

ichard nearly groaned. He’d hoped the close call during their search would’ve made Caroline

happy to put the whole situation behind her, including her questions. The way she’d trembled in his arms made her fear evident.

He should’ve known better.

He admired her determination even though he was

frustrated by her persistence. What could he do but tell her as much of the truth as possible?

“You do realize I wasn’t there to steal anything.”

She nodded, waiting for more, the carriage light illuminating half her face with the other remaining in shadows, much like their relationship.

“I must ask you once again to trust me.” “Do you intend to harm the viscount?”

That was difficult to answer. It depended on what Stafford was doing. If he was Le Sournois, then yes, Richard intended to kill him. But he wouldn’t tell Caroline that. “Not without

cause. If he plans to hurt others or England because of his beliefs, I will take action.”

“Surely you can tell me more than that.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. Not at this time.” Perhaps not ever, but he didn’t say that.

She glanced out the carriage window as though

considering her words. “I am doing my best to keep my family out of the notice of the ton. If word of my father’s loss of mental capacity spreads, I fear it would put him out of business as well as harm my sisters’ chances of marrying

well.”

“That is wise.”

“If the actions of my betrothed bring untoward

attention…” Her voice trailed off, leaving him to connect her meaning.

“I will do all I can to make certain that doesn’t happen.” If he ended up killing Wayfair or Stafford, he’d prefer no one knew who’d done it. If he survived that was. Le Sournois had proven his cleverness more times than Richard cared to recall.

“Thank you.” She turned to face him fully, her hand smoothing his lapel. “Whatever you do, you will be careful.”

He was amused she didn’t phrase her request as a question. “Yes.”

She ran her hand up to his neck, sending desire skimming along his skin. “How careful?”

“Very careful.” Hadn’t he been more cautious since Caroline entered his life? But he needed to make sure that caution didn’t jeopardize his mission.

“How careful?” she repeated, leaning closer, pressing a kiss just under his jaw.

All thoughts halted, and his blood fell to other regions of his body. He was tempted to promise her anything. As long as she didn’t stop.

Her fingers tangled in his hair while she kissed along his neck, sending need pulsing through him.

Had she asked a question?

Rather than waste time pondering that, he claimed her mouth, her lips warm against his. When her tongue danced with his, desire burned low in his belly. He cupped her cheek

briefly then lowered his hand to caress her shoulders and arms. She was soft and so sweet.

In that moment, he knew beyond a doubt he wanted to marry this woman. Having her in his life was an unexpected boon he didn’t deserve. Now that he’d discovered how much joy she brought to his life, how could he ever let her go?

He longed to make her his in every sense of the word, but not when the outcome of the next two weeks was so uncertain. Not yet. He would do everything in his power to follow his quest to a successful conclusion then see where this intense

attraction took them.

But none of that mattered now. He only wanted to enjoy the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her. Everything else

could wait until the morrow.

Her moan sent his passion soaring, and he focused on earning another.

Several minutes passed before he realized the carriage had stopped. He drew back, loving the desire that darkened her

eyes along with the way she held him tight, as though reluctant to part.

“I believe we’ve returned to the ball.”

“Oh.” She blinked several times as she released him. If her sigh was any indication, she didn’t want to return inside any more than he did.

“We should go in.” They might be betrothed, but appearances still mattered.

“Yes.” She smoothed her skirt then gave a nod. “Mother will be wondering where I am.”

“Perhaps we should return through separate entrances.” “Excellent idea.”

He assisted her to alight then gestured for her to enter through the front door a short distance away. “I’ll go in through the garden.”

“I’ll see you inside then.” But rather than walking up the steps, she studied him, making him wonder at her thoughts once again.

Before he could ask, she’d turned and hurried inside, leaving him alone in the dark of the night.

He didn’t care for the feeling at all.

~*~

Caroline was relieved to see the hosts weren’t in the

entrance any longer. Thinking of an excuse as to why she was re-entering their ball felt beyond her wits at the moment.

She crossed the marbled floor, walked past the tall

columns and through the open ballroom doors, her heart heavy despite that wonderful kiss in the carriage.

Though she couldn’t name the reason for it, she didn’t think Richard was hers. She could call him her betrothed, but he remained elusive, as though he held back a part of himself.

Or was she the one doing so?

She’d grown to care for him far more than she’d dreamed possible since that first night in Southbys’ garden. The passion she found in his arms surprised her. She’d never felt this way before—an odd fluctuation between hope and despair. She better understood why some people did outrageous acts in the name of love.

She halted abruptly. Love? No, it couldn’t be.

While she certainly cared for Richard, she was still

coming to know him. Love was an emotion rarely experienced and only after significant time spent together. Wasn’t it?

Then why did her heart speed at the mere sight of Richard? Why did her world right itself when she was in his arms? Why did she wish they could’ve stayed in the carriage?

“Miss Gold, is something amiss?” The Duke of Wayfair stood directly before her, the disturbing look on his face

catching her off guard.

He was the last person she wanted to see. But she needed to do all in her power to make certain he kept his silence about her father. That meant politeness was in order. She pasted the semblance of a smile on her lips. “Nothing at all, your grace. I hope the evening finds you well.”

“It does, indeed.” He stepped closer, much to her surprise.

Did he intend to insist she go on another ridiculous

errand? The idea had her temper flaring. Agreeing to such a request felt wrong. Nor could she refuse and risk harm to her family. She waited, wondering what he’d say next. His close regard made her decidedly uncomfortable.

At last, he said, “I find you most attractive, Caroline.”

Heat filled her cheeks at the forward comment, along with the use of her given name. “Thank you, your grace.”

“It is unfortunate and inconvenient that you’re betrothed to Aberland. In fact, if the betrothal were to be broken, I’m

certain another offer would be forthcoming.”

She stilled, her mind racing. Did he suggest what she thought he suggested? Was this some terrible trial fate had brought forth to test her resolve?

She’d longed for this moment for months. The idea of saving her family after all left her breathless. While the profitable investment eased their situation considerably, her marrying the duke meant they could hire the best doctors to see to her father. They’d never have to worry about money again.

Or was the reason she was breathless due to the thought of losing Richard? Not merely losing him, but shoving him aside. The idea made her positively ill, especially on the heels of her realization of how much she loved him.

How many times had she told herself she was willing to do anything to save her family?

She glanced at the duke from under her lashes, well aware this was the same man who’d used her for his own end. Not only used her, but deliberately sent her into a potentially dangerous situation. Who’d threatened to reveal a harmful secret. What kind of man would do such things to a woman he considered making his wife?

Not an honorable one.

Perhaps she could’ve endured marriage to him if she hadn’t found love.

While she still felt uncertain about her relationship with Richard as well as his actions, she knew he was honorable.

He’d never deliberately cause harm to her or her family despite her earlier doubts about him. If only she could gain his trust so he’d tell her what he was about.

“I hope I’ve made my meaning clear,” the duke said, frowning at her lack of response.

Though tempted to tell him what she thought of his suggestion, she held her tongue. What could she possibly say that wouldn’t anger him? “I will certainly consider your words carefully.”

She didn’t refer to what he’d said as a proposal, for it wasn’t. He’d made no promise to marry her if she broke her betrothal, nor would she believe him if he had. Something

about the duke made her uneasy. She’d been so focused on his money and connections that she’d ignored her instincts

regarding the man himself.

Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to make her escape from the duke’s presence. She nearly shuddered at the idea of being trapped in a marriage with him. Her gaze swept across the ballroom, searching for Richard.

As though she now had a special sense for him, she

caught sight of him almost immediately. By the frown on his face, he didn’t like the duke speaking to her.

That made two of them.

~*~

Richard entered Brooks’s the next afternoon, eager to

execute the plan he and his associates had developed to expose Wayfair as a spy. After seeing him speak to Caroline last night and witnessing her upset, Richard was even more anxious to prove the man’s guilt. She’d refused to share what the duke had said. No doubt she still feared the man would threaten once again to share the truth about her father.

No more. Richard had had enough. What better way to remove the threat Wayfair posed to Caroline and her family than declaring him a traitor to the entire world?

The duke’s movements had been closely watched since his return from Southampton. As reported, Wayfair sat at a table before the fire, sipping a drink as he conversed with

another man.

Many French spies had started using books to send coded messages, much like the one Wayfair had sent Caroline to

exchange. In order to have enough proof against a titled lord, especially a duke with ties to the Prince Regent, Whitehall

wanted solid evidence that came directly from Wayfair with witnesses to confirm it.

While the evidence they’d collected from the book and message Caroline had been asked to exchange helped, it

wouldn’t be enough to convict the duke.

Today’s plan was simple—swap the book Richard carried in an inner pocket of his jacket with the one they expected

Wayfair to leave for his contact.

Unfortunately, the number of variables in the plan were many. Had the footman who worked for the duke gotten the correct book title? Was today the day Wayfair intended to leave the book for his contact?

Viscount Atley, an associate of Richard’s, walked forward from one of the interior rooms, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Atley.” Richard nodded, pausing to converse with him as though nothing untoward was about to occur.

“The gaming tables treated me well today. Why don’t I buy you a drink?” Atley played his part well, saying the words loud enough that Wayfair could hear if he cared to listen.

Atley led the way toward a table a good distance from Wayfair—just in the next room but still within sight, signaling for drinks as he went.

Richard took a chair that, if he leaned forward, allowed him to observe the duke. He hoped Wayfair would reveal the book.

The footman who worked for both Wayfair and Whitehall waited outside with the duke’s carriage and had confirmed the man had taken the book with him that morning. It wasn’t inside the carriage unless Wayfair had tucked it away somewhere. The possibility that he didn’t intend to exchange the book at the club crossed Richard’s mind. If that was the

case, they’d need to find another way to make their plan succeed.

They had to, before Richard took matters into his own hands and throttled the duke for continuing to bother Caroline.

A waiter arrived with drinks while Atley and Richard conversed. Time passed at a snail’s pace as they waited for Wayfair to make his move.

At last, both Wayfair and his companion stood. When the other man turned away, the duke casually withdrew a small book from inside his jacket and set it on the table.

Richard breathed a sigh of relief to see the same book he carried but quickly shifted back from view as the duke glanced about the club and stepped away from the book.

At Richard’s nod, Atley rose and moved forward as

casually as possible. “Wayfair, good to see you. I’ve a question for you.”

With Atley holding the duke’s attention, Richard walked toward them, hoping the duke didn’t decide to suddenly turn around. As smoothly as possible, he removed his book from the inside pocket of his jacket and switched it with the one on the table then tucked the duke’s book into his inside pocket.

As though sensing someone behind him, the duke turned to look at him, giving Richard a less than friendly glare. His gaze dropped to the book on the table before returning to

Atley, who continued speaking.

Richard kept walking directly out the front door, nerves stretched taut as he waited for the duke to demand he stop.

The sooty London air had never smelled sweeter as he

exited the club, gave a nod to the duke’s footman, and hailed a hackney to take him to Whitehall.

Richard waited until the hackney was well away from the club before pulling out the book. He fanned the pages slowly, rewarded when a piece of paper dropped to his lap.

To the casual reader, the message would seem unimportant. But even its vague words suggested it hid vital information. Breaking the codes of various messages and letters the French sent was no easy task. Their methods

changed often. But taking the time and effort to intercept and decipher messages had paid off again and again. Knowing the enemies’ plans meant the difference between victory and defeat and had saved the lives of many English soldiers.

Napoleon may have recently conceded, but the work of Whitehall continued.

Atley would soon end his conversation with the duke but remain at Brooks’s to see who collected the book and follow him.

If the message Richard had intercepted was of importance, they would have proof the Duke of Wayfair was a French spy. And that would make it even more likely Wayfair was indeed Le Sournois. Richard was most anxious to find out for himself, for Dumond, and now for Caroline as well.