Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book (48 page)

Given the stakes, did it matter?

“Tell me what we need to do.” Robert dragged his fingers through his hair again. “You know I detest doing this sort of thing— becoming involved in someone else's lies and schemes. Ever since Father forced me to help hide his”— he glanced over his shoulder, afraid of being overheard— “his indiscretion.”

Frederick snorted. “‘Indiscretion.’ That’s a rather mild description. For me, the word ‘treason’ comes to mind.” He shook his head. “I know you detest being dragged into other people’s problems, and I can’t say I blame you. What Father forced you to do was unconscionable, but this is entirely different. What he demanded of you was illegal and corrupt, whereas what I’m asking of you is entirely honorable.”

“But still illegal.”

“Honorable,” Frederick insisted. “This is at the Queen’s request.”

Honor. Frederick was obsessed with it. Perhaps they both were.

Frederick pushed away from the balustrade and stiffened his spine. “It’s time for us to do this. I want to have the book in hand and be well clear of this place before that courier arrives.” At first glance, he appeared quite normal. No one would guess he’d been injured if not for the damp cloth wrapped around his hand.

A footman opened the doors at their approach, and they reentered the glittering ballroom where the elite members of London society gathered for the culminating event of the Russian winter solstice celebration
Koliada
. They squeezed through the dense crowd as they made their way toward the main foyer. They hadn’t gone far when Frederick stopped abruptly.

“What is it?” Razors of anxiety lanced through Robert. Had something gone wrong already? Had Frederick spotted the courier?

“It’s Lady Harrington.” Frederick licked his lips. “She saw me. I think she’s headed this way.”

Robert’s tension disappeared with the speed of a bursting soap-bubble, leaving him feeling slightly giddy with relief. His brother was having trouble with his ladylove? He grinned. “I thought she was a ‘dear friend’ of yours. Why is having her see you a problem?” A sudden, sobering thought struck him. Unless... “Is she a spy too?” he asked in a near whisper.

Frederick shot him a scathing glance. “Of course not. It’s nothing like that. I merely told her I wouldn’t be here tonight.”

That certainly wasn’t the reply he’d expected, and it left him momentarily dumbfounded. “You mean you
lied
?” What an interesting turn of events.

The tips of Frederick’s ears reddened. “She always arrives late for these things, and I planned to leave before she made an appearance.”

“Are you saying you want to avoid her so much you
lied
to her?”

“Who says I want to avoid her?”

Robert gave his brother an assessing gaze. “Something has changed between the two of you.” He leaned closer so he couldn’t be overheard. “You’ve never mentioned what happened the night of your tryst,” he murmured. “Did something go wrong?”

Frederick’s face began to flush as well. “A gentleman doesn’t speak of such things.”

“Considering what’s at stake, why don’t you simply explain so we can get on with it— how much of a risk does she pose tonight?”

The tension stretched between them, as taut as an over-wound violin string. Finally, a sigh burst from Frederick’s lips. “Things between us became a bit more complicated than I expected.” He glanced down. “Quite frankly, I don’t think it’s wise to spend more time with her.”

Robert raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you have feelings for the woman?”

The tips of Frederick’s ears turned a brighter shade of red. “Don’t be ridiculous. We don’t have time for this nonsense.” He focused his gaze on something behind Robert. “Someone waylaid her. Let’s go before she breaks free and tries to corner me.”

As they entered the large foyer, Frederick pointed out a spot behind an enormous urn near the cloakroom. “We can temporarily hide the book there once we retrieve it,” he murmured.

Robert made a mental note of the location and glanced around. Everyone seemed engrossed in conversation. Everyone except the woman in the silver gown he’d noticed earlier.

His eyes were drawn to her yet again.

She stood still, her chestnut-brown hair pinned up with curling tendrils teasing the nape of her neck, gazing up at the balcony. What was it about her that captivated him? Perhaps if he’d stopped to speak with her earlier, tonight would have unfolded differently. Perhaps that explained the odd feeling of fate he’d sensed, and by turning his back on her, he’d chosen this path— one which excluded love.

Frederick hurried Robert through a door that dumped them into a silent hallway dotted with many closed doors. “This is where the embassy’s offices are located.” He led them to a servants’ staircase and they quickly made their way upstairs.

“While we’re up here, we need to act like normal guests who accidentally wandered into a forbidden area while exploring the embassy. After all, the building’s renovations were only completed a month ago. Our curiosity will hardly be commented upon.”

Robert took a moment to count the number of doors dotting the hallway from the balcony to the hidden servants’ staircase. When he’d been at Eton, his friend Daniel had been Robert’s partner in crime and had taught him how to sneak around the grounds undetected. Counting doors had been one of Robert’s assignments. Daniel had always stressed the importance of an escape route. They’d often slipped down to the school’s pantry to pick locks and pilfer some food, or sneaked off school grounds to go into town. They’d rarely been seen, and thanks to careful planning, they’d never been caught.

They came to the balcony overlooking the grand foyer. The marble entryway below appeared deserted except for the footman standing at the base of the staircase with his back to them.

Frederick pulled him away from the railing. “The footman is stationed down there to keep guests from venturing up those stairs,” he murmured. “Stay out of sight.” He edged over to the balcony, glanced down, and muttered a stifled curse before ducking back.

“What is it?”

“Lady Harrington. She’s in the foyer below, and she caught a glimpse of me.”

“Will that cause a problem?”

“Maybe. We should hurry.”

At that moment, a young boy’s sweet soprano tones rose above the other sounds, and the guests immediately became silent. After a moment, other children’s voices joined in, and the sound evoked another memory of Eton. He’d loved being part of the choir there. He might have disappointed his teachers in other ways, but they’d always praised him for his voice.

“Damn,” he muttered. “This was the main reason I wanted to come tonight— to hear the choir.”

“We can hear them perfectly from up here.”

Robert shook his head. “It isn’t the same. My attention is divided.” When he focused on music, it transported him. Elevated him. He hated letting it become nothing but another background noise.

Robert glanced down and noticed the fat drops of water falling from his brother’s ice-filled cloth onto the hardwood floor. He touched Frederick’s sleeve and pointed down.

Frederick’s gaze traveled along the corridor, taking in the trail of water on the gleaming surface. “Blast,” he whispered. “I need to clean that up. It’s as bad as leaving a trail of breadcrumbs.”

As his brother lifted the edge of the cloth to glance at the burns, Robert caught a glimpse. The blisters had swollen and looked as though they might burst.

Frederick’s determined gray eyes met his. “Let’s get to the ambassador’s rooms. You can pick the lock while I search for something to wipe up this water. It would be simpler if I had a key, but the locks were all replaced during the renovation and I couldn’t get one.”

Before asking his brother for the lock picks, Robert tested the porcelain doorknob. It was unlocked. He shot Frederick a relieved smile and pushed the door open. They both slipped inside.

It took Robert’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dim glow from the fireplace’s dying embers.

He surveyed the suite and spotted the ambassador’s desk near a large window overlooking the courtyard below.

“Here,” Frederick said, handing him a rolled length of leather. “You’ll need these.”

Robert recognized the bundle— as familiar as an old friend. He liked the feel of it against his palm.

Frederick began prowling around the room and Robert turned to his own task. After all, this was why his brother needed him tonight— for his nefarious skill.

In the dim light, he leaned over to examine the enormous pedestal desk. It had a lap drawer in the center with a set of drawers on either side. Only the lower ones looked large enough to contain a diplomatic pouch, but when he tugged on them, he discovered both were locked.

With a flick of his hand, Robert unfurled the rolled length of leather onto the desk with practiced ease. He folded back the top layer of leather, revealing an assortment of lock picks gleaming in the moonlight, each fitted snugly into its pocket. It looked surprisingly similar to his own set, and he realized Daniel must have given them identical gifts.

“I can use this to clean up that water,” Frederick said, holding up a cloth as he approached Robert. “Find the book while I’m gone. It’s easy to identify. It’s battered-looking with a Russian Orthodox cross on the tooled-leather cover.”

Robert’s hand froze midway in pulling a lock pick from the roll, and he met Frederick’s gaze. “I prefer you stay. This won’t take long. What if someone comes in?”

“I’ll be right outside. If anyone shows up, I’ll draw them away, and I’ll do it loudly enough that you’ll hear me. Everyone is busy downstairs. It isn’t likely we’ll be discovered.”

“You can’t expect me to—”

“Yes, I can. You’ll be fine.” Frederick stared at him for a long moment, as though weighing his next words. “When we were children, you stole pastries from the cook when his back was turned. You rode the horse Father forbade you to ride. You convinced the coachman to teach you everything he knew about racing a phaeton. You even brought your new friend Daniel home from Eton for a visit. He turned out to be a wild boy who knew how to pick a pocket, fight with a knife, and open any lock. Admit it. You enjoy taking risks. That’s why I want you to join me in working for the Foreign Office.”

“I won’t be dragged into some scandal again.”

“You’re simply afraid you’ll be obliged to fix someone else’s mistakes.” He gave Robert an easy nod, as though he’d come to some realization that pleased him. “Helping me could be a way for you to finally break free of Father’s influence over your life. After all, the man’s been dead for years. The way I see it, you need to make a choice. Either immerse yourself in this role and become involved in the world around you, or continue to remain apart. Why not change the direction of not only your own future, but of England’s as well? Do it! Commit to something. Be the man you want to be rather than the one Father forced you to become.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Robert’s mouth. “That’s a rousing speech.”

Frederick grinned back at him. “I’m practicing for Parliament. Do you think I have a future?”

“Undoubtedly. As long as they don’t find out you used your untrained brother as a last-minute replacement on a critical assignment for the Queen. ‘For want of a hand, the kingdom was lost,’” Robert paraphrased.

Frederick scowled.

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” He jutted his chin toward the door. “Go. Clean up your trail of water. I’ll be your hands. I’ll pick your locks. I’ll steal the church register. But you owe me.”

Frederick gave a wry smile and silently slipped from the room.

Robert knelt to examine the locks more closely and selected two picks from the set. He started with the drawer on the right, since it was more readily accessible.

He still couldn’t believe he was doing this. If he hadn’t seen Frederick get burned with his own eyes, he’d suspect him of having planned this entire evening.

Chess moves. Perhaps he really
was
Frederick’s pawn tonight.

The lock gave way. Robert slid open the drawer and reached into its depths, hoping to brush against the form of a diplomatic pouch.

Footsteps in the corridor. He froze.

Was that a woman’s voice? A feminine trill of laughter? He kept listening.

Seconds ticked by. A log settled in the dying fire, sending off a few sparks, but no other noises intruded. Perhaps he’d been mistaken. The voice might have come from downstairs in the foyer.

He reached again into the drawer’s depths, and his hand grazed an object that could be the diplomatic pouch. He held his breath as he extracted it and rose to his feet. When he set it on the desk, he let out a sigh of relief.

As he bent to examine it, he was surprised to discover it was unlocked and no seals had been affixed to the case. He’d expected this step in tonight’s thievery to be more difficult. Could the ambassador be unaware of the importance of the church register?

Robert opened it and withdrew a small leather-bound volume.

The book was exactly as Frederick had described, right down to the tooled-leather cover bearing the cross of the Russian Orthodox Church. It appeared to have been through a great deal of misuse over the years. Strange for an item which normally resided in a church.