Lady of Seduction (34 page)

Read Lady of Seduction Online

Authors: Laurel McKee

Tags: #Romance, #FIC027050, #Historical, #Fiction

McMaster stood behind the bar and wiped at a stack of dusty glasses. He didn’t even glance up as Grant walked past and let
himself into the back room.

It was also dark, the air warm and close, but it wasn’t empty. A group of men were huddled around a table in the corner with
their heads bent over a map. Their voices were low, angry mutters.

And at their center sat Grant’s cousin and erstwhile enemy, Conlan McTeer, Duke of Adair. Conlan said nothing, merely listened
to the others with an impassive look on his dark face. He smoked a thin cheroot, and the silvery smoke curled around him.

Conlan had always looked like an Irish devil, dark and glowering to Grant’s former bright charm. Now he looked even more so,
harder and leaner than ever, as if having a family to protect made him even fiercer.

Grant knew something of that feeling now. He thought of Caroline’s soft smile as she drifted into sleep beside him, and the
gentle touch of her hand on his face. He would fight any foe to protect her, go into any battle.

Conlan saw him there, and his bland expression flashed to surprise. He stubbed out the cheroot and rose to his feet. He slowly
crossed the room, and Grant wasn’t sure if he should brace himself for a strike from his cousin. Though they had corresponded
for many months, forming this uneasy alliance and working together, they hadn’t seen each other since the long-ago day of
the fire. Grant could see the anger still simmering deep in Conlan’s eyes.

But his cousin held out his hand for Grant to shake. “I see you’ve decided to join us at last, Grant.”

Grant glanced at the men still huddled around the table. They went on with their arguments and plans, but Grant could see
them shooting secret, wary looks his way.

“I couldn’t let you and your friends have all the fun,” he answered.

One of Conlan’s dark brows arched. “Friends?” he said. He drew Grant to a shadowed corner and asked quietly, “Did all go as
planned?”

“In some ways.” Grant took out the packet of papers that he had purloined from LaPlace and handed them to Conlan. “The French
emissary showed up on Muirin Inish as arranged, and he was most informative—even if he did not choose to be. He had his own
ends to accomplish.”

“I would expect nothing else,” Conlan said as he sorted through the documents. His frown grew fiercer the more he read. “Napoleon
has his own ambitions; he cares nothing at all for Ireland. To rely on such an uncertain ally can only do us harm.”

“And so you’ve told the others.”

“Much good it does. Emmet has been in Paris all these years. He can’t see anything else. Yet I read here that Bonaparte says
he fears the Irish people have grown complacent under the English yoke and no longer care to fight for their independence.
He needs proof of Irish intentions before he commits to aid.”

“LaPlace declared that if Dublin should rise, the north would follow and Napoleon would see the seriousness of Irish purpose,”
Grant said. “Then he would send troops to land at Galway and supply more arms.”

“By then, it would be far too late,” Conlan said grimly.
“Ireland has no stomach for a large scale rising on its own now. We have barely begun to recover from ninety-eight, and the
Castle is tightening control even as we speak. General Fox has taken over command from Meadows, and he’s already increased
garrison strength here in Dublin and at Dunboyne and Kildare. He’s added even more patrols in the city, sent ammunitions supplements
to the barracks, and he’s threatening to resume martial law. He’s no fool. He and his troops will be ready if there’s a fight.”

“And will there be a fight?” Grant asked quietly.

“Right now, in these conditions, it would be utterly foolhardy. Emmet can’t win, and another rising, brutally put down, would
only make the English tighten their control even more,” Conlan said. “It would put us in an even worse position, and I won’t
risk my family or my people at Adair for such an abortive scheme.”

“You’ve grown cool headed, cousin,” Grant said.

Conlan laughed ruefully. “I’ve had to be. If we want our freedom, rash actions and senseless bloodshed will never gain it.
We have to wait, watch, and carefully plan until our time comes.”

“And that time is not now. I saw it myself on this journey. The people in the counties aren’t going to rise.”

“I suspected as much.” Conlan refolded the papers and slapped them down on a nearby table. They sat there in a rumpled heap,
a silent reminder of all the violence and blood that got them here.

“I heard about the explosion,” Grant said. “Even in the countryside, it’s talked about, and it has people scared.”

Conlan nodded grimly. “The armory at Patrick Street. They were making signal rockets, the fools, and sparks caught on some
spilled gunpowder. It blew a hole in
the roof and started a fire. They managed to move the wounded and clean up a bit before the watchmen arrived, but it attracted
a great deal of unwanted attention. General Fox has sent soldiers to look for other depots. Emmet’s officers say that argues
for an early rising, before the stashes of arms around the city are found.”

“How early?” Grant asked.

Conlan shrugged. “I haven’t yet heard word. Within days I would think.” He glanced at the other men. “Some of them would go
charging into the streets rights now, the damnable fools.”

Grant thought of Caroline in the house at Henrietta Street, the last pleading glance she gave him as he left her. That house
was vast and strong, with thick walls and deep cellars. But would it hold fast in a war?

He rubbed his hand hard over his face. Damn it, he should have left her in Ballylynan, or at least insisted on taking her
to Killinan.

Conlan gave him a shrewd look. “You said matters went as planned in ‘some ways.’ What did you mean, Grant?”

Grant sat down heavily in the nearest chair. “You won’t like it.”

“If it has to do with
you,
cousin, I’m sure I won’t,” Conlan said. He sat down on the edge of the table. “Tell me.”

“I did not return to Dublin alone. I brought Caroline with me.”

“So your note to Anna said. You found her on this research journey of hers? I’m surprised she agreed to come with you.”

“I didn’t tell Anna the whole truth. I didn’t want her to worry about her sister, and I thought she should know Caroline was
on her way to Dublin.”

Conlan crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned back with deceptive laziness, but Grant could see the taut tension of his
shoulders. Family was everything to Conlan, and Caroline was his sister now. “Then what
is
the truth, Grant?”

“We’ve been together for weeks. She came to Muirin Inish looking for
The Chronicle of Kildare
for her research just as LaPlace arrived. She left the island with me, and I brought her here. With me.”

Conlan suddenly slammed his palms down on the table with a crash loud enough to make the other men cease their arguments and
turn toward their corner.

“What do you mean
together
?” Conlan shouted. “I thought your work with us meant you had changed, but if you seduced her I swear…”

“I care about her,” he said simply.

Conlan stared at him with a stony, burning glare, a perfect stillness, and somehow Grant had to admit it all to his cousin.
“I love her,” he said. “Once I thought you were a fool in your passion for Anna Blacknall, but now—now I understand.”

He eyed Grant warily for a long moment before he nodded. “You do love her.”

“Yes,” was all Grant could say.

Conlan laughed. “I knew no man could resist a Blacknall woman, not even a bastard like you.”

Chapter Thirty

C
aro? Are you asleep? May I come in?”

Caroline heard her sister’s soft knock on the chamber door, but she didn’t stir from the bed. She had been lying there for
hours, on her side, facing the window as she watched the daylight fade and the city slip into the dark blue-black of a summer
twilight. The servants had taken away the used bathwater and left a pile of clean clothes, and a maid lit the lamps, but still
Caroline stayed there, thinking about all Anna had told her.

Grant worked with Conlan, and had for many months. He was certainly no French or English spy, nor even a newly minted fiery
revolutionary. He worked with his cousin, a man he had once hated so bitterly, to protect the land and the people they both
loved. He had come back to his family at last.

And now her love for him, so fierce before, only grew and grew. It seemed her heart would burst with love; it was so vast
and wondrous. But he had left her here and gone off into some unknown danger, and she wasn’t sure if she could bear it.

Anna’s knock grew more insistent. “Caro, what are you doing in there?”

Caroline rolled over to face the door. “Come in, Anna. I’m not doing anything nefarious, just resting.”

As Caroline sat up against the lace-trimmed pillows, Anna opened the door and stepped into the chamber. She was dressed for
a party in a fashionable high-waisted gown of pale lavender silk embroidered with a gold Grecian pattern at the hem. A necklace
of amethysts and diamonds sparkled at her throat, and her golden hair was piled up in curls and twined with pearls.

“You look beautiful, Anna,” Caroline said. “Going somewhere special, or is this just how a duchess chooses to dine at home?
Setting standards and all.”

Anna tossed a cushion at Caroline’s head and sat down on the dressing table stool. “I’m going to a waltzing party at Signora
Rastrelli’s, and you should come, too. You remember the signora—she was my friend Jane, Lady Cannondale, before she married
again.”

Caroline certainly did remember Lady Cannondale. She had once seen her kissing Grant at a party. “A party tonight, of all
nights?”

“Yes, it’s been long planned, and no one refuses an invitation from Jane. Conlan sent a message saying he won’t return home
until very late but that I must go. It will show everyone we have nothing to hide and that there is nothing to fear.” Anna
suddenly gave a dazzling smile. “And I
do
love to waltz. Don’t you, Caro?”

Caroline had to laugh. “I have never tried it at all. They say it’s a terribly scandalous dance.”

“Oh, it is! Deliciously so.” Anna leaped up from her seat and caught Caroline’s hands to tug her to her feet.
She twirled her around the room, faster and faster until they were both giggling madly. “You see, it’s very easy.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than this,” Caroline said. “Proper steps and all that. I never could remember those.”

“No, it is just like this. One, two, three, and one, two, three. Spin, leap, turn!”

They fell into a dizzy heap on the floor, Anna’s silk skirts and Caroline’s nightdress billowing around them.

“You see,” Anna said. “It will be great fun.”

“Until someone breaks a leg,” Caroline answered. “I’m not sure I feel like dancing.” Not when she was so worried about Grant.
Not when she was trying to figure everything out in a world suddenly gone topsy-turvy.

“Then you don’t have to dance. Just sip some wine and listen to some gossip.” Anna suddenly looked very serious. “It really
would be best if we went out tonight. Staying here and fretting won’t do any good.”

Caroline pleated her sleeve between her fingers, not looking at her sister. “I’m not fretting.”

“No? I certainly am.” Anna gently touched her shoulder. “Conlan’s message said that Grant is with him. They’re trying to stop
this futile madness before it gets out of control. They’ll be safe together, and we need to stay together as well.”

“I couldn’t bear it if he was hurt,” Caroline whispered.

Anna’s arm slid around her shoulders and drew her close. “I know,” she said, and Caroline knew she really did. Anna loved
Conlan with all her heart, had faced danger many times with him, and she was always brave in the face of it. Caroline just
had to do the same.

“You really do care about him, don’t you?” said Anna.

Caroline nodded. “I love him.”

Anna’s lips tightened. “You love Grant Dunmore?”

“I told you, Anna—he’s not the same now. Surely his work with Conlan shows that? He wants to make amends for what he once
did. He wants to be a good man. He
is
a good man! If you only knew all he’s done—for all of us.” But she couldn’t tell Anna about everything Grant had done. She
couldn’t tell her about the secrets in the pages of
The Chronicle.
Grant had entrusted those to her.

“What has he done, Caro?”

“Lots of things,” Caroline said. “He’s different now, that’s all. I know it.”

“Yes. He must be, if you love him.” Anna gave a deep sigh. “I confess I did not trust him when he first wrote to Conlan and
said he wanted to help us. But family is everything to Conlan, and he wanted to give his cousin a chance, though cautiously
until Grant had proved himself. You have always been the most sensible and practical of us, Caro. If you trust Grant…”

“I do.”

“Then I do, too.” Anna kissed her cheek. “We are a sad lot, us Blacknall sisters. We never want men with calm, safe lives.”

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