Miss Burton Unmasks a Prince (10 page)

Rodrigo nodded his head in acknowledgement. He would have liked to ask the colonel more about Meg, but the way the man studied him already made him feel as if the colonel knew more than Rodrigo was willing to say. “Principe Rodrigo de la Talavera. I thank you for meeting with me, sir. My sister speaks quite highly of you, and I cannot begin to express my thanks for rescuing her and bringing her safely from Spain. For this, I am forever in your debt, Colonel.” Rodrigo blinked at the prickling in his eyes.

The colonel’s damaged face softened into a semblance of a smile. “Serena is one of the finest women of my acquaintance, sir.”

Rodrigo raised his brows at the man’s familiar use of his sister’s Christian name but did not comment on it. He would forgive this man any breach of etiquette after the way he’d risked his own life to protect Serena.

“She tells me that you have some questions and you think I might be able to provide some answers,” the colonel said.

Rodrigo nodded, motioning toward the chairs near the fireplace. “Please have a seat.” He replaced Meg’s sketchbook and drew the curtains back, returning them to their former position before he took a seat by the fire.

Colonel Stackhouse watched thoughtfully, and Rodrigo attempted to appear as if he were simply a naturally tidy person, instead of concealing evidence of his intrusion into Meg’s personal things.

“Colonel, my sister and I hoped you might have some information about our parents. They were taken from Madrid months ago, and though we’ve employed emissaries to learn anything of their whereabouts . . . or fate”—Rodrigo’s throat tightened on this last word, and he swallowed hard—“we have been unable to discover anything. At the very least, we thought you might have an idea where to search or whom to ask.”

The colonel nodded. “It’s surprising that with all your resources, you’ve been unable to find anything. But I do not see it as a sign they have not survived.”

Rodrigo’s chest clenched, but he was grateful the colonel did not mince words. He would rather have the truth, no matter how difficult to hear.

The colonel pushed out a heavy breath and settled back into the chair. “Your Highness, I firmly believe the key to winning a war lies in understanding one’s enemy. I have fought the blasted French for decades.” He spoke slowly, and Rodrigo had the impression that the colonel did not speak at length often so he had better listen.

“The emperor is a bit less predictable than his predecessors, but when it comes down to it, we must realize the reason your parents—and the rest of the royal family—were taken. They were not killed as a demonstration of power. Napoleon knows that the Spanish people are too devoted to the monarchy, and such an action would only ensure further rejection of his brother. I believe the emperor has been surprised to encounter resistance from the militia bands in the hills as it is.

“The obvious reason for abducting the royal family is to dishearten the people and increase their loyalty to Joseph. And if you do not mind my saying so, Your Highness, I’m quite surprised they have not attempted something of this sort with you and your sister. It’s not exactly a secret that she married the Duke of Southampton, and while you have an admirable detachment of guards, it would not be impossible for the French to find and seize the two of you as well.”

Rodrigo frowned. “Do you truly believe Serena to be in danger?”

“I believe both of you to be in danger. To Spain, you represent hope. You are a beloved prince and princess, a symbol of what the country once was. Certainly you can see how this makes you a thorn in the emperor’s side?”

“And what would you recommend, Colonel?” Rodrigo’s stomach was sick at the idea that the colonel would want to relocate Serena, but he would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe.

“What I’d recommend is keeping the two of you locked up in the Tower of London, surrounded by an army of dragoon guards until this war ends. But I will not brave Serena’s temper by mentioning it.” A strange expression crossed the colonel’s face, and Rodrigo realized the man was attempting to make a joke, and by its clumsy execution, how rare an event such a thing was.

“With your permission, I’ll post some more British troops on the duke’s estate and around Southampton. Simply as a precaution, you understand.”

“I do not think such a thing is necessary.”

“You must know that the safety of a foreign diplomat does not rank among the army’s highest priorities, and the guards assigned are not exactly—” Colonel Stackhouse narrowed his eye as he studied Rodrigo. “You intend to leave.”

“Yes.”

“And why would you do such a foolhardy thing?”

“I intend to rescue my parents. The first whisper of their whereabouts, and I mean to find them.” Rodrigo lifted his chin, daring the colonel to oppose his decision.

The colonel was silent for a moment regarding Rodrigo with his one eye. “I do hope when the time comes you will consult with me for a bit of strategy before you go barreling across the channel. Rescue missions are something I have a bit of experience with. I will, of course, see to further safety measures for your sister.”

“Thank you.” Rodrigo could not keep the relief from his voice.

“It’s a weighty responsibility that’s been thrust upon you. Even if we successfully drive the French out of Spain, your country has an enormous amount of mending to do. And I do not simply mean repairing damaged property.”

Rodrigo’s shoulders sagged. “It’s true. The problems began long before Napoleon’s invasion. And my family is a large part of it.”

“But you have been working with the Cortes, am I correct? It is a valuable thing you do, attempting to negotiate a compromise.”

“Yes, but we must hope that King Fernando acknowledges the new constitu—” Rodrigo’s words broke off when he heard voices outside the library. Women’s voices. He immediately recognized Meg’s as one of them. He looked at the colonel, who must have seen panic in his eyes. “Excuse me, sir.”

Colonel Stackhouse’s face remained impassive. He pointed to the door leading to the side office, and Rodrigo had just slipped through when he heard the library door open behind him.

Meg paused with her hand on the library doorknob when she heard Helen calling to her from down the hallway. She turned her head to look back the way she’d come.

“Miss Meg,” Helen said, as she approached. “I am sorry to bother you. I wondered if I might have a word with you?”

Meg had come to be quite fond of Helen in the past few days, though they’d never had a chance to speak privately. “Of course, Lady Helen. And please just call me Meg.”

“And will you call me Helen? It is so nice to have a friend.” Helen smiled shyly.

Meg linked her arm through Helen’s. “Perhaps we could talk in the library?” She pushed the door open, and the familiar smell of leather and books wrapped around her. Her eyes were drawn to the far wall as the door to the small office closed. Undoubtedly a servant, Meg thought, noticing the fire crackling in the hearth.

The ladies walked into the room and sat together upon a sofa. The room wasn’t bright. The cloudy sky muted most of the sunlight through the uncovered windows, and aside from the fireplace, the only light came from candles that flickered around the room. But Meg didn’t want to risk revealing her secret place on the window seat by opening more drapes.

She studied the other woman’s face for a moment. Helen’s gaze was turned downward, and she picked at her fingernails as if she were nervous. Meg decided that if there was going to be conversation, it would be up to her to begin it. “What is it you wanted to ask me, Helen?”

Helen raised her eyes quickly, and Meg was again startled by the bright color. She just as quickly lowered them, and her cheeks reddened. “It is about your brother. I wondered if you might tell me what sort of things appeal to him. I hoped to find some topics of conversation that would keep his interest.”

Then you should talk about pretty young ladies,
Meg thought. Daniel declared himself hopelessly smitten nearly every month. It seemed he continually found a new “true love,” but he just as quickly lost interest as soon as another attractive woman caught his eye.

Meg did not want to see Helen become the latest injured party. “Maybe you should speak about subjects that are interesting to
you
,” Meg said. “I am sure there are a great many things that you enjoy. Music, for example. Your performance on the pianoforte the other night was exquisite.”

Helen shook her head, and her dark golden curls bounced slightly. “I hardly think a gentleman wants to hear about my favorite sheet music or composers.”

Meg reached to squeeze her hand, and Helen looked back up at her. “Nonsense. Your activities and concerns are every bit as important as those of anyone else. Do not pretend to be someone other than Lady Helen Poulter in hopes of impressing a man.”

“I suppose I am worried that no gentleman will find Lady Helen Poulter remarkable enough,” Helen said softly.

“Then you simply have not met the correct gentlemen. There are a great many things about you that are remarkable, and any man would be a fool not to perceive them.” Meg smiled, hoping to reassure her new friend.

“You really are a bluestocking, Meg,” Helen said.

“Don’t tell Lady Vernon,” Meg whispered conspiratorially.

Helen smiled in return, and the ladies sat in a companionable silence for a short moment before Helen spoke. “What a time we shall have tomorrow when we go to choose our costumes for the masque.”

Meg felt a shiver of excitement at the thought. She could not wait to choose an exotic costume for the ball.

Helen’s shy expression returned, as did the color flooding her cheeks. “Is there a specific costume you believe Daniel might be pleased to see me wear?” she asked.

Meg resisted the urge to shake Helen’s shoulders but was spared the necessity of answering when a servant stepped into the room.

“Pardon me, Lady Helen, but the music instructor awaits you in the conservatory.”

She thanked him and turned to Meg. “Please excuse me,” Helen said. “I am rather uneasy about the sonata I have chosen for the musicale. I am afraid I will never play Beethoven as well as I should.”

The reminder that she would be performing as well made Meg’s stomach dip uneasily, but she kept a smile upon her face. “I would not worry. That poor musician is rumored to still be at the Bohemian spa in Teplitz. I do not think he can hear Lady Harrison’s pianoforte from such a distance. And even if he could, I think he would be quite pleased with your effort in regards to his work. I do hope you have a lovely practice session.”

“Thank you, Meg.” Helen squeezed her hand and left the library.

Meg crossed to the window seat to push aside the curtains, but she spun quickly when a voice startled her.

“A pity you do not follow your own advice, Miss Burton.”

Meg saw the colonel stand from the chair facing the fire. She pushed her palm against her chest. “Colonel Stackhouse, you startled me.” Meg took a moment to regain her composure, and as her breathing slowed, her eyes narrowed. “Sir, why did you not reveal yourself sooner? It is quite discourteous to eavesdrop on a private conversation.”

The colonel stood, and Meg squared her shoulders. She would not allow this man with his gruesome scar and frightening manner to intimidate her. Luckily Helen had not completely shut the library door. Meg didn’t like to admit it, but the colonel quite unnerved her, and being alone with the man . . .

“Please have a seat, miss.” The colonel indicated a chair near the fireplace with a gracious bow. The corner of his lips twitched slightly, and she had the distinct impression that he could read her thoughts.

“Thank you.” Meg sat on the edge of the chair and smoothed her skirts over her legs, avoiding his gaze.

The colonel sat back into his chair. His hair was tied into a queue, and his face was clean-shaven. Even the patch over his eye seemed to be positioned with more care than she’d previously seen. Perhaps his injury was not bothering him as badly as it had been.

He offered no apology for concealing his presence, and from his expression, she did not think he was likely to. He watched her for a moment, as if waiting for her to speak.

Meg thought back to what the colonel had overheard, and finally spoke to fill the uncomfortable silence. “I do not understand your meaning, sir. If you mean that I should follow my own advice and practice the pianoforte, I do not believe it is a pity at all that I neglect it to such an extent.”

“I was referring to the counsel you gave Lady Helen in regards to impressing a gentleman. It’s a shame you do not follow the course you recommended.”

Heat spread up Meg’s neck, and she fought to keep it down. She gazed at the painting above the fireplace, attempting to look as though his words did not affect her. “I’m afraid I do not know what you mean.” She knew precisely what the colonel meant, and it was humiliating. But it was also none of the man’s business.

The colonel shifted in his chair, resting his ankle upon his knee. “Perhaps I am mistaken, then, miss. But what did you think of Lord Featherstone’s reference to Southey’s
After Blenheim
?”

Meg remembered perfectly the moment the colonel referred to and knew that he had seen her reaction when the earl had quoted the poem. “I believe . . . it was unsuitable for the earl to use antiwar poetry in reference to the battle where you were injured.” Her stomach clenched as she thought of just how inappropriate the earl’s words had been. “The reiteration of ‘’twas a famous victory,’ indicates that the narrator does not understand why war happens; he’s merely repeating the words he’s been told. I have to believe that perhaps the earl did not fully understand Southey’s meaning.”

Somehow the colonel managed to look at her intently and still keep an expression that neared exasperation. “Based on your reaction that night, the earl’s misrepresentation disturbed you deeply. Poetry is quite important to you, is it not? You’re well versed, and not merely for recreation, but as a serious student of morality and theme.”

Meg nodded slowly. She was unsure of the direction in which this conversation was moving.