“That's better. Would you care to discuss something else before we have to leave? This is probably not the time or the place for it, but I feel as if I have to speak.”
“What is it?”
He squared his shoulders. “As a senior employee at the pleasure house, I earn a considerable salary. Despite giving a percentage of my money to charity, I have managed to save a goodly sum.”
“That is all very admirable, but I fail to see what it has to do with my present predicament.” She stiffened. “You can't imagine I'd take your money?”
“No, that's not what I meant, I . . .” The sight of Ambrose at a loss for words fascinated Emily. “I have been offered a job as a schoolteacher in a new charity school that will be opening next year, and although the salary is far less than I am earning now, it would at least be a respectable position that comes with accommodation.”
“Are you considering leaving the pleasure house?”
He swallowed hard. “Yes, if it meant that I had a home of my own to offer you.”
She stared at him as his words sank in. “As your wife?”
“As my wife. Although I can quite understand that such a lowly position would not reflect your present accommodation and rank.”
“Ambrose, I have just discovered that I am illegitimate. I hardly think I have a right to look down on anyone who earns his or her own way in life.”
He reached for her hand and she realized his fingers were shaking. “Then you would consider it?”
She covered his hand with her own. “I would consider it an honor.”
He leaned forward and gently kissed her on the lips. “May I suggest that you sort out your problems with Mr. Smith before we discuss this with Lord Knowles?”
“That seems like excellent advice.”
“Don't think that I am afraid anymore. You've taught me how to value myself. I am perfectly willing to approach Lord Knowles to ask for your hand in marriage right now, but I'm trying to be sensible.”
She disengaged her hands. “And I understand that.” She smiled into his eyes. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For always being there for me. You are truly my best friend.”
He kissed her again, and then stood up and held out his hand. “Let me escort you back to Knowles House, Miss Ross. I suspect you have a lot to discuss with your family.”
“I believe I have.” She curtsied to him and put her hand on his arm. She wasn't looking forward to the discussion with Philip at all. But despite everything, the thought of Ambrose waiting for her,
wanting
her, regardless of her social status made everything else seem quite unimportant.
22
“E
mily still hasn't returned?” Richard asked as his father strode into the entrance hall of Knowles House to greet him. Like him, Philip was dressed for riding, which emphasized the already considerable likeness between them.
“No, although I wasn't expecting her to arrive before breakfast. She has never been an early riser.”
“That's true.”
Philip ushered Richard into his study. “Helene has already started her inquiries as to Mr. Brown's identity, but she expects it to be a while before she hears anything interesting. She advises us to seize the moment and go ahead with the assassination plan.”
“Does she?” Richard groaned. “I fear that she is right, but I still don't like it.”
“You'll be pleased to hear that the horse arrived very early this morning, and he is in extremely good health. I suggest you contact Jack Lennox and bring him down to the mews to meet his co-conspirator and get acquainted with his tricks.”
“I'll send him a note right now.” Richard took a seat at Philip's desk. “If it would not trouble you, I'd like to ask Violet to bring Mrs. Lennox here as well. The twins are worried that she will be vulnerable if she is left alone.”
“Certainly she may come here.” Philip warmed his hands at the fire. “I understand that she was present at her husband's murder by that mob and barely escaped with her life.”
“Yes, thank God, Jack was able to get to her in time. Mr. Brown seems to have a penchant for disposing of anyone who might have even the slightest bit of knowledge of him. I wouldn't put it past him to have men who are trained to take advantage of anything instantly on the scene in the park.”
“So you will have to be careful too.”
Richard finished the first note and looked up at his father. “Devil take it, I hadn't thought of that. But if I am in danger, I suspect I'm still fairly low on his list.”
“Let's hope so,” Philip said with a faint smile. “Although you seem remarkably unfazed by thoughts of your imminent death. In fact, you seem quite energized.”
Richard shrugged. “Perhaps I'm not quite as dull as you might think.”
“I never thought you dull.” Philip hesitated. “It was more as if you had lost something precious in France, and that life no longer seemed as enjoyable.”
“Why did you think that?”
“Because I know all about losing someone.”
Richard cleared his throat. “I thought Violet was dead and that it was my fault. I believed my life was over.”
“I never believed Helene was dead, but when I married your mother, Helene was certainly lost to me.” Philip busied himself rearranging the books on his desk. “We have both been blessed to rediscover what we thought lost.”
For the first time Richard imagined what it would have been like if he'd had to let Violet go and watch her marry someone else. Would he ever have been truly happy? Perhaps Violet's decision to end their relationship in such a final way had been a blessing in disguise.
He stared down at the sheet of paper and made himself write a note to Violet as well as Jack. Patrick Kelly, Seamus's brother, was guarding her and he would accompany her to Knowles House.
“I'll ask Violet and Patrick Kelly to meet us at the mews. It will give us time to go over our plans and make sure that this damned masquerade works perfectly.”
Â
Emily handed her cloak to the butler and smiled at him. It was almost time for the midday meal and appetizing smells were beginning to rise from the kitchen in the basement.
“Good morning, Mr. Blake, is my father in his study?”
“I regret to inform you that his lordship has gone out with Mr. Ross and the Lennox gentlemen.”
“Do you know when they will return?”
“I'm not certain, miss, but Madame Helene and Mrs. Lennox are upstairs. Perhaps her ladyship might know his lordship's intentions.”
Emily glanced at Ambrose, who nodded. “We'll go up to her. Thank you, Mr. Blake.”
“I'll bring you some refreshments, miss.”
Emily picked up her trailing skirt and headed up the stairs, with Ambrose behind her. She paused at the door to the drawing room and heard her stepmother's low voice within. After taking a deep breath, she went in.
“Good morning, Helene, Mrs. Lennox.”
Helene smiled at her. She wore a plain yellow muslin day dress and delicate lace cap that complemented her fair complexion. Emily had always secretly admired Helene's style but never managed to emulate it.
“Ah, Emily and Ambrose. How nice to see you both. Have you met Mrs. Lennox, Ambrose?”
“Yes, I have. How nice to see you again, ma'am.” Ambrose bowed to Mrs. Lennox, took a seat next to her, and they started to speak about the weather.
Emily sat next to Helene on the loveseat. “I was hoping to see Father, but I understand that he is out.”
“He is.” Helene took Emily's hand. “Have you come to tell him that your engagement to Jack Lennox was a sham and that you are in love with Ambrose?”
Emily narrowed her eyes at her smiling stepmother. “What makes you think that?”
“I hardly think you'd go to bed with a man you didn't love, my dear.”
“How do you know what . . .” Emily glared at Helene. “I suppose Christian was right all along. You do know everything. I can see where he gets it from now.”
Helene laughed. “I know about men and women, that's all, and I've been expecting this to happen for years. Ambrose has always been in love with you.”
“And I, him,” Emily sighed. “Now I have to tell Philip.”
“You can hardly think your father will object?”
“My father . . .” Emily stared across at Ambrose, who was smiling at something Mrs. Lennox had said. “That's the other reason I want to speak to him. When do you think he will be back?”
Helene sighed. “I have no idea. He has been hatching some ridiculous plan with Richard and the Lennox twins.”
Despite her own worries, Emily immediately leaned closer. “What kind of plan?”
Helene looked over at Mrs. Lennox and Ambrose, and then lowered her voice. “I'm not sure how much you know about the Lennox family, but they are in danger, particularly Vincent Lennox.”
“The man who is currently reported to be occupying Richard's bed?” Emily added.
“Vincent isn't a man. Her real name is Violet, and she is going to make Richard an excellent wife one day.” The certainty of Helene's tone made Emily gape at her. “Anyway, that isn't the main reason why they are plotting. Violet is supposed to kill Jack, and obviously she has no wish to do so.”
“He really is her twin?”
“Apparently. Richard and Jack have concocted a plan that will make it
look
as if Jack has been killed; but, of course, it will all be staged.”
“And what do they hope to gain from this ridiculous piece of melodrama?”
“I
believe
they are hoping to lure their prey into the open so that they can apprehend him.”
“And no one bothered to tell me about this? I'm supposed to be betrothed to Jack!”
Alerted by Emily's rising voice, Ambrose and Mrs. Lennox looked across at them.
“That is just typical of Richard to avoid including me in his plans,” Emily said.
“Would you want to be included?” Helene asked. “It might be dangerous.”
“Ha! Richard has always been the one who avoided danger, not me.” Emily stood up. “Where is this attempt to kill Jack Lennox supposed to take place?”
Helene glanced at the clock. “At three o'clock in Hyde Park when the
ton
are on display.” She patted the seat beside her. “Why don't you and Ambrose stay and have some luncheon with us, and then we'll all go to the park in my carriage?”
Emily sank back down into her seat. Cowardly as it might seem, it was a relief to be distracted from her own concerns and to speculate about Richard and his new love instead.
Â
“Are you ready, then?” Richard asked Jack and Violet, who both nodded. Violet looked far paler than her brother, which was not necessarily a bad thing, but caused Richard more anxiety. According to the stable yard clock, it was a quarter to three, and the sun had peeked through the clouds, offering a faint hint of warmth to the windy afternoon.
“Shall we proceed to the park?”
Philip mounted his showy chestnut gelding and clicked his tongue to get the horse in motion and out toward the entrance to the mews. Richard mounted, too, and waited for Violet to come up alongside him.
“Do you think it will work?” she asked him, her blue eyes anxious beneath the brim of her tall hat.
“I damn well hope so.” He held her gaze. “Even if it doesn't, I'm still going to keep you safe.”
Her mouth quirked up at the corner. “If I don't end up dead myself.”
“I won't allow that to happen.” He spoke with more confidence than he felt. They both knew that.
Behind them, Jack loudly cleared his throat while his horse sidled sideways as if eager to be off.
Richard reined back. “We'd better move out of the way and let Jack join Philip for their entrance into the park. We're not supposed to be anywhere near them at first.” He nodded at Jack. “Good luck.”
Jack grinned at them both as he moved smartly past. “See you in hell.”
Violet shivered, and Richard brought his horse as close to hers as he could, and said quietly, “It won't come to that. If anyone can pull this off, it is Jack.”
She regained her composure and smiled. “Indeed. I believe he was born for this moment.”
At her display of courage, he wanted to drag her off her horse, take her back to bed, and keep her there forever. No wonder he'd never looked at another woman. No one could compare to Violet. She was everything a man could ever want.
“What is it?”
He realized he must have been staring at her, and quickly gathered his reins in his gloved hand.
“Nothing, my love. Shall we proceed to the park?”
As they approached the fashionable throng, Richard realized that he and Violet were drawing far more attention that he had expected. He cast her a quizzical look.
“It seems that you were right about the gossip.”
She studied the curious faces turned toward them. “Do you want me to find someone else to talk to?”
“Let them stare. Perhaps it will distract them from seeing exactly what happens to your twin.”
“And direct suspicion more quickly onto me.”
“Whatever happens, I'll keep you safe, Vincent.” He nodded to an old acquaintance, who drew back as if Richard had blown him a kiss. “I think I see Helene's carriage over by the railings to your left. I knew she wouldn't be able to keep away.”
“Perhaps she has news for us. Do you want to approach her?”
Richard checked his pocket watch. “We have time before Jack appears, and time to stop him if my stepmother has miraculously come up with a name.”
“But you doubt that, don't you?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” He leaned down to knock on the closed window of the carriage. “Good afternoon, Helene, Mrs. Lennox. Have you any news for us?”
Helene leaned out of the carriage and the peacock feathers in her bonnet fluttered in the breeze. “Nothing that will change your plans, although you might wish to know that Emily and Ambrose accompanied us here and are out mingling with the crowds. Emily is most displeased with you.”
Richard groaned. “Emily would never forgive me for not involving her in this scheme.”
“I believe on this occasion she wishes to help, not hinder you,” Helene said.
“That remains to be seen. My sister has always been contrary.” He tipped his hat at Helene. “Onward, then.”
He waited until Violet spoke a few words to her stepmother and then shaded his eyes to watch the riders trotting up and down Rotten Row. He soon recognized Philip, who was an excellent rider, alongside Jack, who sat easily on his borrowed horse.
“We should get into position,” he murmured to Violet. “They are about to make the turn and come back down this way.”
Violet nodded and turned her horse toward the thickest part of the crowd, aware of Richard following her, their backs deliberately to the oncoming riders. She could hear the pounding hooves and the murmur of the crowd as one of the riders appeared to lose control of his horse.
Reluctantly, she turned back as the noise grew louder and saw Jack careening toward the mass of walkers, fighting the reins, already halfway off the side of the horse, who was running at a full gallop.