The Viscount's Rose (The Farthingale Series Book 5) (20 page)

“Sir,” Julian said,
his concern growing as he was kept standing in the presence of the Prince Regent, enduring his questions for the last half hour, “we must act now. As I’ve explained repeatedly, Countess Deschanel knows something is amiss and even now must be alerting her agents to flee.”

Prinny arched an eyebrow and glanced at the ormolu clock perched on his elegant desk. “No one else has noticed any movement out of the ordinary these past three days while you were in the countryside and not a single agent has sent warning today. No, you’re needlessly fretting. Despite your suspicions, I believe the incident is nothing more than a lover’s spat. You were caught enjoying the company of a sweet young thing and the countess became enraged. Tell me about the Farthingale girl. I hear she’s beautiful.”

He didn’t wish to discuss Rose with anyone, especially not Prinny, who was known for his roving eye. “I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “Mostly she’s headstrong and unsophisticated.”

Prinny arched an eyebrow. “No wonder the countess is worried about you. It’s obvious that you like the girl. Don’t bother to deny it.”

Bloody nuisance.
Could everyone see straight into his heart?

“Forget her for now and attend to your mission. You’ve hurt Countess Deschanel’s feelings and now must soothe her.”

Julian snorted. “That woman has no feelings. She has discarded me and—”

Prinny slapped his hand down on the desk. “Enough, Chatham! Do you expect us to leap into action on your mere say so? What’s happened is nothing more than a squabble between you and your jealous countess. Set it right and go on about your business. We’re too close to shutting down Boney’s entire operation to stop now. I’m not about to let you toss it all away because your affections have strayed.”

Julian gritted his teeth but knew better than to provoke Prinny any further. Fortunately, their argument was halted by a sharp rap at the door. “That will be Lord Malinor come to lecture me on the woeful state of our treasury.”

Julian frowned. He wasn’t fond of England’s newly appointed finance minister, a self-important prig if there ever was one. “He shouldn’t see me here. I’ll go out the back way.”

“Stay. He can help put you back in the good graces of your countess. The man has a penchant for gossip to rival that of the dreaded Lady Withnall. No one keeps secrets from her. Perhaps you ought to enlist her services for this investigation.” Prinny laughed at his own remark, but Julian didn’t find it witty in the least. “Stop scowling at me, Chatham, and do as I say. We’ll turn Malinor’s loose tongue to your advantage.” Now enamored of his idea—one that Julian didn’t like at all—Prinny smiled as he turned toward the door. “Enter!”

The royal steward strode in, followed by Lord Malinor, who strutted in like a peacock. His silk trousers were a striking mint green and his silk brocade jacket a blinding clash of colors including mint green, violet, and azure blue, all shot through with gold thread. He wore a fanciful powdered white wig and too much perfume. French, no doubt. Smuggled into England, no doubt. Such goods had been embargoed since the war began. “Your Royal Highness,” Lord Malinor intoned with breathless gravity as he performed an obsequious bow.

Prinny glanced at Julian and grinned before returning his attention to the finance minister. “Malinor, you’ve come at just the right time. I require your assistance.”

He bowed low again. “I’m ever at your service.”

“Good. Good, for this young pup requires your guidance. You’d be doing me a great favor if you helped him out.”

Malinor straightened, his expression flustered. “Of course, anything to please Your Royal Highness. How can I be of assistance to Viscount Chatham?”

“He’s lovesick and the countess in question has just spurned him. He came to me hoping I might sway her, but my schedule is too busy these next few days and I fear Chatham will expire from a malady of the heart if his problem isn’t addressed immediately.”

Lord Malinor looked at him askance. “I assume we are speaking of the beautiful Countess Deschanel? Has she tossed you aside, Chatham?”

“Let’s just say we had a spat.” Julian noticed a swirl of expressions in Lord Malinor’s features, some he understood and others he thought odd. Malinor obviously thought his predicament amusing, curious, surprising. But there was also a flash of fear, just a momentary glint in his eyes and then it was gone.

“Did you give her cause?” Malinor eyed him a little too avidly.

“None, I assure you.” The old man was still eyeing him intently. What was his interest in Valentina? Julian didn’t think they knew each other beyond a passing acquaintance. They were invited to many of the same society functions, but that signified nothing. Those in the nobility were often invited to the same events.

However, Malinor and Valentina never attended the same intimate dinner parties or joined in the same excursions to the theater or gaming hells. No, Malinor would not be seen with Valentina’s fast crowd, but neither was he a pillar of sainthood. Quite the opposite, he had an eye for the ladies, especially the young, beautiful ones. Julian always kept close watch on Nicola whenever that old hound was about. He always seemed to be leering and in his cups.

Malinor’s jowls wobbled as he shook his head and sighed. “But she must have had a reason to toss you out on your ear.”

“I left her side to escort my uncle to his country estate. She didn’t appreciate that I was gone for three days.” He put a hand to his heart, doing his best to appear a distraught suitor. “I assure you, Malinor. I never strayed. I love her.”

Malinor eyed him even more intently. “You do?”

He nodded. “I even bought her a ring. I wish to…” Damn, he couldn’t say it. “Her rejection has gravely wounded me. I must win her back. I’ll do anything she asks of me.”

Prinny let out a bark of laughter. “See, the man is lost without her. Do help him out of his misery. I can’t bear to see him like this. But he’s under the Emory curse and can’t help himself.”

“The Emory curse? Sire, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of it.”

Prinny laughed again. “Calm yourself, Malinor, it isn’t the pox. Every Emory male falls hard for one woman and loves her forever. That’s their curse.” He turned to Julian. “Run along now and lick your wounds at home. Lord Malinor will correspond with your countess and soothe her hurt feelings. Hopefully, she’s the forgiving sort.”

Julian bowed, but he wasn’t grateful to Prinny for this attempt to put him back in good stead with Valentina. She would now have more time to warn her agents. He cursed silently. Now Malinor was involved. He hoped Prinny had more sense than to confide in that pompous oaf.

True, he was England’s finance minister, but that didn’t mean he could be trusted. For one, the man drank too much. Secrets could be pried out of him and he’d be none the wiser. For another thing, Malinor and his son were arrogant, ambitious men. They put their interests before those of anyone else and would never extend a helping hand to another unless it served to benefit them in some way.

“Be gone, Chatham! The finance minister and I have more important matters to discuss than your romantic woes.”

Julian strode out of St. James Palace in worse temper than when he arrived. Not only had Prinny dismissed him, but he’d now assigned Malinor to assist him in rekindling a romance he was desperate to extinguish.

On Prinny’s command, he was obliged to accept Lord Malinor’s invitation to share a drink with him at White’s later that evening. Reluctantly, and still in ill humor, he strode into the club at the appointed hour. He’d long been a member at White’s, but tonight he found the elegant establishment oppressive.

The gleaming, oiled wood bookshelves and tables, the well-worn leather chairs, and even the elegant carpets that muffled all sound in the private rooms made him feel as though he were walking into a mausoleum. The heavy scent of cigar smoke filtered into the entry hall, and not a sound could be heard except for the occasional rustle of newspapers coming from the club’s reading room.

Indeed, he felt as though the walls were closing in on him. He wanted nothing better than to ride back to Darnley Cottage and spend the rest of the summer rusticating in those idyllic surroundings, his hair tousled by a pine-scented summer breeze while he enjoyed the laughter of his brothers and sisters at play in the garden… while he held Rose in his arms and kissed her with the same abandon as he’d done last night. Was that too much to ask?

Lord Malinor harrumphed as Julian entered their private room, escorted in by a stodgy, white-haired footman. “Have a seat, Chatham. Let’s get down to business.”

The overstuffed brown leather crackled as Julian settled into his chair and stretched his long legs before him. “Let’s not,” he said, declining the brandy Lord Malinor was about to pour. The man was dressed in yellow silk this evening and sported a large, flame-red ruby ring on his plump middle finger. “I don’t require your help in wooing Countess Deschanel and I would appreciate your not getting involved.”

Malinor shrugged and poured himself a glass. “Much as I would like to be rid of this duty, I must see it through on Prinny’s orders. So, let’s speak frankly, one man to another. You can tell me if you’re involved with another woman.”

“There is no other woman,” he said, irritated to have to play the part of wounded lover. “That’s what has me so distraught. How can I prove what doesn’t exist?”

His companion winked at him. “Well said, now let’s get to the truth. What have you been playing at, Chatham?”

Julian sighed. “I’m no rake, nor have I ever had a roving eye. I will speak no more on the subject. You may tell Prinny whatever you wish. I’ve done nothing wrong and I hope in time the lady in question will come to realize it.”

“How much time will you give her?” he asked, arching his powdered eyebrow.

Julian withdrew the small box containing the ring he’d purchased earlier and toyed with it in his fingers. “As long as she needs. This ring won’t turn to waste and I expect it will take me quite some time to find another lady who might have more respect for me,” he paused and nodded toward the box, “or for this gift I’d happily bestow on her.”

Lord Malinor gazed into the amber liquid in his crystal glass. “You speak like a heartbroken lover and yet there are rumors of your dallying with that Farthingale girl. Not that I would blame you, she’s a tempting bauble—”

Julian jolted up in his seat. “With all due respect, Lord Malinor, you are treading on dangerous ground. You may say whatever you wish about me, but I shall call you out if you ever insult my sister’s dearest friend. Whatever slanderous gossip you’ve heard is nonsense. If you ever treat her or speak of her as anything other than a lady, I shall stuff your entrails—”

“Egads, Chatham!” He set down his glass and raised his hands in mock surrender. “If there’s nothing to the rumor, then why are you so protective of the girl?”

“Surely you’ve heard that I saved her life.” Not quite true, for Rose would have made her way safely out of the demolished shed eventually, whether or not he had been present. Still, he’d carried her out and tended to her injuries. That counted for something, didn’t it? And he’d scared the stuffing out of Sir Milton Aubrey, the perpetrator who’d sabotaged her kiln. The dastard knew better than to show his face in England again, on pain of death at Julian’s hand.

“She must have been grateful.”

“She and her family thanked me. That’s it. She’s a nice girl from a decent family but has very little social polish. She’s very pretty, but Countess Deschanel is dazzling. Surely, you agree. How can the two compare? Miss Farthingale is a quaint pearl, but the countess is a diamond of the first water.”

“Very well,” he said with a chortle. “I’m duly chastened.”

“Since we now understand each other, I’ll be off to the theater with friends.” He rose to signal an end to their conversation. “Care to join us, Malinor?”

“Who are you going with?”

“Lord and Lady Chester, Lady Bainbridge, and her nephew, Lord Randall.”

Lord Malinor rolled his eyes. “No. What are you doing in the company of those old fossils?”

“Randall’s my age.”

“He behaves like a doddering old man. John Randall is one of the dullest men I’ve ever met. All he talks about is hunting grouse in Scotland or wild boar in the forests of Saxony.”

Julian nodded. “I thought I’d invite him to Darnley Cottage when I return there at the end of the week to escort my family back to London. He enjoys fishing and our stream is well stocked with—”

“Spare me, Chatham. No wonder the countess wants nothing more to do with you. I never realized you were so deadly dull.” He sighed and rose with him. “I’ll put in a good word for you should I happen to see her, but otherwise I’ll keep out of your business. However, the blame is on you if Prinny finds out I’ve done nothing to advance your cause.”

“Agreed.” Julian nodded. “Thank you.”

He left White’s and hopped in his carriage to join his friends at Vauxhall Gardens before they all headed off to the theater on Drury Lane. He was late. He and John Randall had much to discuss, for John was one of the most respected agents in Prinny’s royal circle of spies. The elders in their entourage served as a cover for their activities, lending an air of genteel respectability and allowing them to plan their next steps under cover of social engagements.

John tossed him a questioning glance as he approached. “Got rid of Malinor?”

Julian nodded. “For the moment. Hopefully, for good. There’s something about the man I don’t trust.”

“I never thought much of him either.” John grinned. “He detests me, thinks I’m a crushing bore.”

Julian shook his head and laughed. “You’ve perfected your cover, the dull nephew who’s devoted to his elderly aunt, your only pleasure being hunting, which is something you drone on and on about until everyone present is put to sleep by your aimless blather.”

“My aunt,” he said, nodding toward Lady Bainbridge, “quite enjoys the charade, although she worries that I’ll never find the right girl while I’m forced to remain in character. I haven’t minded so far. Haven’t yet come across the young lady who knocks the breath out of me. Why are you suddenly frowning?”