Twice Tempted (39 page)

“It’s official, then?” Fiona asked, her voice betraying her ambivalence only a little. “He knows enough math for you?”

Mairead’s expression collapsed into frustration. “Do you know, I do believe I am the only one who realizes.”

“What, sweetheart?”

“Why, how really brilliant he is.” Her smile returned, sharp, protective. Determined. “I’m not even certain he knows.”

“Then it will be your job to make certain that he does.” Fiona took her sister’s hand and wove fingers. “To paraphrase Mr. Bennett, I could not have parted with you, my Mae, to anyone less worthy.”

Mae squeezed hands, bouncing a bit. “I do not know how to feel, Fee. Is it all right to be frightened?”

“If you aren’t,” they heard from the door, “you’re daft.”

Mae spun around, her smile once again lambent. “You eavesdrop, sir. How did you know I wasn’t discussing personal matters?”

“You were,” Fiona retorted easily. “But I suppose a husband has some rights.”

Chuffy flushed brick red and ducked his head, sending the glasses sliding south. Mae skipped over to right them. Chuffy slipped an arm around her. “You don’t mind? Take care of her, y’know. More devoted than that Halberd fella.”

“Abelard,” both women answered.

Chuffy rubbed an ear. “Wrote your brother for permission. Proper and all. He said to ask you, Fee.”

“Me?” Fee echoed. “Why me?”

Chuffy frowned. “Well, ain’t you the oldest?”

She chuckled. “Heavens, no. Mae is, by a full seven minutes. Ask
her
.” She grinned. “Oh, wait. You did. That must mean we all approve.”

Gaining her feet, she leaned in to drop a kiss on the blushing man’s cheek. “I know I don’t have to threaten revenge if you don’t take care of her.”

His eyes twinkled. “Should I say the same to Alex? Waitin’ downstairs.”

“Make him write poetry,” Mae insisted. “Chuffy did for me.”

Fiona turned a surprised smile on him.

“Terrible stuff,” Chuffy huffed, still red-faced.

Mae stepped up to restore his glasses. “Do you really think the poem is more important than the poet?”

Mae paused, hand still extended, eyes going vague. Fiona wanted to chuckle. For their wedding gift, she suspected she was going to need to get them a sitter to make certain they didn’t simply wander off in thought and right over a cliff.

“Mae? Mae!” she called. Mae startled to attention, but Fiona could see that her sister was still distracted.

“All right, children,” she said, shooing them out the door. “Find me some clothing, please, Mae, or I will never see anyone.”

Which was when Chuffy realized that she was obviously
en déshabillé
. Huffing and muttering in his distress, he dragged Mae back out the door. “Get you…er…attire. Need to come down. Alex can’t come up. Ain’t proper, not engaged and all. Besides, Drake’s looking for you.”

And here Fiona had thought she was feeling better. Even so, it took her no more than thirty minutes to present herself at the library door, clad in the first pretty dress she’d had in months, a spring-green muslin with long sleeves and high ruffled neck, her hair pulled off her neck much as Mae’s was.

The first person Fiona saw upon entering Drake’s library was Lady Bea, standing foursquare before the desk, glaring. Fiona wanted to smile, but she could see the hurt in those gentle blue eyes.

“I am sorry, Bea,” she greeted her, hands out. “We didn’t want to leave. But we thought we could protect you.”

Bea’s eyes filled with tears and she squeezed Fiona’s hands. “Gudgeon.”

“Are we forgiven?”

For that she got a quick, convulsive hug. It was only as Lady Bea was stepping back that Fiona realized the room was actually rather crowded. Three gentlemen were standing at her arrival: Drake and Alex, seated opposite the Chippendale desk along with another empty chair, and one more gentleman, who sat comfortably ensconced in a deep red leather armchair.

“Sir Joseph!” Fiona greeted the older gentleman in surprise, walking up to take his hand. “What do you here, sir? How do you feel?”

He still looked tired and a bit pale, but far better than last she’d seen him. “Didn’t Dr. O’Roarke say that he was better than all the imbeciles in London?” he asked with a broad smile. “His foxglove cure was a miracle. He says that with good sense and moderation, I should regain my strength in no time.”

Her smile was heartfelt. “I am glad.”

Then it dawned on her that Alex had been holding incriminating letters, and that he’d meant to tell Drake. Her hand still in Sir Joseph’s, she turned a worried gaze toward the desk.

“It’s quite all right, my dear,” Sir Joseph said, reclaiming her attention. “All is known.”

Drake was not smiling, though. “Sir Joseph admits to playing deep games with his former daughter by marriage,” he said, an envelope in his hand that he tapped against the desk. “No one is pleased, but the matter is now moot. The lady is dead.”

Fiona instinctively looked to Alex. He held out a hand to her. Without thinking, she let go of Sir Joseph and reached for Alex like landfall after a storm. He wasn’t smiling, either, but his face had never frightened her. Now it soothed, reassuring her in ways words never could.

“He wanted to protect me,” Alex told her, claiming both hands and smiling down on her. “Every bit of information he shared was deliberately misleading. No one knew.”

“I’m afraid I used Amabelle in hopes I could reel in her contact,” Sir Joseph admitted ruefully. “Sadly, they almost reeled in my Alex instead.”

Fiona looked back and forth among the men, letting that information sink in. Suddenly, her knees seemed to soften, and she found herself sitting, gaze locked in on Alex’s earth-brown eyes. “Then you are…”

“Gudgeon,” Lady Bea repeated from where she was now seated beside Sir Joseph.

“An idiot,” Lord Drake growled, and everybody else took seats. “I would like to officially plead with the Knight men to forestall thinking they can protect the crown all on their own in the future. It is far too wearying. I have spent the last twelve hours correcting a misapprehension by a London sheriff that you two were bent on the violent overthrow of the government.”

As easy as that. As innocuous. Fiona’s heart beat a strong tattoo as it sank in. Alex was safe. His father was safe. Their activities at Hawes House had been worthwhile.

“My grandfather?” she asked, her voice pitiful.

Drake’s face became a mask. Alex held on more tightly. “We’re not sure,” he said. “It is being investigated. If only he hadn’t given you those codes himself, we might be able to assume some innocence.”

She blinked. “Himself? Alex, what would ever make you believe that my grandfather would hand anything to me himself except our marching papers? And I believe he only did that because Mr. Bryce-Jones was in London.”

Suddenly everyone was paying close attention. “Then who did you get them from?” Alex asked.

“From Mr. Bryce-Jones, of course. Along with our mail, our directions for the week, and our chastisements for petty offenses. The only reason I was there the day you came to tell us about Ian was that you asked for me before you asked for grandfather.”

The room stilled in a way that told Fiona she had said something very important. “You don’t think Mr. Bryce-Jones…”

“We don’t think anything until certain investigators get back from Yorkshire,” Drake said.

“Would you like me to help?”

“No!” all three men shouted at once.

She scowled. “You might want to rethink that. As Alex witnessed, I am no wilting flower. And I know everyone involved quite well. Think about it.”

Drake pinned her in his oddly sharp blue gaze. “I believe you have quite enough on your plate,” he said, his hands on an open file in front of him.

She’d meant to get to her feet. His words put paid to that.

“Oh, is it my turn, then?” she asked, dread curling in her belly. “My acts were in no way innocent, as you reminded me last night. Nor were they in service of the king.”

He looked away a bit, focused on the papers he held. She didn’t move, caught tightly in Alex’s clasp. Comforted more than he could know by his silent support.

“In point of fact,” Drake said, flipping the file closed, “both cases have been cleared. A clear case of self-defense with the knife, and the other…” He looked up, and Fiona finally saw real compassion in the man’s eyes. “Let’s just say that the Edinburgh police were not shocked or saddened at the gentleman’s demise.”

He slowly got to his feet. “Next time, though, you might find a less notorious poison to use. The symptoms of foxglove poisoning are evidently obvious to any Edinburgh-trained physician, since they are teaching the use of the substance in treating heart conditions.”

“And thank God for that,” Sir Joseph said with a smile as he, too, gained his feet. “Is that all, then?”

Drake shut the file on his desk. “It is. You all may go about your merry way. Hopefully, that will leave my poor domicile in peace.”

Alex helped Fiona to her feet. “Fee…,” he was saying, when the door slammed in and struck the wall. Alex was just pulling Fiona behind him as she bent for her knife, when in stalked Mae, Chuffy close on her heels.

“You cannot arrest my sister,” Mae declared like a tragedian onstage.

Drake leaned a hip on his desk, humor flickering at the edge of his expression. “I cannot?” He turned to Chuffy. “Do you have any idea what this is about?”

“None. Was sitting there talking about the wedding, and suddenly she leaps up, yells, ‘That’s it,’ and runs. Can’t wait to find out m’self.”

“Orange blossoms?” Bea echoed in excited tones.

“Hello, Lady Bea,” Chuffy and Mae greeted her in identically unflustered tones.

Drake sighed. Fiona, so recently relieved, almost giggled aloud. “I am quite safe, Mae,” she assured her sister. “In fact, we were just about finished here.”

“But you cannot be,” Mae protested, hands on hips. “I haven’t saved you.”

Fiona spread her arms. “You are a bit late. Lord Drake already did.”

Mae frowned. “Did Alex ask you to marry him?”

It was Fiona’s turn to blush. “No, not that it is any of your business. Why don’t we all decamp? Aren’t we late for luncheon?”

“Gut-foundered,” Bea said with a nod.

Mae was glaring at Alex. “Why not? Do you have cold feet? Are you afraid of being stuck with me as well? You won’t. Chuffy will.”

“But I did ask,” Alex protested easily. “I have not been answered.”

Everybody turned to Fiona, who wanted to sink into the ground. “That,” she told her sister with a meaningful glare, “is not a topic for a crowd.”

Mae turned back to Alex. “You’ll take care of her? You have an estate? Money in the funds? Family? I have the right to ask.”

“She
is
the oldest,” Fiona said with an escaped giggle. The day was becoming far too outrageous.

“She is?” Drake retorted, as surprised as everyone.

“That’s what I hear,” Alex said, not looking away from Mae, who still stood, arms akimbo, in the middle of the Oriental carpet, Chuffy at her elbow. “Well, you’ve met my father.…” He pointed. Mae and Sir Joseph exchanged nods. “And when you get married, you will frequently see my estate.”

She scowled. “Frequently? Why? Chuffy has his own place.”

He cocked an eyebrow at Chuffy. “Didn’t you tell her?”

Chuffy shrugged. “Didn’t think of it.” He turned to Mae. “Next door.”

Fiona’s attention was definitely caught. “Next door? Next door to what?”

Alex grinned. “Chuffy. His estate runs with mine. He and I met when I used to summer at my uncle’s preparing to be his heir. If it weren’t for Chuff, I wouldn’t have had any fun at all.”

Chuffy nodded brightly. “Parents love him. Think he is perfect.”

Alex grinned. “He is.”

Chuffy was the one Mae glared at now. “He is not. You are.”

Chuffy grinned at her. “Not. Don’t care so much anymore. Now, need to let Alex get to business. In the way.”

Mae made one last stand. “Make her marry you,” she said with a finger raised in Alex’s decision. “She needs you. So do I. I can’t marry until I know she’s happy, and right now she isn’t happy. So get to it. Or I won’t tell you how I figured out your code.”

She almost made it out the door before everyone reacted.

“Wait!” Fiona cried along with the rest of them, including Chuffy, who seemed as surprised as everyone else. “What do you mean?”

But Mairead didn’t turn back to Fiona. She turned instead to Chuffy, her eyes preternaturally bright with the triumph of discovery. “You really didn’t guess?” she asked. “I figured it out when you spoke of your own poem.”

Alex choked. “You…wrote a poem?”

Mae glared at him. “It is a beautiful poem. Likening Fee and me to twin stars.”

Smiling on Mae as if she had just discovered the new world, Chuffy had Mae’s hands in his, and Fee thought, suddenly, how they now were twin stars themselves, shoving Fee out of orbit. She laid her hand against the fresh pain in her chest. Mae had taken the big step away. She had turned to Chuffy first. Fee had thought she would never live to see it. She hadn’t realized how sour her hope had grown until it was swept clean by the excitement Mae and Chuffy hoarded between them.

“I knew it,” Chuffy crowed, squeezing Mae’s hands. “Figured all along you’d be the one to do it. What part of the blasted thing is it?”

Mae grinned, looking supremely satisfied with herself. “No part.”

Chuffy actually howled. “It’s not the poem? After all this work?”

Mae gently pushed his glasses up. “I didn’t say that. I said it wasn’t a part of it.”

“Well, what does that mean?” Drake asked, his patience worn thin.

But he was ignored. Fiona knew she and Chuffy were frozen in similar poses, eyes off to the side as they both attempted to once again see that little leather-bound book. Fifteen calfskin pages, leather binding, words printed in gilt letters on the cover.
Virtue’s Grave; Worshipping at the Altar of Hymen by William Marshall Hilliard
. Not the poem. Not the title; they had tried that, too.

Leather. Gilt. Cover.

She and Chuffy grinned at the same time. “The poet!”

Mae actually laughed. “The ordinal in each stanza shows you how to use the key. Skip the first letter, the first two, none. The key is his name. It works beautifully. Did you know that Pippin’s friend is on a list? So is Lady Mercer Elphinstone, the princess’s particular friend. And you need to find those guns before they’re used.”