Twenty
Her heart torn in two, Monique stood in her bedchamber making herself “presentable.” She didn’t know how to interpret Gregory’s proposal of marriage. Had he meant what he’d said? Or was it merely part of his rules of honor that said he must offer for any virgin whose innocence he took? He certainly hadn’t voiced any eagerness to marry her out of love.
She sighed. She would adore being Gregory’s wife, being loved by Gregory. Because somewhere along the way she’d fallen in love with him, however unwisely. He might be a proud, hardheaded Englishman, but he was also kind. And protective. And so sweetly passionate that . . .
Tears welled in her eyes, and she brushed them away ruthlessly. Marriage was impossible, and they both knew it. So it didn’t matter if she loved him or not. Their paths were set, and those paths went in opposite directions.
As soon as she’d changed out of her riding habit, she headed downstairs. As she reached the ground floor, she heard an unfamiliar male voice speaking rather pompously. So it was unlikely to be the constable.
Her blood stilled. Prince Leopold?
Pasting a smile on her lips, she sailed into the foyer, where stood not only a man royally bedecked, but also, inexplicably, Mr. Danworth, along with Gregory.
“Ah, here she is.” Gregory cast Prince Leopold a thin smile. “I understand that you have not yet met the princess?”
Prince Leopold regarded her with a keen interest that gave her pause. “Sadly, no.”
Gregory swiftly performed the introductions, although it seemed rather pointless, since each was well aware of the other’s identity.
Smiling amiably, the prince stepped forward to take her hand. “It is a very great pleasure to meet you, Princess. I would have arranged a meeting sooner if I’d known how very lovely you are.”
As he lifted her hand to his lips for a kiss, she had to admit he was quite attractive. From what her great-uncle had told her, he was at least forty, yet not a strand of gray streaked his hair, and he dressed quite well. He also had an air of command about him that reminded her vaguely of Gregory.
Still, his compliments gave her pause. Why would he be interested in her—in Aurore—after she’d supposedly rejected him? “It’s good to finally meet you, too, Your Highness,” she said blandly.
Lady Ursula rushed into the foyer, then halted. With widening eyes, she smiled at Prince Leopold. “Cousin! How wonderful to see you here at last!”
A change came over him that arrested Monique’s attention. “Indeed,” he said, rather dismissively, making poor Lady Ursula pale. Then he turned to Monique. “I’m fatigued from my journey, Princess, but I do hope to enjoy your company at dinner.”
She nodded, aware that Gregory was scowling most unwisely. “I would be honored, sir.”
The prince turned to Mr. Danworth. “Thank you for joining me in my carriage. I would never have found the place otherwise.”
Mr. Danworth nodded. “I was happy to help, Your Highness.”
How strange. The two men were cordial, to be sure, but they didn’t seem to be the great friends Lady Ursula had described. Were they putting on a show? Or had Lady Ursula simply been lying about their friendship?
She could tell from Gregory’s face that similar thoughts were passing through his head. But he merely ordered the servants to show the prince to his room.
As soon as Prince Leopold was gone and Lady Ursula and Mr. Danworth had headed up to their own rooms to dress for dinner, Gregory came to her side.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She stiffened. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Gazing up the staircase to where his guests had disappeared, he said, “I don’t know. But clearly something is going on with the prince and Danworth.”
“Lady Ursula said they were friends, but they didn’t seem friendly to me.”
“Exactly. It worries me. The constable told me—” He caught himself.
“What did he tell you?”
His gaze grew shuttered. “Nothing. At least, nothing that I’m sure of the meaning of yet.”
She understood; she wasn’t sure what anything meant yet.
Before she could remark on his words, the entrance opened and his mother came in, laughing along with the count, who looked thoroughly enamored.
“Mother!” Gregory said sharply. “Where the devil have you been?”
“We were having a very pleasant time in town,” Gregory’s mother said, with a knowing glance at Monique’s great-uncle.
The count smiled down at her. “We were, indeed. Your mother is a delightful woman, Fulkham.”
When Gregory bristled, Monique had to suppress a laugh. Clearly, he didn’t approve of any possible relationship between his mother and the count. But Monique thought it was sweet. Much as she resented the count’s behavior toward her and Grand-maman, she also recognized that he needed a softening influence.
Like Lady Fulkham.
“Tell me,” Gregory said in a firm tone, “was Danworth with you the entire day you were in Canterbury?”
The count and Lady Fulkham exchanged a glance. Then Lady Fulkham shrugged. “We lost track of him quite early. I’m not sure where he went.”
Gregory’s jaw tightened. “I see. Well then, that is that.”
What an odd thing to say. But with no more information to go on, Monique didn’t know what to make of it.
“Dinner is in less than an hour,” he added. “Perhaps you two should go upstairs to change clothes.”
“Oh!” his mother said. “Of course.” She cast the count a flirtatious glance. “I do hope you will sit next to me at dinner.”
The count took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. “I would be honored, my lady.”
Gregory rolled his eyes. And as soon as the pair had disappeared up the stairs, separately, he said, “What is your great-uncle up to, Monique?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps he just likes your mother.”
“I doubt that,” Gregory ground out. “He has some reason for flirting with her, I’m sure.”
The remark made her sad. “That’s the trouble with you, Gregory. Everyone you work with has an ulterior motive, usually political. But sometimes people just want to be with other people for no reason beyond simple liking.” Or loving.
He stared at her. “I don’t trust your uncle.”
She shrugged. “I don’t trust him either. But he appears to like your mother a great deal. And I think those feelings are genuine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Not all of us are trying to use our gender to gain something, you know. Sometimes we just desire certain people because we desire them.”
As he gaped at her, clearly skeptical about the idea of his mother desiring anyone, she left him to mount the stairs. If he couldn’t even accept that his mother might wish to find a companion, then what was the chance he would accept that she did?
Once the constable had finished questioning the duke, Gregory had packed the man off, promising to learn more about why Danworth was looking into the death of his father.
Gregory considered speaking to the count about this latest attempt on Monique’s life, but that would only make the man want to return to London right away, and Gregory wasn’t sure that was wise. He still needed to do some more investigation.
Dinner that night was interminable. The shooting was discussed at length, but thankfully everyone accepted his story that he’d been the target. Except perhaps for the count, who looked thoughtful. But no one else gave away anything that could help him figure out who’d been behind the attempt on Monique’s life.
Gregory also couldn’t help noticing that Prince Leopold was enormously interested in Monique. And why wouldn’t he be? She was a vivacious and clever beauty who knew how to engage any man’s attention.
In truth, she would be wise to court the prince’s affections. If Aurore died and Monique eventually took her place, then Leopold would be well served by having her as his wife. Was that Monique’s aim?
Gregory watched her avidly, jealousy burning in his chest. But to be fair, she showed no true interest in the prince. It was Gregory she fixed upon. Gregory whom she deferred to.
Clearly, he was a fool, vacillating about what she wanted. Whom she wanted. It was clear that he was the only man who had her affections.
Very well, then he would make sure that the way was paved for the two of them. Even if it meant changing his hopes for the future.
With that in mind, he asked Danworth to join him in his study after the ladies retired to the drawing room. It was time to figure out where the prime minister’s secretary stood in all this. And why Danworth had questioned the constable about Gregory’s father.
When Danworth entered his study, he seemed wary. Not surprising, given what Gregory had learned. Did the fellow realize that Gregory knew so much? Did he care?
“What is this about, Fulkham?” Danworth demanded, clearly on the defensive.
Gregory forced a smile. “You tell me. I understand that you’ve been asking in town about the circumstances surrounding my father’s death.”
Danworth fixed him with a dark glance. “I have, indeed.”
Surprising that the man was admitting it.
The fellow crossed his arms over his chest. “The constable told me that your father died as a result of a tumble down the stairs while he was drunk.”
“Yes,” Gregory said tersely. “My father was often drunk. What has that got to do with anything?”
“Well, I asked the constable why no one ever suspected your mother of causing your father’s death, and he said that they knew for certain that she’d had nothing to do with it. That if anyone had killed him, it was a male.” Danworth smirked at him. “Because when your father was found, he was clutching a button in his hand. And not the sort of button found on a woman’s attire. A boy’s button.”
Gregory’s blood ran cold. The night of his father’s murder, he’d lost a button off the school jacket he’d been wearing when he’d defended his mother. He’d looked for the button, but hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. So he’d assumed it had been lost somewhere in the depths beneath the staircase.
No one had ever told him it had been found on the body. But then, he’d been too young for anyone to consider making him privy to the investigation. “A boy’s button? How in God’s name could anyone be sure of that?”
“Well, the constable wasn’t, because he didn’t recognize the design. He said it must have been from a servant who was trying to keep his lordship from falling. Fortunately, I knew better. I could see that it came from an Eton jacket.”
Oh, God, the constable had actually shown the arse the button. “I don’t see why that matters.” Gregory hoped he sounded far more bored and nonchalant than he felt.
“It matters,” Danworth said as he approached Gregory, “because since the constable still has the button, it could easily be called into evidence.”
“To prove what?” Gregory said. “That my father was tossed down the stairs by some anonymous Etonian?”
His sarcastic tone didn’t seem to faze Danworth. “I’m saying that you are the person who tossed your father down the stairs. I’m saying you killed your father.”
Gregory fought the sick feeling swelling in his belly. “Ah, I see. And why would I do that?”
Danworth shrugged. “I have no clue. But I do know one thing. If word got out about this, you’d be ruined.”
That was certainly true. “Assuming that anyone would believe it.” Gregory stared the man down. “And who would? Especially since I was away at Eton at the time.”
“You were not. You had come home for the holiday already.”
Gregory tensed. “What makes you think so?”
With a smirk, Danworth circled the study. “I found someone in Canterbury who remembered seeing you on your way home.” He lifted an eyebrow. “A certain shopkeeper was adamant that you passed through town the very night your father died. He saw you looking out of a coach window. Imagine that.”
“Imagine that, indeed,” Gregory clipped out, his tone cold. “Some shopkeeper thought he saw me peering out of a coach window on a night more than twenty years ago? Assuming that I did anything wrong, which I did not, no court in the world would convict me on the basis of such flimsy evidence.”
Danworth snorted. “I’ve no need to prove it in court. I merely need to prove it in the court of public opinion, and I damned well have enough evidence to do that. Any insinuation of your being involved in your father’s death would ruin you in politics for decades to come. Especially if the papers got hold of it.”
Gregory certainly couldn’t refute that. “So what do you want from me?” he snapped. “I assume that you want something or you wouldn’t have gone to such trouble to drum up this ridiculous tale.”
Danworth marched toward him. “I want only one thing from you. It would cost you very little. I want you to throw the weight of your influence behind Prince Leopold to be chosen ruler of Belgium. Not Princess Aurore.”
That told Gregory two things. One, Danworth was still unaware of “Princess Aurore’s” true identity. And two, the man might very well be behind the attacks on Aurore’s and Monique’s lives.
What a pity that he couldn’t prove it. Danworth might have been missing for part of the day, but Gregory somehow couldn’t see the man hiding in the woods in an attempt to assassinate Monique. Or lurking about in Hyde Park for the same purpose.
Still, Danworth was a damned good shot, so it was conceivable. And it didn’t rule out the possibility that the man had hired someone to do the deed for him.
But before he accused Danworth of anything, he needed more information. “Why are you determined to put Leopold on the throne?”
Danworth crossed his arms over his chest. “As you know quite well, Wellington is about to lose his position as prime minister. As long as I remain tied to him, I will lose any chance of advancement.” Bitterness crept into his tone. “I’ll end up an aging private secretary to an ancient relic of a politician, whose only usefulness is in writing his memoirs. But if Leopold becomes king of the Belgians, he has promised me a post there worthy of my talents. No more toadying to the likes of Wellington, no more putting up with nonsense from lords like you.”
“And all you have to do to gain your post is to blackmail me.”
The bloody arse shrugged. “You may call it blackmail if you wish. I would call it quid pro quo. A favor for a favor. I keep silent about your family secrets and you put your influence behind Leopold.”
“I see. And whose idea was it to ask for this ‘favor’? Yours? Or the prince’s?”
“Leopold knows naught of this. But I daresay he’d have no quarrel with it if he did.”
Gregory wished he could be sure of the truth of either of those statements. “And what about attempted murder?” He bore down on Danworth. “Does he know about that little strategy of yours for eliminating his competitors?”
A slight twitching of the man’s eyelid gave Danworth away, though he stood his ground. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t attempted to murder anyone.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you. As you already know, we’re here in the country precisely because someone shot at the princess in Hyde Park a few days ago.”
“I thought you said you were the target?”
“You know damned well I was not.”
Danworth stared coldly at him. “I was nowhere near Hyde Park then. Ask Wellington.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to.” And while he was at it, he would ask if Danworth had been dispatched to Calais around the time of the princess’s poisoning. “But even if you had nothing to do with that attempt, I know you damned well had something to do with the second attempt on the princess’s life this morning.”
“I don’t even have a gun with me. How could I possibly have shot at the princess?” Danworth snapped, though sweat broke out on his brow.
Gregory pressed his advantage. “According to my mother, you conveniently disappeared for most of the shopping trip. Which makes you the only one of my guests not accounted for during the attack.”
“Your mother?” Danworth snorted. “She was so busy cozying up to Beaumonde that she wouldn’t have noticed if I had been there.”
“Do I detect a note of jealousy?” Gregory said, seizing on his opponent’s weakness. “Were you hoping to feather your nest by gaining my mother’s affections yourself?”
Though Danworth colored, he shook his head. “I have no need of a wife so much older than I, sir. I can have any woman I want.”
“True. Which is why I question your flirtations with her. Or were you perhaps hoping that she might tell you something about my father’s death that you couldn’t learn by deceiving the constable?”
He saw he’d hit his mark when Danworth’s jaw flexed. “No deception was required. The man was more than ready to reveal what he knew.”
“Because you told him you were an investigator from London interested in implicating my mother. You knew that would make him provide an alternate view of the crime.”
“I knew that would make him tell the truth.” Danworth drew himself up. “In any case, it doesn’t matter. You can’t prove I did anything wrong—you’re just lashing out because I’ve uncovered your nasty little secret.” He strode up to Gregory with a menacing smile. “You’ve heard my terms. If you wish to continue in your present career, then you must advocate for Leopold when we return. Otherwise, I will reveal to the world the truth about how your father died. And what your part in it was.”
Gregory desperately wanted to tell the arse to go to hell, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t just he who would suffer. It was Mother. And Monique, if she chose to marry him.
“Well then,” Gregory said noncommittally, “I suppose I have a decision to make.”
“You do, indeed. Just be sure to make the right one, my lord. Or I swear I will make you and yours regret it.”
And with that, the arse walked out.