Wildfire Kiss (Sir Edward 1)

“Nonsense. If someone says such a thing, they aren’t a friend, and what do we want with such as that? No … it means naught. Those that know you didn’t have to be there to know you did nothing wrong.”

“Corry … oh Corry …” he said attempting to check his passion.

She kissed his lips lightly and drew away to take up the reins. “Let us not give those gossip mongers anything else to chew on, though.” A short laugh escaped her, and then she said, “I am so worried about my Babs.”

“Why? Can you confide in me? Perhaps I may be able to help?”

“She is being compelled to marry Sir Edward against her will.”

“Is she? I had not thought Lord Waverly … well, he seems to dote on her …”

“No, it isn’t her father who compels her. It is Sir Edward. He is blackmailing her into this union.”

“Blackmailed?” Freddy returned, shocked. “Dashed if I know how he could do that?”

“Oh … would that I could tell you!” she wailed.

***

Sir Charles patted his horse’s neck and eased him away from the park’s traffic. He looked at the duke with some concern. “Nick? I say, Nick, are you attending me?”

“What? Yes, of course. You think we should leave Brighton immediately. Heard you. Leave without a word to anyone and make our way back to London to scotch an assassination plot against the Prince Regent.”

Sir Charles opened his eyes wide. “Well, I must say you are taking the news rather oddly. I tell you that a plot to kill our Prince is underway, and you behave as though it is the merest commonplace.”

“Do I? That is because I believe the information you have received to be without foundation.”

“Since when have I ever been an alarmist?” Sir Charles sounded offended.

“Dash it, man, didn’t you find it odd … out of the blue, without prior intelligence, that this piece of news came into your hands?”

Charles frowned. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did find it odd … but can’t be ignored, you know.”

“Yes, but the Regent is here in Brighton—”

“No, he left this morning for an emergency meeting at the Home Office. We arranged for him to travel incognito.”

The duke barked a laugh. “What costume did he wear this time?”

“He wanted to dress up as a Spanish count, but we rather thought he would do better to appear to be a groom. He didn’t like that one bit.”

“No, I imagine he will reach the Home Office in a very bad humor.” The duke chuckled over the vision of his Prince in rags.

“So then, do we go together?” Charles pursued.

“Satisfy me on this—does Sidmouth know about this supposed threat to Prinny?”

“Nick, really! Do you think I would have come to you to join me in this if Sidmouth had not specifically requested you be brought in?”

The duke sighed. This was the worst possible timing. He had planned on visiting Lady Babs and getting to the heart of the problem without Sir Edward hovering about.

In fact, he had meant to get on one knee and tell her that he damned well didn’t want to live without her as his wife, even if the word wife frightened and thrilled him all at once.

Charles said, “Nick … whatever ails you?”

“There is someone I must see before we leave.”

“Ah, I thought as much. Babs.”