Evangeline wasn’t at all surprised. It was more than likely that John Edgerton was responsible for their being here, not Lady Pemberly. She looked toward the duke, wishing she could apologize to him. For what she’d done. For what she would do to him. For what she wasn’t and would never be.
“I try to do my best,” Lady Pemberly said, and smiled widely, showing several missing teeth in the back of her mouth. She rose, shaking out her stiff purple satin skirts; surely the purple was just what Mrs. Raleigh would appreciate. “I trust that Bassick has seen to laying four more settings. I, for one, am ready for my dinner.”
She turned to bend an autocratic look at Evangeline. “The duke tells me that you wish to remain at Chesleigh as Edmund’s nanny. I was expecting a faded, very bland girl with a tepid temperament and no pretense to beauty. You are not what I expected. At my age, the unexpected could result in my heart stopping, and that is something I wouldn’t like at all.” “Never would we want that,” the duke said. “Now, as to Evangeline, she did arrive a rather sickly-looking mouse sort of lady. Just look at her now. Not even twenty-four ho
urs in my company and she is blossoming, like a, er, daffodil.” He rubbed his fingers over his jaw, clearly a pose. “Isn’t that the yellow, rather stringy flower?”
“I wouldn’t say that Madame is at all stringy,” said Felicia. “On the contrary.”
“I look to you for continued support, Felicia,” Evangeline said.
Lady Pemberly actually snorted. “Support, you say? That’s an uncertain commodity from Miss Loose Lips. I’ll probably be ready for my grave before I find a husband for her, one, preferably, who is deaf. I only brought her, and not one of the available other charming young ladies with me this evening, so the duke wouldn’t accuse me of sticking my nose into his business. However, my nose is already stuck. You are still unwed, Richard. Only one heir won’t do. Pay attention now, my boy. Not another word will pass my lips about your black behavior over the past weeks. Your poor mama is at her wit’s end trying to jolly you out of your mood.”
The duke pulled the bell cord rather viciously, Evangeline thought. What black mood? She remembered then he hadn’t been all that was charming when he’d come upon her in his library the night before. Had something happened?
She found out quickly enough when Lord Pettigrew said quietly, “I’m sorry, Richard. We still haven’t caught the man who murdered Robbie Faraday. We know there is a spy in the ministry, but as to his identity, there’s still no clue. Who am I trying to fool? There are probably many more than just one spy. It’s driving everyone frantic.”
Evangeline said slowly, “But I don’t understand, Lord Pettigrew. Napoleon isn’t there to torment us anymore. He’s incarcerated on Elba. Why are there still spies?”
She knew that John Edgerton was looking at her, his eyes faintly puzzled. Why? Because she was fishing in waters that could easily drown her? He was afraid she’d turn on him?
Drew Halsey, Lord Pettigrew, smiled at the very beautiful woman who was nearly his height. “Whenever there is more than one man, Madame, there is more than one idea. Once there are two ideas, both fiercely held, then there will be great disagreement. There are still those who want Napoleon returned to the throne of France. There is still a comprehensive spy network working diligently for his return.”
“And one of these spies murdered a man that the duke knows?” “Yes, Robert Faraday was a good friend to us all.” “You, Lord Pettigrew, you work for the government?”
“Yes, I do. So does John and so does the duke upon occasion.”
She simply couldn’t believe it. How could Houchard expect her to accomplish anything when the duke was so involved, and not simply a disinterested aristocrat? A friend of his had been murdered. Perhaps murdered by John Edgerton. Or even ordered by Houchard.
“Indeed,” said John Edgerton. “We all do what we can, isn’t that right, Evangeline?”
“Enough,” the duke said. He hated thinking about Robbie, about his needless death. It gnarled his in-sides, made him so furious he wanted to yell.
“Let us hie ourselves to the dining room,” the duke said.
Chapter 14
“Come with me to the library for a brandy.” It was late, after eleven o’clock. She’d heard the loud downstairs clock chime long ago. She didn’t want to go with him. She wanted to crawl under the covers of her bed and never emerge. But she knew she couldn’t let him see that anything was wrong. And so she nodded, smiling her acceptance as if she meant it. As she followed the duke, she remembered John Edgerton’s words as they’d walked to the dining room for dinner: “I always knew you’d become only more beautiful. You know how much I wanted you.” “I was seventeen years old.” He’d shrugged. “Old enough. Women are always old enough. Then you turned away from me. You told your father that I was too old. I do believe the bastard agreed with you. I knew then that one day I would have him at my mercy.” He paused a moment, running his knuckles lightly over her cheek. “And you as well, of course. Yes, and now it’s happened. You will do exactly as I wish, Evangeline.”
He was right. He’d gotten both of them, she thought. He’d had to stop when the duke had looked back at them, frowning. “Ah, I don’t want to make him jealous. I’m pleased he already wants you. It should make things very simple if he does find out about you and your, ah, mission.”
“Nothing would make anything simple. You murdered one of his friends, this Robert Faraday. Nothing would stop him, particularly a woman he wanted to bed, which isn’t true in my case.”
Once in the library, the duke walked to the sideboard. He poured each of them a glass of brandy. “It’s rich and deep and sinful,” he said, and clicked his glass to hers. He watched her over the rim of his glass.
“What do you think of my great-aunt Eudora and Felicia?”
“Lady Pemberly is very protective of you. Felicia, ah, one could never be bored in her company.”
“And Lord Pettigrew?”
“He is charming. He plans to marry Felicia.” “The devil you say.” A dark eyebrow shot up. “He told you that?”
“Oh, yes. I assumed you already knew. He told me he would let her know of her good fortune in due time. He wants her to have a Season before they marry.”
“Good God.” He swigged down the rest his brandy, turned, and stared into the fireplace. “Good God,” he said again. “The ways of a man’s heart are incomprehensible.”
“I think they’ll suit admirably.” “And do tell me what you think of John Edgerton.” This was the only person he really cared about. All the others were just a prelude. She knew it deep down. There was no reason not to tell him the truth about him, at least a good deal. She raised her chin. “I don’t like him.”