He exhaled. “Is it?”
“He’s being set up as a scapegoat for treason.”
“You mean he’s not the traitor?”
“Of course, he’s not!” she declared hotly. “This is why I didn’t want—. Wait.” Her eyes widened. “How do you know there’s a traitor in the first place?”
“It’s why I’m in Little Barrow.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not hunting for a wife at all, are you?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She sat back, mind whirling. There was too much to sort through, like a barrow filled with broken beads. She needed to put the pieces together. “Did the War Office send you?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“And they think Henry is a traitor?” She was offended all over again. And scared. Desperately scared for her friend.
“Henry’s name has not yet come up.”
Relief hit her like the brandy. She felt light-headed. “Thank God for that at least.”
“Tell me what you know.”
“You must promise not to accuse Henry.”
He stood. “I can only promise to see justice brought to a traitor.”
She eyed him carefully. He looked stern, aloof, holding back the ferocity inside. She nodded once. “As Henry is not the traitor, I accept those terms.”
The corner of his mouth quirked.
She told him what she knew, about Henry’s letters, the forgeries, the fact that he was still not home and ought to have docked with the other members of his party. Conall listened intently, without interrupting. “I’d like to see the letter he sent you.”
Persephone nodded. “Certainly. She glanced over his shoulder where Lady Louisa loitered at the window, her nose practically pressed to the glass. “Never mind the traitor, I suspect there is a line-up of debutantes waiting to do me in.”
“No one is going to do you in.” He sounded very sure. She decided to believe him. It made the fear prickling through her limbs abate somewhat.
“You don’t know debutantes and their mothers.”
“I do actually.”
She snorted. “You think you do. You’ve only seen their society masks. They’ve been told to be pleasant in order to find a husband. Without one they’ve no recourse to make money of their own, even if they had some kind of skill beyond a country dance and could legally control their own funds. And once their fathers pop off, they’ve nowhere to live, each to a one.” She shook her head. “And so many men lost to Napoleon on top of that.”
“The men of England are currently outnumbered; I’ll grant you that.”
“It makes it all so much more frantic. It might look like a pretty game, all that flouncing and curtsying, but you don’t know the kind of desperation underneath.”
“I suppose not.” He raises a brow. “Not that I am not sympathetic, but I am much more concerned with the traitor’s desperation at the moment.”
“Right. Stand right there,” she said. “Don’t move.”
He did as she asked, only quirked an eyebrow. She turned her back to him.
“I can’t imagine what you’re doing now.” He sounded amused, despite himself.
“Good.” She slipped her fingers under the edge of her bodice and her stays. She could just reach Henry’s letter, tucked against her skin for safekeeping. She wriggled slightly. Conall made a strangled sound in his throat. She wriggled again, held her breath and success! The edge of the paper was soft from being folded inside her dress. She turned, smiling. “You did say you wanted to read Henry’s letter.”