Educating Elizabeth

Chapter 26

As the carriage drew closer to the outskirts of London, the duke's face lost its lazy amiability and become hard and shuttered. Although they still occupied the same small space, it was if he had completely withdrawn himself from Elizabeth. She had hoped, after their night of passion, that he would be able to relax with her, but it seemed as if her sacrifice had been in vain.

He hadn't stayed in her bed and had faced her over the breakfast table with barely a word, his chilly demeanor soon reducing her to silence. Fearing his biting wit, she hadn't attempted to converse with him since the start of their journey. She sighed and leaned her cheek against the window as the carriage slowed to negotiate the cobbled streets and the swarming crowds of people who spilled onto the road.

She'd played her hand and now her path was clear. She had to solve the code and be on her way. It was obvious that the duke was never going to allow her to get under his guard again. She sensed it in his gaze and in every indefinable, subtle, gesture that pushed her away from him.

The coachman drew up outside the imposing entrance to Delamere house. A liveried footman sprang to open the door, allowing Elizabeth to descend. She thanked him and, without waiting for the duke, walked into the marbled hallway and bade Standish a quiet good morning.

An hour later she was back at her desk, her spectacles perched on the end of her nose, her hair tightly braided to her head. When Sir John appeared and settled behind his desk after a great deal of fussing on his part, she was able to greet him with calm complacency.

"Mrs. Waterstone, how delightful it is to see you. Did you enjoy your weekend away with the duke?" He winked and she sat up straighter in her chair. "I'm sure you found plenty there to amuse you."

Elizabeth repressed an urge to blush as the edge of Sir John's contempt bit into her. She busied herself unlocking her desk drawer and retrieving the code.

"Thank you, Sir John. Indeed, it was most agreeable to leave London behind and enjoy the beneficial effects of the country air."

"I've a place in the countryside, Mrs. Waterstone." His laughter contained an undertone of bitterness. "Of course it is less luxurious than the duke's and it is heavily mortgaged. Would you care to spend a weekend with me?"

His blatantly intimate offer made her pause. She hadn't thought how the other members of the household would view her abrupt departure from London with the duke. She quailed at the prospect of Nicholas sidling up to her and propositioning her next.

"That is very kind of you, Sir John but I think I've had my fill of the country for the time being." She indicated the code in front of her. "I've plenty to occupy myself, but thank you for the offer."

To her great relief, Sir John merely grunted and settled down to his work. Elizabeth stared blankly at the code until her heart rate returned to normal and her hands stopped shaking. She was still taken aback at how crudely Sir John had spoken to her. All his pretense of gentility had disappeared once he thought her beneath him. She almost smiled at her own choice of words...beneath him. Was that truly how he thought of her?

She looked out of the front window where the duke's gleaming black curricle waited. The duke passed below her in a swirl of his caped driving coat, his tall black hat obscuring his face. With a sense of desperation, she picked up her quill pen and set her jaw. The sooner she finished the code, the sooner she could leave.

At luncheon, after Nicholas had poured her a second cup of coffee and Sir John had taken himself off, Elizabeth was finally able to relax. Nicholas grinned at her over his coffee cup.

"I'm glad you managed to persuade the duke to take a weekend off. He has not taken a break for ages."

Elizabeth braced herself against anything else Nicholas intended to add. To her relief, he reached for another cake, which he stuffed whole into his mouth. When he had finished chewing, he patted his yellow waistcoat pocket and produced a folded piece of parchment.

"Good lord, I almost forgot to give you this. The duke said this information might help you with the code."

He passed the crisp sheet of parchment across to Elizabeth. The duke's bold handwriting covered the page.

"It seems as though a parade for the triple alliance victors against Napoleon will be held in London on the third of June. The Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia will accompany the Prince Regent," she said.

Nicholas whistled as Elizabeth continued. "I thought that the code mentioned June, but it was so well disguised that I almost discounted it." She leaned forward. "It would be the perfect opportunity for a French assassin to kill the Prince Regent."

"Or any of the other heads of state for that matter." Nicholas said with a frown. "That is only a week away. How will we know exactly where the assassin plans to attack? The route through London is bound to be a circuitous one and the crowds will be huge."

Elizabeth rose. "I suspect the code contains this information." She picked up the duke's note and put it carefully into her reticule.

"Do you still wish to visit your mother today, Mrs. Waterstone? I'm at your service."

Elizabeth flashed him a distracted smile. "I'll see how I progress with the code. If I feel that even visiting my mother would be less stressful, I will let you know."

Elizabeth used the tip of her gloved finger to clean a space on the smeared windowpane and look down into the street. There was still no sign of her mother and Mary and she had been waiting for a quarter of an hour.

The maid had told her they had gone for a walk and were expected back shortly. Having nothing better to occupy her time, Elizabeth set to cleaning the cluttered drawing room.

She gathered up the crockery and the empty vases and dispatched them down to the kitchen. When she returned, breathless from climbing the three flights of stairs, she started to sort out the books. Most of them appeared to be the lurid gothic romances from the Minerva Press her mother loved but some belonged to Mr. Forester. She separated them out and decided to take them through to his study, which occupied a small room along the hall.

She tapped lightly on the door but no one answered. As usual, Mr. Forester's study was far tidier than the rest of the house. Elizabeth dropped the pile of books onto the desk and then began to reshelve them. Just as she finished, a small red-covered book, which lay half under the desk blotter, caught her attention. With a strange pang of unease, she closed her fingers around it.

She flipped open a page at random and found herself staring at Sir John's neat handwriting. She shut her eyes in an effort to replace Sir John's well-known script with an unknown hand, but she couldn't. She almost dropped the book as she read the fragment of code and its translation, which Sir John had transcribed from the originals in her possession.

She clutched the book to her bosom and stared unseeingly at the wall of books behind the desk. What was Sir John's precious book doing in Mr. Forester's hands? He had assured her that it never left his possession.

A dry cough sounded in the stairwell and Elizabeth hurriedly replaced the book under the blotter and moved toward the bookshelves.

Moments later, her stepfather intruded on her solitude. "Elizabeth? Did you come to see your mother?"

Elizabeth replaced the atlas she had been pretending to consult and swung around to smile at her stepfather. "Good afternoon, Mr. Forester, I hope that you are having a pleasant day?" She clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking as she walked confidently toward the door, hoping Mr. Forester wouldn't notice the rapidity of her breathing. He remained in the doorway, preventing her from leaving. She gestured to his bookcases as she attempted to slide past him.

"I was tidying up the drawing room whilst I waited for mother and I brought a selection of your books through to reshelve."

Mr. Forester's gaze remained on her. "Old habits die hard, eh? You were always the one who made sure we lived respectably, weren't you?" He winked at her and pinched her cheek. "Not enough tidying up to do at the duke's, I suppose, apart from the rumpled sheets on your bed."

"I've little to do with the housework, sir," she agreed politely. "The duke has an excellent staff."

"So I hear."

A babble of noise alerted Elizabeth to the return of her mother and sister. Mr. Forester straightened and she took the opportunity to bob him a hurried curtsey and sweep past him.

"I must go and bid my mother good afternoon. Will you be joining us for tea?"

Mr. Forester sauntered over to his desk and shook his head. "I've too much to do today, but please go ahead and enjoy yourself."

As she turned to leave, Elizabeth caught Mr. Forester's frown as he located the red-covered book on his desk. With a curse, he pulled open his desk drawer and dropped the book inside. The last sound Elizabeth heard before she fled was the key being turned in the lock.

Her mother was as unenthusiastic as usual about Elizabeth's appearance. She immediately settled into a litany of complaints, which covered Mary's expenses, the boorishness of Jack Llewelyn, and the financial exigencies of existing in a fashionable world.

For once, Elizabeth was glad her mother didn't require her participation in her familiar tirade. She only had to nod, sip at her tea, and nibble at a stale macaroon to be considered useful. Her mind roamed endlessly through the frightening possibilities of her discovery. Was Sir John in league with her stepfather? She almost choked on her cake as another more appalling thought surfaced. And was Mr. Forester involved with the French?

When the door flew open, Elizabeth almost threw her teacup in the air, but it was only Mary. Elizabeth smiled at her sister, who looked enchanting in a blue sprigged muslin walking dress that matched her eyes.

Mary sank into the seat next to Elizabeth's in a rustle of petticoats and gave a deep sigh. "Oh, Lizzie, I'm so pleased you have come. I was just talking about you to on my walk with Mama."

Mrs. Forester snorted as Mary clasped Elizabeth's hand. Something glinted on Mary's wrist and Elizabeth leaned forward to see what it could be. Mary gave an excited squeak and proudly stuck out her hand until it was under Elizabeth's nose.

"Look at what Papa gave me. Isn't it beautiful?"

Elizabeth stared at the gold bracelet, which was adorned with a cascade of diamonds and heart-shaped rubies. For some reason, it seemed vaguely familiar.

"Your father bought it for you?"

"There is no need to take that contrary tone with Mary, Elizabeth." Mrs. Forester sniffed. "Is it so difficult for you to believe that a father might choose to bestow a gift on his daughter for her first Season?"

Elizabeth bit back a sharp retort as she watched Mary's face fall. She patted her hand. "It is indeed a wonderful gift, Mary and it suits you admirably."

She replaced her cup on the table, endured Mary's chatter for a further ten minutes, and then rose. "Thank you for the tea, mother. I will just pop along and see Michael and then I must be going."

Her mother waved a disinterested hand and Elizabeth escaped down the back staircase, which was the quickest route to Michael's area of the house. She had to pause outside his door in an effort to regain her composure. Michael was capable of detecting the slightest nuance in her expression and she needed his help, not his protection.

She knocked and Jack Llewelyn's melodious voice bade her enter. She had to smile as she studied the two occupants of the room. They were playing cards and the room was thick and hazy with the smell of Spanish cigars and a hint of brandy.

Jack Llewelyn immediately got to his feet. "Miss Waterstone, what a pleasant surprise. I thought you might be an emissary of your mother's reminding me not to use the front entrance of the house again." He shrugged and glanced at Michael. "Apparently, I keep forgetting to use the servant's entrance."

Michael laughed and held out his hand to Elizabeth. "Come and sit down, Lizzie. Jack will open a window and get rid of all this smoke and then, if I ask him nicely enough, he might even make us some tea."

"I don't want any tea."

Michael's grip tightened and he brought Elizabeth's fingers to his lips. "Good God, woman, your hands are like ice!"

Elizabeth swallowed as Jack Llewelyn abandoned the window and came around to look at her.

"Is there something wrong, Miss Waterstone?"

His reassuring tone and air of quiet competence helped her gain some much-needed courage.

"I'm not sure," she confessed as he helped her to a seat. She studied their faces as she mentally practiced her request and prayed they wouldn't think she had run insane.

"If I asked you to hold onto some valuable information for me, without being able to explain exactly why or where I got it, would you help me?"

Michael half-frowned and glanced at Jack Llewelyn. "Of course I would and I think I can vouch for Jack's integrity."

"It might not come to anything, but I need to be sure you would not betray me to anyone. Not even our own family or the duke."

"Have you stolen something, Elizabeth?" Michael's voice was calm, but Elizabeth could detect the drive of his iron will behind the question.

"No, and before you ask, I haven't inherited the family curse and run up huge gambling debts either." She hesitated for a moment and scanned their faces. "I just need you to trust me."

Jack Llewelyn nodded. "That's good enough for me. I will be glad to help in any way I can."

"I can only second what Jack said. But you must promise me to be careful."

Elizabeth smiled gratefully at them both. "Thank you. I will feel much better, if things go awry, knowing I've some allies." Determined to change the subject, she clapped her hands. "Now may I join you in a hand of cards? I haven't had the pleasure of playing against Mr. Llewelyn before."

Elizabeth took in the appraising glance Jack Llewelyn gave her and winked at Michael behind his back. A few winning hands of cards might help to settle her nerves and ready her for the problems that surely awaited her back at Delamere House.

After reducing her brother and Jack Llewelyn to imaginary penury, she allowed Jack to escort her to the carriage, where Nicholas awaited her. By the time the carriage reached the duke's residence, several things had become clear. She had no real proof against Sir John and her stepfather to show the duke, only her word.

She knew how the duke liked to double-check every piece of information. How could she make sure Sir John's book was not in his possession?

For all she knew, Sir John could be working under the duke's orders and she might inadvertently spoil his plans. But why hadn't the duke told her of his suspicions about Mr. Forester? She could have helped him if only she had known.

As she descended from the carriage it occurred to her, with a dull sense of shock, that the duke might believe he had a very good reason not to tell her or trust her. She was, of course, Mr. Forester's stepdaughter. Did the duke think she was involved with the French as well?