Page 45 of The Secret of Flirting
Ten
The following day, Gregory headed for Apsley House to meet with the Duke of Wellington, who was about to lose his position as prime minister. Which meant this discussion could be tricky. Wellington was hard to manage on a good day, but given the current political climate, he was downright cantankerous.
Still, he liked Gregory... most of the time. And it would be political suicide for Gregory not to inform the man of his plans to whisk so many important people out of town.
As he drove by the Hyde Park entrance, yesterday’s events flooded his mind, and a chill settled in his bones. Monique could have been killed. The image of her lying in a pool of blood had haunted him ever since the shooting, making him anxious to leave town. Something was definitely amiss, and he meant to figure out the whole matter, but first, he must keep her safe.
The way he’d kept Mother safe all those years ago.
He scowled. And he’d do it again, if he had to, not just for Mother but for Monique. They were both in his charge now, whether the impudent Mademoiselle Servais liked it or not.
Though he did wish he knew why Princess Aurore—presumably the real one—had refused Prince Leopold’s offer of marriage. Perhaps she really was as shy and reclusive as all that. Perhaps the idea of him as her husband had terrified her. Otherwise, it made no sense. It seemed an excellent match to him.
Couldthatbe behind the masquerade? Had Beaumonde brought Monique into it in hopes of renewing the arrangement? Gregory didn’t see how that could work. Surely the two women weren’tthatmuch alike.
Unless the real princess was dead.
A chill ran through him. There was always that possibility. If someone had succeeded in assassinating Princess Aurore, and the count hadn’t been willing to give up on having the royal family of Chanay in power in Belgium...
Surely he wouldn’t be so insane. And would Monique agree to a lifetime of playing someone else? It seemed unlikely.
And what was the business with Lady Ursula being a relation of the prince? How did that fit in? These were questions he hoped to answer once he had all the parties trapped at his estate in the country.
But first he must deal with Wellington. As Gregory was shown into the man’s study, the prime minister rose to greet him with a handshake. “I heard there was some trouble across the way yesterday,” Wellington said without preamble. “You have it under control?”
“I do. Indeed, that’s why I’m here.”
“I figured as much.” Gesturing to the chair in front of his desk, Wellington took his own seat behind it. “The captain of the guard says the Princess of Chanay was fired upon while you were taking her for a drive?”
“Yes, sir.” Gregory briefly went over the previous day’s fiasco and explained the measures he’d taken. Now came the difficult part. “I have proposed to the princess and her great-uncle that they and their retinue decamp to my country estate while the conference is in recess for the holiday.”
Wellington steepled his fingers. “Is that really necessary?”
“If we want to make sure no more attempts are made on her life, yes.” When the duke frowned, Gregory added, “I’ve invited Pontalba to join us, as well as Prince Leopold, to make it more of a house party. That should also squelch any accusations that I’m trying to keep the Chanay contingent away from the delegates.”
“Ah. Turn it into a social event—very wise. But then, you are nothing if not wise.”
Gregory chalked up the trace of bitterness in Wellington’s tone to resentment that Gregory would be continuing on with the government whenhewould not. “I do my best,” he said blandly.
“And I know your mother can easily manage such a party. A very clever woman, Lady Fulkham.”
“Indeed she is,” Gregory said, with more emotion.
His mother was the cleverest woman he knew... except perhaps for Monique. Still, Mother was going to have his head for giving her so little notice. He’d sent the message off last night. He could only imagine the chaos going on at Canterbury Court right now as servants scurried to ready all the guest chambers.
Fortunately, there were plenty of them—and he’d instructed his mother to spare no expense in hiring more servants to help. Although this would still be a major feat, Mother understood the trials of playing hostess to politicians. Her father had been chancellor of the exchequer before the family had fallen on hard times. Which was how she’d ended up married to Gregory’s arse of a father.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Wellington said.
“Hmm?” Gregory said.
He’d missed the prime minister’s last remark, damn it. He was going to have to do something about his bloody woolgathering of late. It wasn’t like him.
“Danworth,” Wellington said, eyeing him oddly. “Including him won’t be a problem, will it?”
“Not at all.” Great. Another person to add to the growing party. “Though I’m not sure why it’s necessary.”
“Not necessary perhaps, but a good idea under the circumstances. Since I can’t go myself, I need someone there to represent me. And who better than my secretary?”
