Page 40 of Dangerous Games of a Broken Lady
“You say this man has offices in the Speaker’s House?” Jasper whispered. There was nobody nearby, but Ephraim presumed he was maintaining a clandestine approach.
“Yes.”
Jasper nodded. “This may be poor timing on my behalf, but I have never been to the Palace of Westminster before.”
Ephraim shot him a look. “How can that be?”
“My father is still the Earl of Richmond. I will not take his place until—”
“I understand how peerage functions, Jasper,” Ephraim interjected sharply. “What I mean to say is, how can it be that you have never set foot in this building before? It is surely your father’s duty to orientate you?”
Jasper shrugged. “I have asked. I suppose he is yet to find a suitable moment.”
A groan escaped Ephraim’s lips. “Well, no matter. You are here now, and you are no less useful. Just follow my lead and… well, refrain from getting lost. I may never find you again.”
With that, Ephraim pressed on down the hallway. Jasper’s footsteps echoed on the flagstones behind him in a manner that sounded much too loud. Still, there was nothing to be done about that. A moment later, Ephraim paused at a curved wooden doorway. It gave off a somewhat ecclesiastical ambiance, the lintel arching to a teardrop peak. He reached for the black, wrought iron handle and checked the corridor in either direction.
Satisfied that the coast was clear, he turned the handle and ushered Jasper through. A cloistered walkway met them on the other side, the gabled archways stretching out towards a grassy square of reasonable size. A pathway traversed the length and breadth of the landscaped courtyard, whilst a small tower protruded from the very center. Bright sunlight glanced off the weathervane that turned slowly at the apex of the steeple. In the silence that followed, Ephraim could hear it squeaking on its mechanisms, whilst the sky above threatened rain. It had begun to drizzle an hour earlier, though stronger showers had held off.
“Which way?” Jasper murmured.
“That door there,” Ephraim instructed, pointing to a doorway that branched off to the right of the courtyard. The rising campaniles and spires of St. Stephen’s Chapel rose up beyond the lower structure of the long building that they were headed for. The latter divided their current courtyard with another one, which led right up to the Chapel itself.
Not wasting any time, they opened the doorway from one courtyard and hurried across the wide hallway, before letting themselves out into the next courtyard. A few politicians and clerks wandered the ensuing square, whilst others sat in pensive thought. Ephraim and Jasper did neither. Keeping a casual pace, they walked over to the far-right corner of the courtyard and slipped through a narrow alleyway. It cut between St. Stephen’s and a grand hall which branched off to the left, giving them direct access to the Chapel gardens.
“What if someone recognizes us?” Jasper whispered nervously.
“Then we explain that we are here on business,” Ephraim replied. The younger man was starting to makehimnervous. “I will tell any curious bystander that I have brought you here in order to do the job your father has neglected to.”
Jasper was visibly chastened. “Sorry, My Lord.”
In his previous visits to the Houses of Parliament, which were situated at the Palace of Westminster, Ephraim liked to come to the chapel gardens. They were peaceful and well-managed. Beautiful blooms of all colors and varieties sprang up from the neat flowerbeds, as precise pathways crisscrossed through the expanse of greenery. Naturally, being winter, there were fewer blooms than in the summer months. And yet, the gardens were no less beautiful.
You have no time for this,he chided himself.You may view the gardens at your leisure another time, providing you are still alive to admire them. If your daughter’s life is not motivation enough, let this be another. Foolish man—this is a simple enough task, now get on with it.
Taking one of the gravel pathways that led off to the left, Ephraim headed for the main entrance of the Speaker’s House. Crushed seashells crunched underfoot as he struggled to suppress his gathering nerves. Determined not to let them show, he fixed his gaze at the building ahead. The sandstone walls gleamed against the peeking strands of sunlight that glanced between rain-clouds.
He had been here several times before, for the Speaker’s House was ordinarily used for means of entertainment. Several fine dinners and soirees had been held there, and Ephraim had always tried to be in attendance. Margaret was forever the belle of the ball, even now. Her beauty had faded very little over the years. Indeed, she loved such events. He was not overly fond, but he attended for her sake. He felt it was the least he could do.
The memory of their last visit there made him suddenly melancholy. She had looked remarkable in a gown of peridot bombazine, hemmed with a striking shade of violet. She had worn a peridot choker at her throat that he had purchased for her, to match the fabric of her dress. He recalled the way tousled strands of her raven hair had trailed across her shoulder. In truth, he had never seen her look more beautiful than she had that evening.
Everyone had wanted to speak with her, and he had stood proudly at her side as she charmed them all. His cheeks had ached from smiling when they came away at the end of the night. He had never known admiration like it.
Upon their return home, she had taken off her gown and put her fine things away, slipping into a plain cotton shift. The mirage had shattered. She had let her hair loose and come to his chambers.No, I was mistaken. That was the moment… I had never seen her more beautiful than that moment.
Shaking off his thoughts, he approached the Speaker’s House and stepped under the grand arch. A few guards loitered in the elegant foyer, but they barely acknowledged the presence of two more gentlemen in all their finery.
Ephraim lifted his gaze to the rich mahogany walls, peppered with the gilded frames of former nobles, their portraits painted in skillful oils. The woodwork was exquisite, with miniature friezes carved into the dark grain. Roses of gold and bronze ornamented countless surfaces, while delicate cornicing edged the ceiling and the boundary between wood and wall. Running along the center of certain façades, coats of arms served as decoration. He did not pause to look for his.
Instead, they headed up the sweeping staircase towards the first floor. Gloomy light cast eerie shadows through the cross-hatched windows. With every step, Ephraim couldn’t help wondering if they were making a terrible, irrevocable mistake. If anyone discovered what they were up to, he stood to lose everything.
Then again, if he did not continue, he stood to lose Adelaide. That was simply not an option. He had never intended to bring her into this treacherous web, but Lord Rowntree played a harsh game. Now, he had no choice but to continue.
There is no going back now, Ephraim. All you can do is try and make it through this unscathed, whilst keeping Jasper’s reputation safe, too. How hard can that be?The sarcasm rippled through his mind. Regardless, he was perpetually glad to have Jasper at his side.A good man… a very good man.
Not for the first time, he wondered why he had not sought a betrothal between Jasper and Adelaide. Jasper was an exemplary young man of excellent means and station. He had been their neighbor every season since he was a baby and resided off-season on an estate not too far from the Colborne’s in the North of England. Adelaide cared for him and he cared for her. It seemed like the perfect match.
Ephraim reasoned there was some logical explanation behind the lack of betrothal, but his mind was too fraught to contemplate it. Even so, he was starting to wish he had insisted upon it. If he had, none of this would ever have happened.
