Page 88 of The Viscount's Seduction
Chapter 19
“You have heardof the Cato Street Conspiracy?”
“The plot against the Prime Minister,” Sirena said.
“Indeed. Those were not the only plotters against the Prime Minister and the King. It’s been reported that a man believed to be Donegal has met with some of the men we’re watching.”
“Perhaps that’s another man.”
“That is always the unfortunate possibility. Operatives can be...” Shaldon picked over his words. “Imprecise. When they are led by money, they will always go to the higher bidder. When they are led by passion, well, one impassioned speech can turn them on their head and find them working for the other side.”
Sirena stared into the dwindling fire. “Like Jamie. Could he still be alive?”
Bakeley sensed it had been a question for herself, not for him or his father. She couldn’t focus on Donegal. She couldn’t connect the dots between Donegal, Sterling Hollister, and her brother. Hell, he couldn’t yet either, but while she stewed about her worry, it was his job to work out how all three men tied together.
She sighed deeply. “I’m not willing to give up, Lord Shaldon. If catching this Donegal for you will tell me something, I’ll do it, but in exchange, there is something I want from you.”
Bakeley watched her stand and pace, his unease growing. She was intense, passionate, determined. She’d take information given and act on it, with or without him.
“Or rather I want to help you with something else that will bring me great satisfaction. If ’tis at all possible, I want Sterling Hollister. I want his head on a platter. I want a stake through his heart.” She braced her hands on the desk and leaned forward. “And if heistruly a traitor, I want to help you prove it.”
Alarm bells went off in Bakeley’s head. He’d thought to handle the vengeance himself, in his own way, stripping the man of his title. But Shaldon’s eyes had lit up in that way they’d done when his brother Bink had finally been lured to his bait. Shaldon would be ruthless, careless.
Sirena might be equally as ruthless and as careless, but she would also be defenseless.
Still, telling either of themabsolutely notwas the sure way to find himself locked out of the plotting, as he had been with Bink.
Sirena sat again on the edge of the chair. “Bakeley said my cousin has given up the privileges of his title, and that perhaps he’s not yet officially recognized as Glenmorrow. Could we catch him in a crime and perhaps, um, put him in your dungeon?”
Shaldon’s eyes had not ceased to glitter and now his lips quirked. The old man would live another fifty years with Sirena as a daughter.
Of that, he was glad, but keeping her from danger would keep Bakeley on his toes. He mustthink.
“We do not have a dungeon, my dear,” Shaldon said.
“Not here anyway.” Bakeley snatched the file and opened it, flipping through pages. “The list. He was going to bring a list and the name of the man he was pursuing. Perhaps we can let it be known that we have found that list, and that his name is upon it.”
Her eyes flitted back and forth. “Would it matter, so many years later?”
“Father? Would Liverpool’s government be interested in a list of old traitors?”
“Indeed.” Shaldon steepled his fingers. “We might also find reports from Waterloo survivors, men who have come forward wanting to tell the story of an officer shooting his own brother.”
Sirena’s mouth dropped open. “Are there such reports?”
He shook his head. “God knows, I have tried to find them. Battle is such that brother shooting brother is not so unfathomable. Soldiers would rather forget.”
“It is chaos, Sirena, so Bink says. Brothers in arms can accidentally shoot each other.” And that was all Bink would say about battle.
“I see.” She nodded. “But he won’t know that, and perhaps it will rattle him. If he’s the one who attacked Mr. Gibson and the O’Brians, perhaps we should take a journey to the country and lure him that way.”
“No.” Bink’s journey with Paulette had involved an invasion of her inn room and two killings—and he’d seen one of those bodies. No, Sirena would not be put through that.
Her face settled into a stubborn frown, while Shaldon watched, no doubt enjoying the potential for an argument.
She would not go on a journey. Whatever trap they set, it would have to be in town, where he could keep her close, and even then...to keep her at home was better, but that was tricky, unless...
“We’ll hold a ball.” He sat up in his chair, the genius of it flooding him. She and Perry would spend hours planning menus, writing invitations. “A wedding ball, to celebrate our nuptials. In one week, or perhaps ten days. We’ll invite Hollister, of course, as your nearest relative. Don’t frown so, Sirena, Father will have men ready to snatch him up and take his head off.”
