Page 96 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
“He,” Charley said. “That much I do know.”
“As I said, a bit of intelligence might help,” Bink muttered.
Charley knew a good deal more than them, some from Farnsworth, some from his father, some from the records he’d dug up on his mother’s accident, and those hideous memories, but all he had were pieces of a puzzle. Only his father knew the whole picture being assembled.
“Someone from the old days, so older,” Bakeley said. “Right, then. Let’s gather these fillies and get off this street.”
They entered together, each man tucking a lady’s hand into his, except for his vicar cousin. His father, he noticed, had handed Perry over to Penderbrook and was escorting Lady Jane. Perhaps she too had a spy attached somewhere in her past.
He maneuvered them to the back of the group, Gracie offering no resistance, but she was stiff as a royal duchess next to him. “Tonight is our wedding night,” he murmured.
She sent him a tremulous smile. “Whydidyour father insist that we come?”
“It is to be our shocking come-out,” he said. “I’ve married an heiress and you’ve caught yourself a rich earl’s son. And he’s up to something. I’m not sure what." The last thing he wanted was for her to worry.
She jerked her chin up and gazed at him. “He’s after a traitor.”
She had spent the morning with his brothers’ wives.
“Yes, so I would imagine. And erase that frown, please. This is the happiest day of your life.” He let a warm gaze travel over her. “Do it for England.”
“Am I English, then? Papa changed sides more than once, and I was not really sure.”
“You are now.”
She took in a breath that made her fine bosom rise in its silver cage, and he couldn’t help smiling. He would ravish her three ways tonight, if he could find the stamina.
“I will do it to honor my father.” She waved a gloved hand. “Whatever this is I am supposed to do.”
“You are supposed to be just what you are—the most beautiful woman at this ball.”
He swept a gaze over the crowd. It was more than the usual assortment of peacocks and peahens, but then, the king peacock of all of Europe was soon to be crowned and no one wanted to miss out on the spectacle.
He recognized many faces from his travels across Europe. The Duquesa was there, glowing and golden. From the tense line of her lovely jaw, he knew she’d spotted him. He easily deciphered the look she directed at a lady wearing a mine-load of diamonds on her neck and a dish filled with feathers atop her head. Her duque had no regard for his marriage vows, was probably right now in a cranny, lifting another woman’s skirts. The lady had managed the marriage these many years with the help of her powerful father. And French letters.
She’d asked for a meeting again just that morning. This time, her messenger had waited, and he’d sent his deepest regrets.
But two notes, two days in a row, meant the subject was something important, and with Farnsworth gone, there was no one else to make contact.
He must have that dance with her.
Names of attendees boomed across the room. His father was announced, then the rest one by one. After Bink and Paulette, Charley stepped forward with Gracie and handed over a card.
“Mr. and Mrs. Charles Everly.”
There was not much of a ruffle in the room, but looking over his wife’s head, he saw one pair of eyes widen. And then two men stepped up with the Duquesa—her husband and Lord Kingsley.
Gracie saw them also. Her breasts rose again. “Bugger the man,” she whispered.
“Indeed,” he said. If possible, with a very sharp sword.
