Page 64 of Masquerading with the Duke
‘Either that or scarper. If I was a gambling man my money would be on the former. What’s more, I think he will go immediately and use the time before I return to London to convince his minister that he’s whiter than white. He enjoys life in England, at the hub of politics; a lifestyle financed by his disloyalty. He might be in bed with the French but has no desire to soil their linen. He enjoys his minister’s full confidence, and I imagine he thinks he can talk himself out of the hole he’s dug.’
‘We need to unveil his guilt,’ Jared said, scowling. ‘And more to the point, my innocence. I don’t see how any of this will help.’
‘It will help, dear chap, because he knows we’re on to him. He’ll be a damned fool if he risks passing on any more sensitive information, but the French won’t let him stop. By taking their blunt, he’s committed himself and they can reveal his involvement as soon as they feel that he’s outlived his usefulness. It’s just the sort of thing they’d enjoy doing, if only to expose our weak underbelly and congratulate themselves on scoring points over us.’
Jared nodded, thinking he’d been excessively slow since he’d only just caught up with Romsey’s plan. ‘You intend to let slip some juicy intelligence that just happens to be untrue?’
‘I rather think it’s necessary, now that we know for certain who the traitor actually is. Then when the French quiz us about it we will be able to prove who leaked it and Redrow’s minister will be forced to see the truth. My faith in you will then be vindicated and you can repay me by smoothing a few ruffled French feathers.’
‘Everything has a price,’ Jared said bitterly.
‘King and country, and all that.’ Romsey slapped Jared’s shoulder. ‘Shame about the cricket,’ he added as the two men sauntered back out onto the terrace. ‘I thought you had them there with that bowling of yours.’
Jared rode home a little later in an unsettled frame of mind. Common sense told him that he ought to be glad that matters were resolving themselves. It really didn’t matter who exposed Redrow for the traitor that he was, just so long as suspicion no longer hovered over his own name.
He agreed with Romsey. In Redrow’s position, he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to return to London and consolidate his position with his minister. That being the case, he would have to miss the masquerade. Jared had been worried about that occasion; not for himself but for Martina. With everyone masked and the inevitable lowering of inhibitions that such flimsy disguises tended to invoke, she would have been at risk.
At least Romsey had managed to remove the possibility of Redrow accosting her at the masquerade and Jared could enjoy dancing with the annoyingly independent female who was in danger of stealing his heart. If she were a little older, she would likely already have achieved that ambition, but Jared was manfully attempting to resist the gravitational pull that drew him to her. There was just something about her; something other than her imperious behaviour, her flashing eyes and sensuous mouth that captivated him in a manner over which he had absolutely no control, causing him endless frustration and sleepless nights.
He was obliged to constantly remind himself that she was not yet seventeen; a decade younger than he was. Her maturity, determination and sound common sense, a product of the hardships and dangers she had survived but which no female should have had to face, often made him forget how young she actually was. He could not permit his thoughts to drift in the direction they seemed determined to take but at least he would be able to enjoy her challenging company at the masquerade the following evening without fear of Redrow creating problems for either of them. Always assuming, of course, that he took himself off immediately to Whitehall.
Jared reached home and retired almost immediately, even though it was still early. He spent the following day with his steward, discussing their plans to knock the estate into shape. Ramsay, meanwhile, was despatched to Winchester in order to purchase a suitable domino.
‘Something light. Silk perhaps,’ Jared emphasised. ‘Damned masquerades are supposed to take place in the winter, where covering oneself in an enveloping cloak is a means of keeping warm. But in this weather…’ He glanced out the window at a clear blue sky and sighed. ‘It’s going to be another scorcher.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Everyone seems to think the weather’s about to break again,’ Ramsay replied cheerfully. ‘Anyway, you’ll just have to swelter if you will insist upon playing with the sophisticates.’
Jared shook his head at his irrepressible man as he rode off to Winchester, then returned his attention to his steward.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Explain to me why you think corn won’t take in the lower acres?’
*
‘Incomparable!’
Zach stood back to admire Frankie, clad in a gown of golden silk elaborately trimmed with Flemish lace and with a decorated Venetian mask to match.
‘You look rather dashing yourself,’ Frankie replied, standing on her toes to kiss Zach’s lips.
Zach removed his domino. ‘I shall avoid wearing this until the last possible moment.’
‘You can’t take it off yet. We promised the children that we would show them the ballroom and us in our costumes.’
‘So we did.’ Zach put his domino back on and donned his black mask. ‘Hope we don’t scare the little devils.’
‘That I very much doubt. Leo and Josh are still full of the things they got up to yesterday and Charlotte hasn’t stopped crowing because she was allowed to stay up later than they were.’ Frankie chuckled. ‘She never wastes an opportunity to remind them that she is the eldest and therefore entitled to the most privileges.’
They made their way up to the nursery and found Amos, suitably attired for the masque, there ahead of them.
‘You look lovely, Mama,’ Leo said. ‘All golden.’
Amos had Miranda in his arms and Charlotte clinging close to his side. ‘Can we see the ballroom now, Papa?’ she asked, bouncing up and down impatiently on her toes. ‘You promised that we could.’
Amos glanced at Zach, who shrugged. Thus a small procession of children made their way down three flights of stairs to the ballroom on the lower ground floor. It faced the side of the estate, away from the reception rooms that were normally used.
‘Good heavens,’ Zach permitted his surprise to show. ‘Quite a transformation.’
Amos nodded, smiling as the children whirled around the middle of the floor, showing much enthusiasm and little coordination. Miranda fell and landed on her bottom with a thud. She laughed as Charlotte pulled her to her feet.
