Chivalrous Captain, Rebel Mistress (19 page)

A cloud crossing in front of the sun darkened the room. Soon the servants and Blanche would return.

Their interlude had come to an end.

‘I should dress,’ Allan said, facing a reality he could not like.

‘We both must.’ She moved out of his arms and sat up. Her golden hair tumbled over her shoulders and more hairpins fell, joining others that now peppered the bed. ‘Blanche will be home soon. She invited Mr Yost to dinner.’ Yost.

Allan could delay this no longer.

Marian rose from the bed and turned to him, before donning her shift. ‘Would you like to stay for dinner?’

She would withdraw the invitation when he finished what he had to say to her.

He put on his shirt and trousers.

She sat at a dressing table and ran a brush through her hair. ‘You did not answer. Would you like to stay for dinner?’

He walked over to stand behind her, meeting her gaze through the mirror that faced her. ‘I have something of importance to tell you.’

She froze, brush poised in the air.

‘I discovered something,’ he began.

Her brows rose slightly.

He girded himself. ‘I discovered that your neighbour, Mr Yost, is planning a march on London—a soldiers’ march.’

She averted her gaze and continued to brush her hair. ‘Do not be ridiculous.’

He looked down on her. ‘It is true, Marian. I heard it myself, and Sidmouth knows as well.’

She gaped at him. ‘You informed on Mr Yost?’

‘No, another man did that.’ An unscrupulous man, Allan feared.

She put her brush down with a trembling hand. ‘Why do you tell me of this?’

He crouched down so he could look at her directly. ‘Because he is your friend and Blanche’s lover. And he is in danger of arrest.’

‘You will arrest him?’ Her eyes hardened.

‘If the march takes place, or if there is some proof of his conspiracy, like a letter with his name on it, I may be forced to.’ He touched her arm. ‘The Seditious Meetings Act makes it a crime.’

‘It is unjust.’ Her eyes flashed at him. ‘Besides, it sounds as if you only have rumours and speculation. You cannot arrest Yost on those grounds.’

‘We do not need a reason to arrest him.’ With the suspension of habeas corpus they could detain anyone they chose. ‘Sidmouth will want to wait until he knows more before arresting Yost. Such as the time and place of the march and others who can be implicated in the planning of it.’

‘And you think I can tell you who that is?’ Her voice turned cold.

He jerked back. ‘Not at all.’ At least, not until this moment. His eyes narrowed. ‘If you do know something, Marian, I would beg you to tell me.’

She lifted her chin. ‘I would tell you nothing. If I knew something, that is.’

His mind was turning, calculating the timing of events. Yost’s writings about the plight of the soldiers were printed months ago, yet the Home Office heard no rumours of Yost planning some demonstration until about a month ago.

Allan stood. ‘How long have you been acquainted with Yost?’

Her face became like a mask. ‘Are you interrogating me, Captain?’

He put his hands on his hips. ‘Answer the question, Marian.’

‘We met him after moving in, of course.’

That told him nothing except that she was being evasive. Why? He’d expected her to be upset at this news, but, by all signs, she’d not been surprised at it.

Allan’s mind turned quickly. Besides the plight of the soldiers, Yost had written fervently about other radical issues, taking up the cause of the weavers, writing against the Corn Laws, all manner of topics. What had induced him to settle on the soldiers’ problems? And how did he go from merely writing essays to becoming the leader of a soldiers’ march?

Allan knew of only one person who so single-mindedly embraced the soldiers’ cause. In fact, she would run into a burning building for them.

He stared down at her. ‘You are in on this, are you not, Marian? You are in the thick of it with Yost.’

She shot to her feet. ‘Now you
are
being ridiculous.’

He seized her arms. ‘Good God, Marian. How deep in are you?’

She tried to pull away. ‘Release me, Captain.’

He tightened his grip. ‘First tell me! How deep?’

She met his eye with defiance. ‘If I were involved, I would be a fool to tell you, would I not?’

He shook her. ‘You risk arrest every bit as much as Yost. The penalty of sedition is death.’

Her face flushed with colour. ‘Are you threatening me, Captain?’

‘I am warning you, Marian.’ He released her.

She glared at him. ‘You accuse me of sedition. I accuse you of betraying men who fought and suffered at your side during the war. I cannot believe you are saying these things to me.’

‘I am not betraying them.’ He raised his voice. ‘I am supporting the law.’

‘A law that would put me to death for encouraging men to demand help?’ She strode away from him, but turned back. ‘It is said that Sidmouth hired provocateurs at Spa Fields and that
they
caused the violence, not the protesters. Is Sidmouth in danger of hanging, or would it merely be me?’

He looked her in the eye. ‘He has hired men this time as well. You cannot go through with this. It is too dangerous.’

‘I am no stranger to danger, am I, Captain?’ She lifted her chin. ‘Besides, I might have been speaking hypothetically. Will you arrest me for speaking hypothetically?’

Must he arrest her? She had all but admitted she had a part in this.

By God, no. He could never do such a thing. Her intent would never be criminal. Foolish, yes, but not criminal. Sidmouth would not care about that distinction, however. Allan could not stop Sidmouth from arresting her if he knew this much.

‘Tell Yost to call off the march,’ he demanded. ‘It is too risky now. Stop it before it is too late for all of you.’

He turned away to stamp on his boots and don his waistcoat. He thrust his arms through the sleeves of his coat. The
emotions between them filled the room like smoke from a blocked chimney.

Her voice was barely audible. ‘Perhaps you ought not stay for dinner after all.’

Allan felt sick inside.

Marian laughed, but the sound was mournful. ‘And again I free you from your obligation to marry me, Captain. I suspect that a threat to arrest and hang me is an indication we would not suit.’

‘Marian,’ he murmured, at a loss to say more.

She opened a drawer and pulled out a robe, wrapping it around her and walking to the door. ‘Take what time you require to dress and then leave my house.’

She walked out.

M
arian, clad in only her shift and a silk robe, ran down the stairs to her tiny library. She closed the door and fled to the large leather chair that faced the cold fireplace.

She curled up in the seat, the leather chilly against her bare feet and through the thin fabric of her robe. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to shed them. She’d known he would ultimately not wish to marry her when he understood the depth of her views, but she had not guessed that he knew so much about the march.

She covered her face with her hands. To be fair, he did not really want to arrest her. He wanted her to call off the march because of the danger to her and to Yost.

His footsteps sounded on the stairs and soon after the front door closed.

He was gone.

At least no one in the house had known he’d been there.

Marian hugged her knees to her chest and tried not to think about how it felt to make love with him. She must think only of how he was working against her cause.

‘Oh, no!’ She shot out of the chair and paced the room.

She’d forgotten to ask Blanche what to do about preventing a baby.

How could she admit to Blanche that she’d bedded the captain when she must also tell her the danger he posed to her and to Mr Yost?

She glanced at the bookshelves. She’d purchased the house with most of the furniture and books in it. Perhaps the previous owners had owned a copy of
Aristotle’s Masterpiece
or, if not that well-known book about all things sexual,
Culpeper’s Complete Herbal
. Those books surely would explain how to prevent a pregnancy.

She found Culpeper’s book and pulled it off the shelf. The light in the room was dim so she carried it over to the window and opened the leather-bound volume.

There was no table of contents. No index.

‘They are listed alphabetically!’ It would take her hours to pore through the pages of herbs and their uses. She closed the book again and leaned her forehead against it.

Could having a baby out of wedlock be any worse than leading a march on Parliament? At least she would not be hanged for having a child.

She pictured herself holding a tiny baby in her arms and felt like weeping again.

The baby would be
his
.

With a groan, she returned the book to the shelf and walked out into the hall.

Blanche had just come in and was removing her hat and gloves.

‘Marian?’ Blanche gaped at her undress.

‘I—I took a nap and just returned a book to its shelf.’ How easily she lied. She took a breath and forced a smile. ‘I think Hannah must be out. Would you help me dress?’

A few minutes later Marian again sat at her dressing table, but it was Blanche with her instead of the captain.

Blanche drew a comb through Marian’s hair. ‘I am surprised that you did not remove the hairpins before napping.’

Hairpins had not seemed important at the time. ‘It was silly of me.’

Blanche pulled her hair into a tighter knot. ‘Well, I do not mind arranging your hair. I enjoy it and it gives me time to speak with you.’

Marian glanced at Blanche through the mirror. ‘We have not had much time of late, have we?’

Blanche looked distressed. ‘I have not been a very good companion.’

Marian reached up and squeezed Blanche’s hand. ‘I did not mean that. You are always here when I need you, and I do not begrudge the time you spend with Mr Yost.’

Blanche blushed. ‘I do spend a great deal of time with him, do I not?’

Marian patted her face with a blotting paper. ‘Is he dining with us tonight?’

‘If you do not mind,’ Blanche said uncertainly.

Dinner was time enough to tell them what the captain had said to her. ‘Of course I do not mind! I enjoy his company.’

‘Is Mr Landon dining with us, too?’ Blanche asked, twisting a lock of hair and pinning it in place.

‘No,’ Marian answered in a sharp tone. She softened it. ‘No, but I did see him briefly. He—he escorted me home when I called on Domina.’

‘Did he?’ Blanche gave her a knowing look through the mirror. ‘That is three days in a row you have seen him.’

‘Three days,’ she mumbled. She wanted to divert the conversation away from the captain. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

‘About last night—’ Blanche began.

Marian held up a stilling hand. ‘You need not explain. I have seen you blossom under Mr Yost’s attentions these few weeks. He brings you happiness. That is all I care about.’

Blanche’s cheeks turned pink again, but she shook her head. ‘I meant what transpired between you and Mr Landon.’

Marian stilled. ‘Because the captain was in my room?’

Blanche nodded.

Marian pressed a hand to her abdomen—where a baby might be growing. ‘It was innocent, I assure you. I heard a sound outside and he came in to investigate. It—it was the two men coming to see Yost.’ That sounded plausible. She hoped.

Blanche gave her a worried glance. ‘You never mentioned meeting Landon in Brussels.’

‘I did not think to mention it.’ Marian could feel her pulse beating fast.

Blanche’s brow creased. ‘I am concerned for you.’

‘Why?’ Marian made her voice light. ‘There is no reason for concern.’

Her friend seemed not reassured. ‘I am persuaded you have little experience with men. And you have told me nothing about Mr Landon—’

‘Because there was nothing of consequence to tell,’ Marian said defensively.

Blanche attended to another lock of hair. ‘Did you know him before Brussels?’

‘No.’ She did not want to discuss the captain. ‘Do you have a point, Blanche? Because I wish you would make it.’

Blanche put her hands on Marian’s shoulders and met the eye of her image in the mirror. ‘It takes time to know a man. To know if your heart is safe with him.’ Her expression turned bleak. ‘I—I just want to warn you that a man can deceive you. Seem one thing and be another entirely.’

Marian could feel the pulse in her body accelerate. What else was she to learn about the captain this day? ‘Do you have some information about the captain, something I should know?’

Her companion looked surprised. ‘No. Goodness, I know less of him than you do.’ She swallowed. ‘I am speaking about my husband, I suppose. He was a charming man and he quite swept me off my feet. He—’ Her voice cracked. ‘We were married very quickly after meeting, and it was not until later I
discovered his fondness for cards and for drink.’ She glanced down to pick up a hairpin. ‘I merely wanted to warn you to not give away your heart too quickly.’

This warning was too late.

‘I do appreciate your concern.’ Marian’s voice was stiff, but only because she was attempting to keep tears from flowing. ‘But you do not have to worry about me.’

Blanche stepped back. ‘I hope you will forgive my speaking so plainly. I know it is not my place.’ Her face became the picture of distress.

Marian regretted her clipped tone. She stood and gave Blanche a quick embrace. ‘I thank you for caring about me.’

‘I hope Mr Landon is every bit as gentlemanly as he seems. I like him,’ Blanche said.

So did Marian. In fact, she loved him in spite of what he could do to them. To her.

Allan returned to the Home Office.

It was the only thing he could think of to do.

He walked in and went to his desk. The newspapers he’d left there that morning were missing. He opened the drawers looking for them, but they were not there.

Sidmouth appeared in the doorway. ‘Walked out, did you? Wondered if you’d come back.’

‘A matter of importance required my attention.’

Marian.

‘Matter of importance, eh?’ Sidmouth pursed his lips. ‘Thought the Home Office was important.’

‘That is why I returned,’ he replied. ‘To work some more today.’

Sidmouth was behaving oddly. Allan often left the office during the day. Most times it had been to follow up on some lead.

Sidmouth slapped his thighs. ‘Well. Good news, Landon. Found another gentleman to assist.’

‘Another?’ Who this time?

He pointed at Allan’s chest. ‘Need a man willing to do what needs to be done. Found just the fellow.’

Allan disliked the sound of that. Was he hiring provocateurs after all? Perhaps the rumours of Spa Fields were true.

‘More men, more information. Need to know the day and location. Who else is in on it. Coming soon, I’ll wager.’

Allan felt his anxiety rise. Would this new man discover Marian’s part? ‘Who is this person?’

‘Son of a baron. Not afraid to dirty his hands a bit.’

Son of a baron? A wave of trepidation washed over Allan.

Sidmouth gestured for him to follow. ‘Come, Landon. Fancy you know the fellow.’

They walked to Sidmouth’s office where, lounging in a chair reading a newspaper, sat Edwin Tranville.

Edwin stood when he saw Sidmouth, his expression smug when he rested his gaze on Allan. ‘Twice in one day, Landon. What did I ever do to deserve this?’

Sidmouth clapped Allan on the back. ‘Trust you to fill in young Tranville here on your efforts so far.’ He left before Allan could say a word.

Edwin lifted the newspapers. ‘I borrowed these from your desk. Boring stuff, mostly.’

Allan glared at him. ‘Cut line, Edwin. What the devil are you doing here?’

‘Why, engaging in gainful employment.’ He smirked. ‘As you have done.’

Allan stepped closer, making the most of his taller stature. ‘Sidmouth said you were not afraid to dirty your hands a bit. What did he mean by that?’

Edwin’s smirk did not falter, but he backed away. ‘You would have to ask him, but apparently there is another fellow I am to work with. You are on your own, it seems.’

‘Why are you doing this, Edwin?’ Allan demanded.

Edwin placed a chair between them. ‘Because I can do a much better job than you, Landon, and I’m going to prove
it.’ He rubbed his scar. ‘Sidmouth valued my connection to Marian. It was one of the factors in my favour.’

Allan changed his tone. ‘Listen, Edwin, you must take care about Marian—’

Edwin’s nostrils flared. ‘I always take care about Marian. Besides, she will not know I’m spying on Yost.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Unless you tell her.’

Allan doubted she would listen to him long enough for him to tell her anything.

He advanced on Edwin again. ‘You will spend much of your time in taverns, I warn you. You cannot allow yourself to get so drunk that you cannot remember what you have heard.’

Edwin rolled his eyes. ‘Lawd, Landon. I can hold my drink.’

There was no reasoning with him. Disgusted, Allan strode out.

A week later Marian and Blanche waited in Marian’s bedchamber for Lord Ullman’s carriage to arrive and take them to Domina’s ball. Domina had insisted upon sending the carriage, and Edwin had volunteered to escort them.

Marian stood at the window. ‘I dread this event.’

Blanche turned from checking her gown in the mirror. ‘Oh, Marian, I know you do.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Is it because Mr Landon may be there?’

Blanche persisted in thinking Marian’s heart had been broken by the captain. Marian had done her best to convince her it was not so, that she considered the captain more of a threat to the soldiers’ march than a lost suitor.

Marian forced a dry laugh. ‘I hope the captain does attend. He will see me acting like a lady of the
ton
, interested only in parties and gowns and gossip.’

Marian had increased her attendance at various entertainments, mixing in society as much as possible to dispel any notions that such a frivolous creature could be the mastermind
behind a march upon Parliament. She had no illusion about fooling the captain about her efforts, but, if he told anyone, who would believe him?

She went on. ‘It is difficult to pretend to enjoy such triviality when the day of the march is almost here.’

‘I think you should forget about the march and enjoy yourself.’ Blanche checked her image again. ‘I confess, I am very excited. I never thought to wear such a beautiful gown in my life.’

Marian smiled at her. ‘You look lovely in it. I’m glad we purchased it for you.’

The deep garnet of the gown enhanced Blanche’s complexion and brought out the red tones in her brown hair. Marian made certain both her gown and Blanche’s were the very latest fashion to suit the role she played. Her modiste had been delighted. Marian’s gown was made of ice-blue silk with a bodice covered in lace and tiers of lace at the hem. The blue complemented her eyes.

And to be entirely truthful she hoped the captain would admire it.

‘I am glad for the carriage,’ Blanche went on. ‘Although it seems like the rain has stopped for the moment.’

It had rained all day, matching Marian’s mood and filling her with memories of the rain before Waterloo.

‘Has Mr Yost seen your gown?’ Marian asked, wanting to turn her mind away from those memories.

Blanche blushed. ‘I will show him later.’

Yost no longer shared dinners with them and he rarely walked with Blanche. Reilly created a small opening in the wall that separated their gardens, though, so he could pass through unseen and consult with Marian about the plans. Blanche used the opening almost every night to be with him.

Marian heard a sound outside. ‘Here’s the carriage.’ She reached for her wrap.

The ladies descended the stairs. Edwin was already waiting in the hall.

He bowed, hat in hand. ‘Good evening, Marian. You are very prompt.’

Marian peered at him, looking for signs he’d been drinking. He’d seemed on exceptionally good behaviour of late. He’d called upon her a few times and had always appeared sober. Still, something was going on with him, she could tell. Once, in the middle of the night, she thought she saw him standing across the street, which made no sense at all.

‘You look ravishing tonight, Marian,’ he told her.

It bothered her that he said nothing about Blanche’s appearance, but then he always treated Blanche as a mere servant.

‘Thank you, Edwin.’ Marian wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. ‘I suppose we might as well leave now.’

There was a crush of carriages the closer they came to Lord Ullman’s town house. They merely inched along. The captain would have suggested they walk the rest of the way, but such an idea would never occur to Edwin.