Royal Revels (13 page)

“Oh, I’ve been so lonely,” she gasped when he stopped kissing her. “You have no idea how lonely it is for me here.”

He held her two hands and tried to read the expression in her eyes, but all he could see was passion. She was a hot-blooded woman. “Mrs. Morton might come in at any moment,” he cautioned, desperate for an excuse to extricate himself.

“She’s lying down upstairs. She is discreet—she wouldn’t come barging in unannounced.”

He marked this revealing statement. “Lady Gilham…”

“Call me Moira,” she crooned softly. “And what shall I call you?”

“My name is Richard.”

“Richard,” she repeated softly. “It suits you. Richard the Lion-Hearted! I knew the first time I saw you that it would come to this. You felt it, too, didn’t you?” She smiled.

“I had hopes.’’

‘‘You won’t regret this, dear Richard.”

He was deeply regretting the whole thing already, but he assumed an ardent countenance, kissed her again, and fled from the house as if it were on fire. Lady Gilham watched his departure from behind the curtains. All traces of passion had faded from her face to be replaced by a wily grin of victory.

Belami drove straight to the Royal Pavilion to report to Colonel McMahon. “She’s an accomplished lightskirt,” he said after revealing the general tenor of the latest visit. ‘‘I’ll have her out of the house tomorrow night. So far as I can discover, there’s the manservant, a cook, and Mrs. Morton residing with her. They should be asleep by midnight. I’ll have my men go in and nab the stuff. The trickiest part will be the boudoir. It shouldn’t be locked, but it will be close to Mrs. Morton’s room.

“Do you want any help from this end?”

“No, no, we’ll leave the prince out of it, as you suggested. By the way, I discovered how she got the china and silver,” he added and relayed that story. “Is it true, do you suppose?’’ he asked when he had finished.

“It’s entirely possible,” McMahon told him. ‘‘He was there on her birthday, took a whole caravan with him, and had to come darting back early. He never admitted to anyone that she refused to return his belongings. Carème could tell us. I’ll go and have a word with him now. Can you wait? I daren’t ask him to come to me. I am only the Prince Regent’s private secretary. His chef is a more important personage altogether,” he said with an ironical smile.

Belami poured himself a glass of wine and waited. Inside of ten minutes, McMahon was back. ‘‘Yes, it’s true. They all scrambled off in a mad rush to avoid the carriages being seen by the London crew. Carème himself went back the next day to pick up the effects and was given the message. The prince simply ignored it, so far as he knows. We could get an injunction from a judge...”

“And a deal of bad publicity. Believe me, Colonel, my way is better. The lady obviously believes possession is nine points of the law. When we have the goods in our possession, she hasn’t a leg to stand on.”

“By Jove, we won’t have to give her a penny,” McMahon crowed.

“I’m inclined to give her the thousand pounds,” Belami said. “She has been wronged, to some extent. It won’t break the prince to let her have the payment agreed on.”

“Well, well, this is an unexpected bout of gallantry, my friend!” McMahon charged, his eyes widened in surprise. “Quite pretty, Lady Gilham, of course. Is that why the old duchess ducked out on you, taking her charge with her?”

“What do you mean?” Belami asked, his muscles tensing at this second statement of that story.

“Why, she left a card off at the Pavilion today. She’s hired the little cottage Mrs. Fitzherbert used to use in the old days.”

Belami was bewildered, but he smiled and tried to put a good face on it. “Oh, that—she is merely trying to help me with the Smythe business. She hopes to learn something there in the house—the neighbors and so on,” he said matter-of-factly.

“A shot in the dark, but then I don’t suppose you tried very hard to stop her. She must be impossible to live with.”

Belami got away as soon as he politely could, promising to keep in touch with McMahon and the prince, who was expected to arrive at any moment. He bolted his horses back to Marine Parade, remembering the duchess’s carriage had been gone when he was there over an hour ago. It still wasn’t back, which filled him with foreboding. He rushed into the saloon and was handed Deirdre’s note.

As he already more or less knew they had left, he was able to make some sense out of it. Mostly he read how very sorry Deirdre was and that she was eager to see him at her new residence.

There was no denying it was a relief to enter his own house without having to deal with the duchess. Deirdre was always welcome, but he had more than once regretted having brought her and the duchess to Brighton with him. The present arrangement offered the benefit of having Deirdre close at hand without the inconvenience of the duchess under his roof.

He would be freer to come and go as he pleased, as he must at this time. All in all, he was satisfied with the arrangement, but he would go immediately to visit the ladies and confirm that the engagement was still intact.

Chapter Nine

Belami made a fresh toilette before driving around to the little cottage behind Castle Inn. He didn’t recognize the butler who admitted him, but he was assured that Miss Gower was within. Unfortunately, the duchess sat with her before a flaming grate in the Blue Saloon. He perceived no more venom than usual on the duchess’s dour face. She greeted him with her customary grim smile and allowed him to pay his respects, with a civil grunt of reply. It was only Deirdre who looked conscious of having given offense, and he was swift to reassure her of his continued regard.

Deirdre had spent an awful day of suspense, imagining the most scandalous reaction from her beloved. She was very much gratified, but also highly curious at his mild, indeed benevolent, reaction to the insult perpetrated against him.

“I hope it was no laxity on my part that caused you to leave Marine Parade,” he was saying to the duchess.

“I do not hold you entirely responsible for my niece’s misbehavior,” she told him. “I refer, of course, to her habit of returning below stairs at night after she had ostensibly retired to her bed. That cannot all be laid in your dish, Belami, though I make no doubt you egged her on to it.”

“No, truly he didn’t!” Deirdre interjected.

“An engaged couple is generally allowed a little privacy, your grace,” Belami said, not defensively but only stating an obvious fact.

“Hmpf,” her grace snorted, a little disappointed at Belami’s mild behavior, but not wanting to annoy him further. “There were half a dozen reasons for our leaving. One likes the privacy of her own establishment, and you were so much away on business that we decided to snap up this cottage when we heard of it to let.”

These excuses made no sense at all, of course. His being away so much allowed her a good deal of privacy. What did make sense, or was at least of interest, was that the cottage hired had once housed Maria Fitzherbert. Belami assumed the real reason for moving was to look around for anything Fitzherbert might have left behind. A misguided move, after so many years, but well-intentioned.

“I notice the servants came with the house,” he said. “Were any of them here when Mrs. Fitzherbert occupied the house?”

“No such luck. The first thing I did was to quiz them,” the duchess replied. “They’re slovenly and likely overpaid, but good enough for our brief visit. How is the case progressing, Belami?”

When the duchess said “the case,” she referred to Mr. Smythe, and Belami knew it. “I’m awaiting Pronto’s return from London. He should be here soon. I’ll keep you posted. Deirdre,” he continued, turning to her, “did you remember to ask your aunt about old acquaintances of Mrs. Fitzherbert, ones who might still be living in Brighton?”

“I didn’t know that ramshackle set at all,” the duchess answered. “I’ve told you so three times.”

Dick cast a resigned look at Deirdre. The duchess was conscious of having offended a very prime parti, even if she might in the end dump him, and became lenient. “I see you two wish a moment’s privacy. I shall be in the study across the hallway with the door open if you need me. I am writing a note to my London house asking some staff to come down to Brighton at once. It will take five minutes.” This was an oblique statement that she was permitting five minutes of semi-privacy. She limped across the hall and arranged her chair to allow a good view of the Blue Saloon.

“Are you very angry?” Deirdre asked in a low voice, gazing at him doubtfully. “I think it was horrid of  auntie to run from your house and not even tell you.”

“Of course I’m not angry,” he answered, smiling to reassure her. “To tell the truth, I’m half glad, though of course I miss you. It was like coming home to an empty barn to find you had gone.”

“I thought your pride at least would be hurt,” she exclaimed, surprised at his easy acceptance of the deed.

“No, no, it’s much too hardy a plant to be battered by every breeze. My pride always survives intact. It’s not as though I’m barred the door. I’ll see you every day,” he pointed out.

“And the evenings?” she asked eagerly.

“We’ll go dancing at the Old Ship one of these evenings. I expect Prinney will have a do as well now that he’s here. I may have a party myself, if time permits.” He arose and moved to sit beside her on the sofa, with a peek into the next room, to intercept a glance from the duchess, who hadn’t set pen to paper but sat like a spy, staring. It was enough to cool the hottest blood. The only familiarity Belami could contrive under such strict supervision was to hold Deirdre’s fingers and squeeze them.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked.

“Snooping around. I’ll wait at the Old Ship for Pronto’s return and see if I can learn anything new of Smythe. There’s Captain Stack, too, who bears scrutiny.”

“What about Lady Gilham?” she asked suspiciously, wondering why he didn’t mention going to her that night.

“I have no reason to call on her this evening,” he said with perfect honesty. It wasn’t till the next night that he had his assignation with her.

“Perhaps you and Pronto will find time to come by here after dinner,” she mentioned hopefully.

“I’ll certainly let you know the minute we learn anything,” he promised, which was not what she wanted to hear at all.

“I liked being at Marine Parade much better than being here,” she said. Her little pout demanded to be kissed away.

“If you don’t stop puckering your lips, Deirdre, I shall ravage you on the spot, duchess or not,” he cautioned. His head inclined purposefully toward hers.

“I’m glad you’re not angry,” she said, finally easy in her mind. “I was afraid you’d fly into the boughs and cancel our engagement.”

“You don’t get rid of me that easily, my girl,” he said, smiling.

The duchess set down her unused pen, glanced at the clock and arose with a grimace of pain for the ache in her knees. Five minutes were up, or three and a half minutes anyway, which was plenty long enough. As she strode through the hallway, she noticed a shadow at the window and hollered for the butler. Soon Mr. Smythe was being shown into the Blue Saloon.

His cheeks were rosy from the cool weather, and his blue eyes were flashing, to enhance his natural good looks.

“Ah, Mr. Smythe, you had my note informing you of my change of address,” the duchess said, greeting him with a smile that revealed her yellowing teeth and made her look so terribly like a skeleton. Belami was annoyed to hear she had written to Smythe when she hadn’t even left a note at the house for him.

“I was extremely gratified you took the bother to inform me, ma’am, and came right around to thank you.” Smythe made a tolerably fashionable bow. His eyes veered toward Deirdre as he spoke, but she was looking at Belami and didn’t even notice.

Belami had been on the point of leaving, but he settled in for a longer visit, always eager to study Smythe in hopes that he would betray himself.

“Have you been to the Royal Pavilion yet?” was the duchess’s first question for Smythe.

“My invitation is for dinner,” he replied. “I shall change and go there as soon as I leave here.”

“Be sure to give him my kindest regards. I left a card to notify him I am here,” she said. “And it is a smallish party this evening, is it?” she asked.

“He mentioned the word intimate. I hope there’s someone other than myself there,” Smythe said uneasily. “I’m afraid he’ll start up on that business of my being his son again.”

“It must be resolved one way or the other,” the duchess said calmly. “In your own interest, Mr. Smythe, you must give him every assistance in the way of childhood memories and so on.”

“What would be the point of it?” he asked simply. “What is to be gained by being proven his son? Royal by-blows are not of much account in the world and anything more is impossible…”

“One trembles to consider the upheaval if he tries to legitimize you,” the duchess said, “but you are quite mistaken in the perquisites bestowed on royal by-blows. Your being the only male one of the Prince Regent, soon to be king, might give you any position you care to think of. Remember that the Duke of Clarence, not the heir apparent, but only a younger son, has ten children and each of them is being settled. Army, navy—but that is not for the only son of the heir apparent.”

Smythe listened intently. Belami saw, or imagined, an avaricious gleam in his blue eyes. “What do you think would be a reasonable settlement? I am not at all interested in the army or navy,” Smythe said.

“I have no idea, but it would be something powerful, don’t you think, Belami?” the duchess asked.

“I expect doors would be opened; how far one advances would depend a great deal on his ability,” Belami answered.

“I might make a few discreet inquiries this evening,” Smythe said thoughtfully, stroking his chin.

The duchess served a glass of wine, and as she was too newly installed in the house to have watered it yet, it was enjoyed. Though Belami was eager to get away, he remained till Smythe took his leave and went with him, offering him a drive back to the inn.