The Book Of Scandal (38 page)

“No,” she said quickly. She wasn’t certain what Ramsey had said to her. “It’s just that I hate being here,” she said, and glanced around the room at the people she had known these last few years. “These…these people are not my friends.”

“I would guess they are not,” he said with a sigh. “Very well, then. We will leave just as soon as the supper is done.”

“Not before?” she begged him. “I can’t eat a single bite, I swear it.”

“You must do your best, Lady Lindsey. If we take our leave now, the talk will never end, you know that very well. We must put our best face on it.”

She groaned softly. “I can’t possibly do it if you are engaged with others, Nathan.”

“Then I shall remain at your side,” he said reassuringly.

She gave him a doubtful look as the footman returned with the water. “All night?”

Nathan took the water and handed it to her with a smile. “All night and forever more.”

N athan was increasingly concerned about Evelyn. She was ill at ease, her color was pallid, and she hardly spoke at all through the course of the supper, which, thankfully, went unnoticed as Lady Copperley held court at their end of the table with a very extravagant tale of the misdeeds of Princess Caroline.

Nathan had made their excuses the moment he was, by society’s standards, able to do so, and had bundled Evelyn in a fur-lined cloak and put her in the coach. On the drive home, however, Evelyn sat with her forehead against the window, staring bleakly out over the rain-soaked streets.

He could not help but wonder about her sudden despondency and if it was somehow due to Dunhill. He knew Ramsey was a friend of the prince and suspected he was a friend of Dunhill as well.

When they arrived home, Benton was there to greet them and held out a silver tray to Nathan. “Sir Wilkes has called this evening, my lord.”

Nathan glanced at the card and pocketed it. “Some tea for Lady Lindsey—”

“No, please,” Evelyn said, with a wave of her hand. “I couldn’t.” She pulled a sour face, as if the thought of tea made her ill. “I prefer to go to bed. Will you excuse me?” she asked, and started up the staircase.

Nathan followed her. Evelyn seemed not to notice or care.

In her dressing room, she wearily reached behind her and began to unbutton her gown. Nathan caught her hand. “You are unwell,” he said, and pushed her hand away and began to unbutton the gown for her.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve never seen you look quite so peaked, Evie. Perhaps you have a bit of ague. I’ll have Benton summon a doctor on the morrow—”

“I’m fine!” she snapped, and stepped away from him, continuing the unbuttoning herself.

Nathan slowly lowered his hands. “All right, then, Evelyn, what the devil is wrong? You’ve been in quite a state all evening.”

“A state?” she repeated hotly. “Yes, I suppose I am, Nathan. My reputation is in tatters and there is someone who would like to see me dead!”

Nathan sighed impatiently. “I feel the strain, too, Evelyn.”

“Do you, indeed, Nathan?” she asked crossly. “You didn’t appear to feel any strain in your high-stakes card game or with a tot or two of whiskey, and certainly not with Lady Fawcett or Lady Copperley!”

“That is not fair,” he said angrily. “I am doing my best to learn who would want to harm you. By the bye, have you ever heard of the coterie?”

“The what?” she asked, frowning at him.

“The coterie.”

Evelyn made a sound of exasperation and threw her hands up in the air. “No, I’ve not heard of the coterie!”

“Moorhouse mentioned it and said the coterie would see to Dunhill.”

“I don’t want to hear his name!” she cried, putting her hands to her ears.

Her reaction angered him—they wouldn’t be in this perilous situation if she’d turned a deaf ear to his name several months ago. “I am sorry for that,” he bit out, “but you will hear his name until we get to the bottom of this.”

“Then perhaps you should ask Lord Ramsey,” she said, and Nathan realized tears were filling her eyes. “He seems to think I know something, too.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you weren’t there!” she exclaimed. “You were smiling at Lady Fawcett at the time and besides, he threatened me if I told you!”

A different sort of anger soared in him, and Nathan quickly crossed the room, forcing her around to him. “What do you mean he threatened you?”

“Only that I would do well to repeat that I had no idea what I knew and to repeat it in particular to you, as your inquiry was making some people anxious.”

Nathan dropped his hands from her and wheeled about, striding for the door.

“Where are you going?” Evelyn cried.

“Isn’t it apparent? To have a conversation with Lord Ramsey.”

“No!” she cried. “No, you can’t, Nathan.”

“You are safe,” he said irritably, anxious to be on his way.

“You don’t understand,” she said as tears began to fall. “I am very frightened, I—”

“I know you are frightened, Evelyn, but I have the best men at your disposal. You are well protected, you must trust me.”

“That is not what I mean!”

“Then what?” he exclaimed roughly. “For God’s sake, what?”

“I am…I…” She collapsed onto a stool and bent over her knees.

“God in heaven!” Nathan cried angrily. “What is wrong with you, Evelyn? I am doing my best to mend this mess, but I cannot help you until I have! Stop crying!”

She sniffed loudly. “I can’t seem to stop,” she said tearfully, and looked up at him. “I want to laugh, but I cry. I feel sad, and I smile. I’m at loggerheads with myself.”

Nathan groaned impatiently.

“I’m pregnant, Nathan.”

The floor seemed to drop out from beneath Nathan’s feet. The walls seemed to close in on him, then fall away again. He could see nothing but his wife sitting across the room on that stool, her expression full of fear and hope.

A child. The notion quickly swelled inside him, filling his heart with shock and elation and paralyzing fear.

“I’m sorry!” she said, and burst into tears, burying her face in her hands.

Nathan was moving instantly. He fell to one knee before her, cupped her face in his hands, wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs, then dropped his hands to her arms and looked at her waist.

A child.

He understood Evelyn’s fear—he feared it himself. Was it really possible they might have another chance? Could they produce a healthy child?

He placed his hand against her abdomen. “Dear God,” he whispered reverently. “My God. Are you certain, Evie? It took so long…”

“I know,” she said with a wry smile. “I don’t understand it, either. Nathan, how will we endure it?” she asked, meaning, he knew full well, another sick child.

“We will,” he said resolutely. But the ugly thought that someone wanted his wife—and now, his child—dead suddenly rose above all the myriad things Nathan was feeling. A very primal emotion overtook him—the need to protect and defend. Single-minded, he rose to his feet. Nothing would stand in his way now. He put his fingers beneath Evelyn’s chin and tipped her face up to his. “All will be well, Evie. You have my word.” He would protect her and the child he carried with his own life if it came to that. “But I must see Ramsey,” he added, and leaned down to kiss her. “Sleep easy, love. The king’s army could not penetrate this house.”

With Evelyn behind a locked door, and Seth positioned outside of it, Nathan took up his cloak again and went out into the London night. He returned to Cumberland’s house and waited in his coach, watching the guests as they trickled out over the course of an hour or more to their carriages.

Ramsey was one of the last to emerge, staggering a little in the company of a pair of friends. They boarded a coach with Ramsey’s insignia blazoned on the outside; Nathan opened the vent between him and the driver. “The Ramsey house on Green Street,” he ordered.

The coach lurched forward.

When Ramsey had divested himself of his friends and returned to his home, Nathan was waiting in the shadows for him. As the coach pulled out of the drive and around to the mews, Ramsey stumbled up the steps to his house. Nathan moved silently from the shadows behind him, and as the bastard reached for the door, Nathan lunged.

He tackled the drunken viscount, knocking him to the ground and rolling down the steps with him. He had Ramsey on his back, and Ramsey frantically began to fight. His inebriation affected his aim, however, and he swung blindly. Nathan swung only once, connecting with his jaw.

“Damn you!” Ramsey sputtered.

Nathan caught Ramsey’s collar and yanked his head up. “Tell me what you know about the threat against my wife!”

“I don’t know a damn thing about your wife,” Ramsey said.

Nathan backhanded him, splitting Ramsey’s lip.

“I will see you hang for this, Lindsey!”

Nathan was hardly moved by his threat—he caught the knot of neckcloth and twisted, choking him. “You will tell me what you know about the threat against my wife, or you will die like the dog you are here on the drive,” he said evenly, and released the pressure on his neck.

“You’re mad!” Ramsey managed hoarsely.

Nathan twisted again. “What do you know about the threat against Dunhill?” he asked angrily as Ramsey frantically clawed at his hand. Nathan let go of his neckcloth. “Speak, you bloody scoundrel!”

“Dunhill…” Ramsey winced. “He knew of the plot against the princess—”

“What plot?” Nathan asked, pinning the man’s arms.

Ramsey coughed; blood dribbled from a cut at the corner of his mouth. “Ask Dunhill,” he spat.

Nathan was in no mood for games. He reached for the gun in his boot and pressed the barrel of it against Ramsey’s forehead.

Now Ramsey’s eyes widened with terror. “Do you really think you can do this without consequence?”

“Someone would see my wife dead, sir. That is all the consequence I need. The consequence to you, however, is death,” Nathan said calmly. “What plot against the princess?”

Ramsey swallowed. “All right, all right!” he said frantically. “Remove the gun and I’ll tell you.” When Nathan withdrew it, Ramsey said, “The princess was involved in a carriage accident in Leatherhead a month past. It was intentional—she was meant to die, but unfortunately, it was mishandled and her lady-in-waiting, Miss Cholmondeley, was killed instead. Somehow, the princess discovered the plot and told the king and now…now the king’s men are searching for the culprits, and they will surely hang. I merely meant to warn your wife that if she knew anything, she would do well to keep it to herself.”

“Who was behind the plot?” Nathan demanded. “Dunhill?”

“No,” Ramsey said. “He was only privy to it. Men he knew—”

“Who?” Nathan insisted, and pressed the tip of his gun against Ramsey’s forehead once more.

“I don’t know!” Ramsey cried. “I only know that they are called the prince’s coterie! They fancy themselves the power behind the prince, but I know nothing more than—”

“Who are they?” Nathan shouted.

“Look around you, Lindsey!” Ramsey cried. “They surround the prince and they surround you! Some you call friend!”

Stunned, Nathan could not react before the sound of men’s voices coming down the drive reached him. They were running, he realized.

He dropped his gun in his pocket and stood up.

“You will pay for this, Lindsey,” Ramsey said through clenched teeth.

“My lord!” someone shouted from behind.

Nathan began striding toward the street, uncaring of the commotion behind him, uncaring of anything but who of his friends was in this coterie, his mind running around all the inconceivable possibilities.

E velyn was awakened by Nathan’s familiar weight as he crawled into bed with her. He moved close, his chest warm on her back, and put his hand protectively on her stomach. He sighed softly into her hair; Evelyn covered his hand with her own and gripped it tightly.

Neither of them spoke for several moments. “What if it is sick?” she whispered.

“What if it is healthy and beautiful like its mother?”

The tears, always present these last few days, filled her eyes again. “Or handsome and strong, like its father?”

Nathan kissed her shoulder. “Do you recall how Robert would say peas for please?”

Evelyn smiled in the dark. “I remember how he would laugh when you wrestled with him, Nathan. Oh how he laughed.”

“And I remember the way he looked at you, Evie. He loved his mother very much.”

She remembered, too. “I can’t help but be afraid of burying another child,” she admitted. “I don’t think I could survive it.”

“I pray we never face such tragedy again. But if the child is healthy, imagine the joy it will bring us.”

It was true, there was no greater joy. Evelyn twisted around to face him. “I want to hope, too.”

He smiled, stroked her temple. “Then we shall hope. We will think only good thoughts and trust in the Lord that the child will be born healthy.”

Yes, they could only trust…but before they could do anything, they had to end the danger to her life. Evelyn closed her eyes. “You found Lord Ramsey, then?”

Nathan stroked her hair. He seemed reluctant to speak, but at last said, “I did,” and told her what Ramsey had said about the carriage accident.

Evelyn was horrified. “Who would do such a vile thing?” He didn’t have to tell her it was the same people who would do it to her.

“I trust you never heard of the scheme?”

“Of course not! Had I heard it, I would have gone straight to the king and queen, you may be sure!”

“I believe you,” he said. “I had hoped that Dunhill had said something, however vague.”

She shook her head.

“Tell me who he considered a friend,” he asked.

How she wished she’d never been involved with Pierce! “Ramsey, as you know,” she said. “Beaverton, when he is in town—they liked to shoot. Eldingham, I believe.” She thought back, to the soirées, to the balls, to the supper parties. He was friendly with so many people, quite popular as it were. “Is that what you mean?”

“That is precisely what I mean,” he said, and kissed the tip of her nose. “We must rest now. You need to rest.”