The Duke Conspiracy (9 page)

He enjoyed Rose's innocent view of him and he
hated to disabuse her of it. However, he could clearly see she was
anxious to get to the bottom of the entire plot and so was he.
Wishing she would confide in him her reasons for distrusting the
knight, Alex was forced to proceed without all the information at
his disposal. He couldn't blame her for her aversion to the man.
Alex didn't much care for him either.

Drawing out the silence as long as he could,
Alex was not surprised when Rose broke it first.

“Well, what do you have to say? I really
cannot remain here much longer, Your Grace. If I do not have much
drawing accomplished, my mother will wonder why I have been gone so
long.”

Intrigued, Alex had to ask, “Does she check
your sketchbook whenever you return home?”

Enjoying the blush staining her cheeks he had
to strain to hear her huff, “Well, of course not.”

Letting her off the hook, Alex returned to
her question. “I will admit to you that while I do not enjoy
anything underhanded overmuch, I really do feel I must get to the
bottom of this matter. We need to find out why they targeted me and
how Sir Broderick is involved.”

“Do you not think the Austens decided to
target you because you are a wealthy, unmarried duke?”

Alex felt his cheeks burn over her comment
but shrugged indifferently. “I am far from being the only wealthy,
unmarried nobleman, and if they were smart they would have striven
for someone a little lower on the social structure, like a
viscount. There are several unattached viscounts who have plenty of
blunt. It would be far less remarkable for the daughter of an
impoverished viscount to become engaged to another viscount, or
even an earl, than to a duke.”

“That is true, Your Grace, but changes little
about the situation,” Rose offered. “It could just mean that their
ambitions know very little bounds.”

“Or that they are stupid beyond belief,” Alex
could not help adding. “Surely they must realize that a duke has
connections and resources they could never imagine in order to
prevent any sort of misalliance.”

“They could have been relying on your
inexperience,” Rose countered in a low voice. Alex could see she
did not wish to elaborate, but then she continued, “Everyone knows
you were not your father's heir for very long.”

Alex knew it was difficult for her to refer
to their shared loss so he allowed it to pass without comment.
Instead, he continued as though she had said nothing. “It would
seem to me that they must be after me for some sort of a political
agenda, perhaps something connected to the House of Lords. If it
was just an ambitious debutante I would brush it off and ensure I
was never alone with her. But the fact that you heard her father
conspiring with someone else on the matter implies there is more to
it than just a good marriage for an impoverished family.”

“Do you have any ideas who might be after
you? Or what they might be trying to accomplish in such a way? If
we have some ideas we will be in a better position to begin our
investigation.”

Alex gazed at his old friend in admiration.
If anyone had ever told him he would be standing in Burlington
House surrounded by Elgin's Marbles debating with Miss Rosamund
Smythe about who might be conspiring to entrap him into marriage,
he would never have believed such a claim. But here they were. And
she looked mighty fetching as she gazed up at him expectantly. He
had to make an effort to remember what she had said. Oh yes,
something about ideas to investigate. He wondered absently what she
could possibly know about investigations and clues and all that.
But she was right. They needed to have a direction. The only
trouble was he was drawing a blank about any possible ideas.

All he could do was shrug helplessly. “I am
so sorry, Rose, but I have absolutely no idea where to start. To
the best of my knowledge I have never had any dealings with
Broderick. I developed an instant dislike of the man upon first
making his acquaintance, but I cannot even tell you why, as we have
barely conversed.”

The duke was clearly flabbergasted over this
development and was even slightly ashamed to not have a ready
solution. Rose must have realized this. She hastened to reassure
him. “Never mind about that. We both agreed earlier that the best
place for us to start is with Lady Anne. That will have to be my
job, as you will just be walking straight into their plot if you
try to do anything about it. Now, I really must be going, so we
must hurry and establish another appointment to meet up to discuss
any of our findings. In the meantime, you should speak to your
solicitors or man of affairs or whatever you might have along those
lines and see if they are aware of any issues Broderick might have
with you. Those gentlemen might know more on the subject than
you.”

“How did you get so smart about such
things?”

Alex was intrigued by the blush that spread
over her face at this unanswerable question. The only thing she
could offer was “My father is a diplomat,” with as much dignity as
possible.

Alex allowed the moment to pass and was
rewarded by the look of relief on her face. He hurried to make an
appointment as they saw her maid approaching. “Would it be remarked
upon if you come here again tomorrow or the next day?”

“Probably not,” Rose answered. “My mother
never rises before noon and is really only concerned with how I
spend my evenings. But you had best give me at least one day to try
to make the acquaintance of Lady Anne, so let us say the day after
tomorrow. That gives me a day and a half to gather as much
information as possible. I shall start with my friend Lady
Elizabeth. She is a font of knowledge about the
ton,
as well
as being friendly with Lady Anne.” While she was speaking she
fumbled with her drawing supplies, finally tucking them under her
arm. “Wish me luck,” she concluded as she once more faced the
duke.

The duke watched a myriad of emotions chase
themselves across his companion's face. He was unable to identify
most of them, but he thought she looked rather wistful as she
offered him a brief curtsy before she hurried away without another
word.

Alex stood in the same spot for several
moments, watching her retreating figure, wondering if she would
look back before exiting the building. He was unprepared for the
profound disappointment that swept over him as she strode away with
purpose, never once glancing back in his direction. Slowly bringing
his focus back to the statue she had been sketching, the duke
allowed the entire interlude to play itself out in his mind. Giving
his head a shake to rid himself of the melancholy that had befallen
him, he followed in her footsteps and strode from the hall.

“Good day, Walter,” the duke greeted Wesley's
butler as the footman held the door for him. “Is the viscount ready
to see guests, do you suppose?”

The well trained retainer did not reveal his
surprise at seeing the duke at such an hour. The viscount and his
friends rarely saw the morning hours. “If you would care to wait, I
will check for you, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Walter. Pray convey my apologies,
but it is a rather urgent matter. His lordship need not make
himself overly presentable; I just need a few minutes of his
time.”

“Very good, Your Grace. If you will make
yourself comfortable in the yellow room I shall be but a
moment.”

Alex could not sit still. He paced about the
room while he waited. Gazing about at the walls that gave the room
its name, he wondered absently what Rose would think of the color,
remembering with a smile the description she had given of Lord
Austen's waistcoat.
Would she refer to it as jonquil or
primrose?
he asked himself with a widening smile.

“What are you grinning about, standing in
here by yourself?” the Viscount of Bracondale demanded as he strode
into the room in his dressing coat. “And what, pray tell, are you
doing in my receiving room at this hour? Walter said it was urgent.
Can it wait long enough for me to break my fast, or do we need to
ride for the border on the instant?”

Alex truly did grin at his friend's choice of
words. “No riding will be necessary at the moment, I merely need to
run a few ideas past you. We can adjourn to your breakfast room if
you would like, but I would prefer to be private if you do not
mind.”

“If you can tolerate me in my state of
disarray, then I can manage to serve myself. Let us not stand upon
ceremony, you can help yourself to whatever you would like as
well.” Wesley led the way to his dining room where a vast array of
dishes had been spread for his enjoyment.

“All this for just you?” Alex asked with
surprise. “It would seem to me that my staff is slacking. They do
not provide me half this much most mornings,” he complained
half-heartedly.

“Mayhap my staff knows I can afford more
waste than you can,” teased the viscount.

“Or perhaps my staff knows I loathe growing
fat,” Alex countered, laughing over the glower that was cast his
way in response.

A few moments later, after the worst of his
hunger had been sated, Wesley sat back with a strong cup of coffee
in his hand. With a sigh of satisfaction he faced his guest. “Very
well, Your Grace, I am sufficiently fortified to hear about this
emergency that has struck you so early this morning. What has
happened since we saw each other last night?”

“Rosie Smythe has happened,” Alex stated
without preamble.

Wesley grew serious but strove for levity.
“What does Miss Smythe have to do with you arriving at such an
unholy hour upon my doorstep?”

“The chit asked to meet me at Burlington
House this morning, where she was sketching. She had overheard a
conversation involving me and felt the need to tell me about
it.”

“Interesting,” was all the viscount had to
say. “What kind of a conversation would be able to make a Smythe
speak to a Wrentham?”

“She overheard Lord Austen and Sir Broderick
conspiring to have Lady Anne entrap me into marriage.”

Now Wesley was at a loss for words. This was
but momentary. “Why would she care?” was his first question,
dripping with suspicion, as he clearly felt protective of his
friend. This was quickly followed by an exasperated exclamation.
“And did you really believe her tale? Do you not find it rather
difficult to imagine Lady Anne participating in any sort of a
scheme against you? And what could Lord Austen and Sir Broderick
possibly have to gain by concocting such a plot?”

Much to Alex's amusement, Wesley now rose
from the table and began to pace. Not wishing to interrupt his
perambulations, Alex forbore to comment as Wesley continued to
rant. “I do not think you truly bought into Miss Smythe's tale, you
are merely baiting me with this story, are you not, Your Grace?
There is no way she would approach you with such a farfetched
Banbury tale. You would never believe it, and what could she
possibly have to gain by it? No, if the chit did arrange a meeting
with you and you are not merely stringing me along, she must have
had some sort of havey-cavey scheme of her own afoot. No doubt in
cahoots with her parents. You must be on your guard, Ancroft.”

With these impassioned words the viscount
threw himself back into his chair, gazing at the duke expectantly.
Meanwhile, Alex was still smiling over his friend's use of his
former title—in his distress he had reverted to his old form of
address.

“I appreciate your concern, Bracondale,” he
drawled with gentle emphasis, “but I have to admit to you that I
do, in fact, believe Miss Smythe. I have known Rosie for most of
her life and I do not think she was lying to me. I really do
believe she overheard a conversation between Lord Austen and Sir
Broderick in which a conspiracy to entrap me into marriage with
Lady Anne was discussed. Whether or not it is as dire a situation
as she seems to think remains to be seen. As far as I know, those
two gentlemen do not have any sort of grudge against me and I never
would have thought Lady Anne had it in her to participate in any
such thing.”

“But if what you say is true and Miss Smythe
did overhear such a conversation, why would she bother to warn you
of it? Would it not be your just desserts in her mind?”

Alex offered a rather wan smile over his
friend's weak attempt at humor. “She is a forward little minx who
cannot keep her thoughts to herself. She will be the death of
whichever man has the misfortune of marrying her. Her managing ways
were adorable when she was six. I am not so certain they are nearly
as attractive now that she has reached twenty summers.”

Seeing that the viscount was eyeing him with
marked amusement, Alex gave his head a shake and answered his
friend's question. “I believe there remains within her a trace of
loyalty toward the relationship we once enjoyed. And she mentioned
some sort of nonsense about loyalty to the crown that I could not
fully understand. I was sidetracked at the moment and did not ask
her to elaborate. I think the poor dear has been overmuch in
company with her diplomat father, who would of necessity be at all
times concerned with matters of state.”

“Well, you
are
a duke, do you suppose
there is a kernel of truth to that?” Now Wesley's loyalties, always
on the duke's side, swung to include Miss Smythe if she were, in
fact, defending his friend.

“She has directed me to discuss the matter
with my solicitors and determine if they are aware of any issues
those two might have against me personally. In the meantime, she is
going to attempt to forge a relationship with Lady Anne in order to
see if she can find out anything from that quarter.”

Now Wesley was again incredulous. “You mean
she is going to help you with the matter? Are you absolutely
certain she has no ulterior motives?”