Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval (27 page)

Anna went to the door that led to the servants’ staircase and pushed it open. To her considerable relief, no one was using it at that moment. It would be difficult to explain why she was doing so if anyone saw her. She tripped lightly down the stairs, expecting at any moment to be challenged, but she saw no one. Presumably, the servants had a little time to themselves at this hour also. Certainly, she heard voices and laughter coming from the direction of the kitchen. Taking advantage of the staff’s preoccupation, she slipped through the boot room and out into the mews. Harry, the lad who cared for Betty, saw her and looked surprised. She held a finger to her lips to silence him and, keeping to the edge of the building so as not to be observed from an upstairs windows, she made her way cautiously to the street.

Moon Street was not far away and Anna walked briskly, keeping her eyes focused directly ahead of her. The weather had turned bitterly cold again and heavy clouds threatened more snow. Thoughts of her snowball fight with Clarence temporarily robbed her of her resolve. Perhaps there was a way she could make this work after all.

No, she told herself, there most definitely was not. She refused to settle for half measures, and that was all there was to be said on the subject.

Anna reached the building in which Clarence’s apartment was housed. The door to the street was not locked, and she pushed her way through it, into a refined entrance lobby with a chequered floor. There was a desk for a porter, which was unattended. Good. She had not stopped to think how she would explain her presence to anyone other than Clarence. Before the porter could return, she slipped up the stairs to the first floor. Clarence lived in apartment 2c, which appeared to be at the back of the building, facing the gardens. She stood outside his door, took a deep breath, and then knocked.

Her knock was answered by a manservant, who looked at her closely, his expression giving nothing away.

“I am here to see Lord Romsey,” she said, tilting her chin, defying him to send her on her way again.

Her upper class accent must have persuaded the man, because he stood back and allowed her into the hall.

“Whom shall I say requires to see him?”

Before Anna could answer him, Clarence stepped into the hall. He saw her, stopped dead in his tracks, and then blinked as though his eyes deceived him.

“Annalise? What on earth brings you here?”

Annalise looked up at him warily, probably taken aback by the anger he was making no effort to keep from his expression. The reckless nature he had briefly found so refreshing no longer seemed quite so enticing. He had changed his mind about her being intelligent, too. She clearly did precisely as she pleased, without sparing a thought for the consequences. Sampson was standing impassively to one side, reminding Clarence of the awkwardness of the situation, if any reminder was necessary. There was a remote possibility Annalise had a legitimate reason for calling, he supposed. Best discover if that was the case before sending her packing.

“Allow me to take your cloak,” he said, his crisp tone formal, rigid.

Annalise removed her hood slowly, a flash of wariness passing through her expression, as though she suddenly realised just how angry Clarence was with her. With a careless shrug that was more in character, she then removed the cloak itself and sent him a challenging look as she handed it to him. She wasn’t wearing a bonnet, and her curls were in tumbled disarray. Clarence refused to be diverted from his justifiable annoyance by thoughts of just how glorious those curls would look, spread out beneath her on a pillow.

“Go with Pierce to the Foreign Office,” Clarence said to Sampson in an undertone. “Take the carriage and keep a sharp lookout. Defend those papers with your life. Do not show them to anyone until I get there. I am unsure whom to trust. If Castlereagh should happen to see you before I arrive, tell him I shall be there in an hour to explain everything.”

Clarence took Anna’s elbow in a grip tight enough to bring tears to her eyes. He noticed them and relaxed his hand, just fractionally.

“Please tell me you did not come alone,” he said, his voice tight with controlled anger.

“Well of course I did. I wished to speak with you.”

They were now in his drawing room, which doubled as his library. It was a room he had never imagined Annalise would see, but was too irate to wonder what she made of it. He shook his head and invited her, with an exaggerated bow, to take a seat beside the fire. He reached for his discarded coat, and then thought better of it. Annalise would have to become accustomed to the sight of him in waistcoat and shirtsleeves, which was the way he preferred to work.

“I don’t know why you are so cross with me.” She tilted her chin in a defiant gesture he was starting to recognise. “The walk was short, and no one could have recognised me beneath my cloak. Even if they did, it is not me they wish to speak with. I was perfectly safe.”

“Even allowing for the fact that ladies of quality
never
venture out alone in London—”

“Don’t think to lecture me, Clarence. I came because it was necessary. I have three things I most urgently need to talk with you about.”

Yea gods!
“So urgent that it could not wait until I call at Berkeley Square again this evening, as I said I would? What could possibly be that urgent, especially when you knew I had more pressing matters to occupy my mind?”

“Unless your duties prevented you from calling. Besides, we are never completely alone at Sheridan House, and what I have to say ought not to be heard by others.”

Clarence shook his head, astonished by her naiveté, or was it more a case of selfish determination? “Frankie is the person von Hessel wishes to speak with, it’s true. But he will also know by now that I have her husband’s papers. The people he sent to Winchester will have discovered that much. He also knows you and I are engaged. If he found you wandering the streets alone, what do you suppose he would have done?”

“Oh lud, I did not think.” She raised a hand to cover her mouth, contrite but still not seeming especially concerned by the problems she could have created. “Still, no one
did
see me, so it does not signify.”

There was no reasoning with her. “You will be missed at Sheridan House sooner rather than later. Think how distressed your family will become if you cannot be found. Again.”

She lifted her shoulders. “I will be back before they know it.”

“Once you are missed, this is the first place your brothers will look for you. Do you really imagine they will believe I did not invite you here?”

“I will not allow that.”

Clarence sighed. Vince and Nate, possibly Winchester also, would not give her the opportunity to explain before they resorted to violence. Her younger brothers still bore him a grudge, even though he and Annalise were now engaged. “What did you wish to talk to me about so urgently?”

“Well, firstly an apology.” She looked him unflinchingly in the eye. “I did not behave well this morning, and was quite ashamed of myself afterwards. I know how important your duty is to you, and I should not have shown how upset I was at your eagerness to return to it.”

“Thank you,” he replied, his temper cooling fractionally. Her apology was hardly necessary and could most certainly have waited. But the fact that it weighed so heavily on her conscience that she felt compelled to call upon him and make it said much for her character. “Your apology is accepted, but you ought not to have taken such a risk to make it.”

“I also wanted to offer my help reading Lord St. John’s papers,” she said. “I thought that way we could resolve the problem more quickly. I may not know much about diplomacy…” She bit her lip, as though attempting to quell a giggle. The gesture was so typical of her, so uncontrived, that the remnants of Clarence’s anger fell away. He would have the devil’s own job keeping control of her when they were married, but it was a task he relished. “All right, I know nothing about diplomacy, but I
can
read.”

“Thank you, but we have found the documents already. I was about to take them to the Foreign Office when you arrived.”

“You know what was behind it all?” She bounced on her seat and sat forward, full of energy and excitement. “Do tell. Oh, but I am keeping you from the Foreign Secretary. No wonder you don’t want me here.”

Oh, I want you. Rather desperately
.

“Don’t worry. Castlereagh keeps all his visitors waiting a mandatory hour, no matter how urgent their business. I think it makes him feel more important. Pierce and Sampson are there now with the documents. I will join them when I have seen you safely home.”

“Then please tell me what this was all about. I must know.”

“It is very simply actually. It transpires that Wahlstadt, the favoured nephew, is not quite as brave in battle as von Hessel. Someone, somewhere must have got wind of that fact, which is why St. John was detailed to quiz some of the soldiers in his regiment.”

“What happened?”

“The Prussian cavalry were in the throes of reorganisation at the time of the battle of Waterloo. To say they were a shambles would be an understatement. Guns and equipment continued to arrive during and after the battle, but these handicaps were offset by the Prussian army. It had professional leadership and acquitted itself well, concentrating on the battle at twenty-four hours’ notice.” Clarence paused. “All except Wahlstadt’s regiment. Orders were sent down the line to attack at a vital time, but Wahlstadt claims not to have received them. The enemy broke through the area he was supposed to hold, and many lives were unnecessarily lost as a consequence.”

Annalise gasped. “He was a coward?”

“Absolutely. It’s evident from St. John’s personal diaries he spoke to a number of men in Wahlstadt’s regiment, who all said the same thing. All but two of those statements have disappeared.”

Anna gasped. “So, you
do
think Lord St. John was killed for them?”

“It is looking increasingly likely. Fortunately, they failed to find two of the most damning ones. They were the oldest ones and St. John kept them with his personal journals, presumably because he didn’t know whom to trust with them.” Clarence shook his head. “I know just how he feels.”

“But you have them now?”

“Oh yes, I have them now, and because of it we might well be able to prevent Prussia and the Russians going to war.”

“How?” She looked up at him with adorable faith in his abilities shining from her eyes.

“Brandenburg makes no secret of the fact he puts military valour ahead of all other considerations. He is a patriot and expects all able-bodied men to fight for their country, especially his nephews. When he hears of Wahlstadt’s cowardice, which we shall ensure he does, Wahlstadt will not become his heir. Naturally, we shall also ensure he hears of von Hessel’s despicable attempts to accrue evidence against his cousin.” Clarence rubbed his jaw. “In his position, I would have tried to find that evidence, too. I can certainly understand how ill-used he must have felt, knowing his cousin was a coward and seeing his uncle heap accolades on him. It is the way he went about it that I take exception to. Besides, he would be no better at keeping peace than his cousin.”

“Could he not have spoken to the same soldiers as Lord St. John did?”

“They were too scared of Wahlstadt to speak publicly. I understand from St. John’s diaries he had to use stealth, cunning, and bribery to get them to talk to him. Von Hessel wouldn’t know how to act diplomatically. If he did, he would not have had the ludicrous idea of kidnapping Frankie, or rather, you.”

“What a terrible farrago.” She canted her head and smiled at him. “If this is the sort of international muddle you have to juggle with the entire time, you must be exhausted.”

Clarence returned her smile. He was powerless to help himself. “Your name will not be mentioned, of course, but Brandenburg will learn of von Hessel’s heavy-handed tactics through diplomatic channels. He is not stupid and will know he’ll make an enemy out of Britain if he favours von Hessel. He cannot take that risk.”

“Which leaves the remaining nephew. The one with the twisted leg.”

“And by far the best man to succeed Brandenburg. He is a thinker, not a fighter, and knows what is best for both his country and Europe generally.” Clarence smiled. “We will have no problems with Brandenburg if Heinrich takes control.”

“He is like you, then. You prefer cerebral solutions.”

“I have seen more than my fair share of wars. They resolve nothing.”

“But men
like
fighting.”

“Not all men.”

“Well, I am very glad we have got to the bottom of it all. Frankie will be able to leave Sheridan House now, if she wishes to.”

Clarence lifted one brow. “What makes you think she will not?”

Annalise shook her head. “A thinker and an observer, but you do not see everything.”

“Very likely not.” He smiled at her. “What else did you wish to speak to me about, Annalise? You said there were three things.”

***

Anna inhaled sharply, her stomach fluttering with nerves. Now that the time had come, she hardly knew how to start, or if she even wanted to. She was so very proud of Clarence, of the way he had reasoned it all out and already thought of a diplomatic way to avoid another European war that might well have seen England dragged into it in defence of her allies. But she could tell she commanded less than half of his attention, and suspected his thoughts were already on his forthcoming meeting with the Foreign Secretary. That realisation strengthened her resolve.

“It’s about our engagement. I thought it best, before Mama gets carried away with the arrangements, that we agreed between ourselves we would not suit.”

He had been lounged in an elegant sprawl in the chair across from her. She could see at once that her words had taken him by surprise. He sat up straight and looked at her askance.

“Why ever not?”

“Oh, Clarence, don’t be so obtuse! You only offered for me to save my reputation, which you have done most adequately, just as you do most things. After another few weeks, it will be perfectly safe to break the engagement, and no one will remember our silly snowball fight, or the fact that…well, I think it would be for the best.”