Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three) (17 page)

When their business with the Drapers was finally concluded,
Arthur and Vanessa talked strategy on their way back to the inn.  Arthur sent
off a note to Newcastle, explaining their mission and saying they would call on
him the next day in the early afternoon.   While Vanessa would’ve liked to call
earlier to complete this leg of the mission as soon as possible, she knew it
wasn’t considered good
ton
to call earlier than nuncheon.  And from what
Arthur had said, Newcastle was definitely someone who wouldn’t look kindly on
bad manners.

She wasn’t sure when he’d become “Arthur” and not “Lord
Arthur.”  But she had a feeling it wasn’t a good indicator of her future
happiness.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Neither Arthur nor Vanessa got much sleep that night.   It
was as if after coming so close to making love the night before, they needed
some time apart to decide what would happen next in their relationship.  Not
that either of them raised the topic.   From leaving the Drapers’ shop, through
dinner and then on to the awkwardly small bed they had to share, they spoke of
everything but the budding passion between then.  Arthur entertained her with
tales from growing up at Lynwood Manor.  She told him about some of the cases
she’d worked on at the Home Office.  She tried to keep the names confidential,
but since the
ton
was so small, any time she described a suspect in even
the most general terms, he was able to guess.

They talked well into the early hours of the morning.  Then
they both fell silent and pretended to sleep.  It didn’t work for either of
them until the hours close to dawn.

When they rose the next day, there was a message waiting
from Dumbarton.  He had almost cracked the third code which would, of course, be
deemed unbreakable by anyone else.  He’d also enclosed another five pounds, but
since it had necessitated delving further into his savings, this loan would
carry a ten percent interest charge.  Arthur had the urge to return the
interest to him in the form of coins shoved down his throat, but he pocketed
the funds anyway as they left for their visit with the Duke of Newcastle.

The castle itself was a monstrosity.  A real-life showcase
of architectural styles throughout the centuries, it appeared that each new
duke had strived to outdo his predecessors by ensuring that the newest addition
was larger than the last.  The result was a lopsided tribute to hubris.  The
grounds were manicured to the very inch with nature forced to follow the duke’s
every command.  The obvious wealth of the castle – the fountains, the landscaping
and the large expanse of ground simply given over to a garden – was in direct
contrast to the small tenant farms Arthur and Vanessa had passed.  All had
shown signs of age and decay.  Sunken roofs, crumbling foundations and
ramshackle outbuildings matched the look of despair in the eyes of the people
who lived there.  Some farms were completely uninhabited, the former tenants
having been driven off by high rents and low production.

“Does Newcastle know what’s happening on his land?” asked
Vanessa, as their carriage passed two young children working in a field.

“He knows,” said Arthur.  “From what I’ve heard, his sins
haven’t been committed by negligent stewards.  Newcastle prides himself on knowing
everything that goes on within the grounds of his estates.  He just doesn’t
care.”

“So the challenge will be to hide your true feelings for the
man if we wish to leave with the chalice,” said Vanessa.

“I take your meaning,” said Arthur grudgingly.  “I shall
play nice with him.  But I hope we can conclude our business quickly.  The
longer I remain in his presence, the greater the chance I shall tell him my
true feelings.”

“Which wouldn’t do the mission any good.”

“No, but it would certainly make me feel better.”

The carriage drew to a halt in front of the castle.  An army
of liveried footman came racing out to receive them.  Each was careful not to
make eye contact with Arthur or Vanessa.  They were shown into the house and ushered
into a receiving room.  It had a giant fireplace at both ends, tall enough for
a person to stand within.

“It’s probably how he disposes of unruly servants,” mused
Arthur, just as the double doors were opened by footmen and the Duke of
Newcastle entered the room.

The Duke was in his late thirties and dressed as if to go
riding.  Though several inches shorter than Arthur, Newcastle carried himself
with the arrogance of a duke.  He had a full head of blond hair.  The slight
paunch around his middle was nicely disguised by a well-tailored riding
jacket.  Before saying a word, he looked Arthur up and down, as if assessing
his clothing.  After finding nothing to criticize and certainly not wanting to
compliment the man, he looked Vanessa up and down then took another viewing for
good measure.  It was then that he smiled for the first time.

“Kellington, welcome to my home,” he said, even though he
was looking only at Vanessa.

“Thank you, Newcastle,” said Arthur, suppressing – for the
moment – the urge to draw the man’s cork.  “May I introduce the lady I wrote to
you about, Miss Vanessa Gans?”

“Charmed, my dear,” said Newcastle, as he bowed over her
hand, bringing her fingers to his mouth.

“How do you do, your grace,” she replied.  “Thank you for
seeing us.”

Newcastle waved them to the settee.  They both sank down a
few inches on the soft surface.  Newcastle sat on a chair across from them,
which placed his head several inches higher than theirs.  Arthur said nothing,
but his crooked grin gave away his thoughts well enough that Vanessa stepped on
his foot as a warning.

“I must say I’m intrigued by this business,” said
Newcastle.  “You say someone wishes to steal the chalice?  I cannot imagine why
now when it has been no secret that my family has held on to the chalice for
generations, ever since it was entrusted to us by King Richard on his return
from the Crusades.  He and my great, great, great something or other apparently
had quite a time of it while they were far from England’s shores.  I don’t
recall your family being involved in the Crusades, Kellington.”

“I believe my ancestors stayed at home while yours and the
King were pillaging Muslim lands.”

Newcastle tsked.  “You have too much of Lynwood in you,
Kellington.  He’s forever prosing on and on about England’s responsibility to
act fairly in foreign lands.  Smacks of treason to me, it does.”

“Tread carefully, Newcastle,” said Arthur in a calm, but
deadly voice.  “No one speaks ill of Lynwood in my presence.  And accusations
of treason would be met by the most serious of all challenges.”

Vanessa, who was appalled by the insult to Lynwood, put her
hand on Arthur’s arm to try and calm him.  He hadn’t raised his voice, but the
tenor of it had left no doubt to his sincerity.

Newcastle must have recognized the threat as well, because
his eyes widened fractionally.  But then he noticed the familiarity of
Vanessa’s touch to Arthur’s arm and changed tactics.  “Of course, I mean no
insult to your esteemed brother, Kellington.  The man takes his loyalty to King
and country as seriously as some lords do their gaming and women.  How has your
luck at the tables been going?  You certainly spend enough time there.”

“It is well enough,” Arthur gritted out.

“If you please, your grace,” intervened Vanessa, “I should
like to discuss safeguarding the chalice.”

Newcastle smiled at her.  “I must confess myself fascinated
that the Home Office utilizes female agents.  How very progressive of them. 
And how very commendable of you, Miss Gans, to place yourself in danger for the
sake of the country.”

“Thank you, your grace,” she said.  “I promise we shall do
everything in our power to safeguard your chalice.”

“But it is already safe, my dear,” said Newcastle.  “No one
would dare try to steal it from me.  And I assure you it is quite well hidden.”

“Be that as it may, Newcastle,” said Arthur, “the two who
may attempt to take it aren’t your ordinary thieves.  They went to great
lengths to procure a chest that held the secret to this mystery.  If they
succeeded in Kent, where in addition to Miss Gans, we had my brothers and the
Marquess of Riverton to defend against it, I promise they can achieve their
goals here, as well – regardless of your protective measures.”

Newcastle looked less than convinced.   “The chalice has not
left the castle in centuries.  It is too valuable to simply give to you.  No offense,
my dear Miss Gans.”

“I assure you that we are well able to safeguard your
treasure,” said Vanessa.  “We have also been charged with protecting the Larsen
broadsword.  My superiors would never have entrusted me with this if they
didn’t think I would succeed.”

“You have the Larsen?” asked Newcastle, showing real
interest.  “How extraordinary.  I didn’t think it ever left Norwich Castle.”

“It generally doesn’t,” said Vanessa.  “But the governor let
us take it because he trusted us to do our mission.”

“How much did Sir John charge you?” asked Newcastle.  “The
fellow’s greed is well known.”

“We were finally able to make him see reason,” said Vanessa.

“I’m sure you could persuade a man to do a great many
things,” said Newcastle, as his gaze lowered to her breasts, which were nicely
framed in her new gown.

Arthur recognized Newcastle’s look of appreciation, because
it was one he’d been trying to keep off his own face ever since seeing her in
the gown.  Vanessa had been quite attractive in her old clothes.  But to see
her dressed so fashionably was temptation for any man.  And he knew what kind
of a challenge it would present to Newcastle.  He just had to make sure the
duke never got the chance to make a move.

“I see you’re on your way out to ride,” said Arthur.  “We
don’t wish to delay you.  If you can give us the chalice, we’ll be on our way.”

Newcastle half smiled at the obvious ploy.  “But you haven’t
convinced me the cup will be safer with you than me.  Plus, I would dearly love
to see the Larsen broadsword.”  He turned to Vanessa.  “Have you handled it my
dear?  There is nothing I like more than a female who knows her way around a
blade.” 

His accompanying leer turned Vanessa’s stomach, but she had
to rein in her temper if she hoped to succeed.  It was only by squeezing
Arthur’s arm that she kept him from lunging at Newcastle.  “Your grace, if I
might suggest, perhaps we can bring the Larsen here for you to examine.  Very
few can boast of having the Larsen in their homes.  Then, if you could find it
in yourself to let us take the chalice, I’m sure the Home Office would be most
gratified.”

“An intriguing offer from the lovely Crown agent.   Why
don’t you accompany me on my ride while Kellington fetches the Larsen?  Then
when you and I return, we can discuss matters further.  Perhaps you would even
consider placing the Larsen in my safekeeping until the danger has passed.”

“Unfortunately, your grace,” said Vanessa after squeezing
Arthur’s arm of granite once again, “my superiors would not look kindly on my
failing in this mission, nor would they approve of anyone’s interference in
such matters.”

“Leave the Home Office to me, my dear.  I can handle them
easily.  Join me on the ride then we’ll speak of this when Kellington returns with
your things.”

“My things?” she asked.

“Surely you cannot remain at a common inn while in
possession of a treasure like the Larsen.  If you ever hope to persuade me to
entrust you with the chalice, you must demonstrate the proper precautions. 
Kellington, off with you now and bring back Vanessa’s things.”

“It’s Miss Gans,” said Arthur, “and I cannot allow any lady
under my protection to be out of my sight.”

Newcastle raised a brow.  “Under your protection, eh?  I
thought your tastes ran to opera dancers and your brothers’ cast-offs.  But
surely you can let her out of your sight long enough to permit a ride.”

His
double entendre
was clear enough.  Vanessa had to
dig her fingernails into Arthur’s hand to get him to look her way.  When he
finally did, she could see how furious he was.  No one had ever shown that much
protectiveness toward her before.  It warmed her heart.  And it was a huge pain
in the arse because she needed to get the chalice.  She turned to Newcastle and
said, “I have no riding habit, your grace.  So, I shall return with Lord Arthur
to the inn to collect the sword.”

“You must also stay the night, Miss Gans.  Kellington, too,
if he insists.  We can discuss this over dinner, then we shall see if you have
the means to persuade me to change my mind.  I look forward to it immensely.” 

*                    *                    *

Three hours later, Vanessa was situated in a guest room. 
Having politely refused the services of a maid, she was unpacking one of the
new gowns from the valise Arthur had bought from the Drapers at an extravagant
price.  But as much as she hated being indebted to the man – especially since
she had no real chance of repaying him unless she herself sold the Larsen
broadsword – she had to admit she would have been at a real disadvantage in
bargaining with Newcastle had she been dressed in her old gown.  There was a soft
knock at the door.  Before she could ask who it was, Arthur entered.

“I did not invite you in,” she said.

“But you were about to,” he said as he prowled about the
room.  “I still don’t like the thought of you sleeping under Newcastle’s roof.”

“But there is no good alternative.  Were we to go back to
the inn, he would likely drag this out for days or refuse to give us the
chalice altogether.  Neither is acceptable.  We must be ready to be underway as
soon as Professor Dumbarton sends us the next piece of the puzzle.  And I am
sure that will be soon.”