One Night of Passion (38 page)

Damn Colin’s hide,
she fumed for the hundredth time. Why hadn’t he told her the truth?

In the corner, Kit sat happily ensconced on a stool with a brace of candles glowing at her side. In her lap was a brand-new sketchbook that the housekeeper had managed to find for her. After months without one, she was drawing furiously as if to make up for lost time. She’d never been able to find her other one, and Georgie suspected it had blown overboard.

The door opened and Mrs. Delaney brought in a tray laden with food. Behind her a maid and footman carried in additional provisions, including a full tea service. “I thought you might prefer to eat up here rather than all fancy-like at the table.”

“Thank you,” Georgie said. She didn’t feel the least bit hungry, but imagined everyone else might not be so affected. “Have you taken in a tray for the gentlemen?” she asked, though she had no doubt the efficient housekeeper had seen to them as well.

“No need,” called out Temple from the doorway. “We’ve come to join you.”

Georgie made the introductions for Aunt Estes, who seemed to know everyone but Mr, Pymm. The talk started out inconsequential, but eventually the men fell into a debate as to how to proceed on their search for Mandeville.

“If only you could give me a better description of the man,” Pymm said to Georgie.

She held up her hands. “I’ve done the best I can.

He’s about average height. I think his hair was dark, but I couldn’t be sure, as I only saw him in the vague light on deck and down below.” She sighed. “I’m not very good at describing people—that’s Kit’s expertise, not mine.”

Until now, Kit hadn’t said much, between bites of cheese and a few sips of tea. She had been working frantically at her sketchbook. But now she paused and held up the drawing she’d been working on. “Did he look like this?”

Georgie grinned at her sister’s deft drawing. “Exactly. That’s him. How did you know?”

“When I bumped into him on the ship. I saw his face. I knew it would be important and wanted to get it down on paper, but I lost my sketchbook, I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure I could capture what I remembered.”

Georgie caught up the pad and stared down at it. “Oh, you’ve got the right of it. ‘Tis perfect, Kit.” She held the drawing up for Pymm, Temple, and Lord Sutton. “This is your man, gentlemen. Find him and you’ll have found Mandeville.”

The three men stared at the drawing, but from the blank expressions on their faces, none of them recognized the visage.

That is, until Aunt Estes glanced up from the evening paper. She’d been buried in the gossip column and had turned down Mrs. Delaney’s repast until she’d determined who the “Lady S” mentioned there might be. “Who is this you are looking for?” She adjusted her spectacles and peered at the drawing. “Whatever do you want with Lord Cunningham?”

The room fell silent.

“You know who this is, madame?” Temple asked.

“Of course. That’s Lord Cunningham. Though I daresay, that’s a very flattering rendition. And while I haven’t seen him in ages, I would know him anywhere. Oh my, there was a delicious scandal about his wife about a dozen or so years ago. She was having an affair with their neighbor, and her paramour’s wife shot them fla
grante delicto
and then killed herself in the process of burning down their meeting spot. A hunting lodge or some other thing that bordered the two properties.”

Georgie glanced at Mr. Pymm and he looked at her. “Mandeville,” they both said.

“Oh no, that isn’t right,” Aunt Estes said. She tapped her chin and then smiled. “The family name isn’t Mandeville, but—”

And when she said the name, suddenly all the pieces fell together.

Mr. Pymm nodded to Lord Sutton, who was already out the door calling for another messenger.

“What are they about?” Aunt Estes asked Georgie. “I can’t hear a word they’re saying.”

Georgie leaned toward the lady’s ear. “They are going to go find Lord Cunningham.”

Aunt Estes leaned back in her chair. “They needn’t go to such bother.” She pointed at her paper. “It says right here that he is one of the guests at a dinner honoring Lord Nelson this evening at—”

Pymm was across the room and had the paper in hand before the lady could say another word.

“Lord Botham’s residence. Tonight. A dinner to honor Nelson.” He glanced up from the paper. “He’ll do it tonight. Especially if he’s heard that the
Sybaris
is returned.” He plucked out his pocket watch and frowned. “We haven’t much time. The guests are probably already arriving.”

“I’m going with you,” Georgie told Pymm. “And I’ll brook no arguments.”

Temple started to open his mouth, but Pymm held up his hand. “I wouldn’t suggest it. She has a wicked right hook.”

Temple grinned. “Yes, I believe I remember seeing a demonstration of that.”

Pymm paused for moment. “It says here that the other guests will include Lord Danvers and his betrothed, Lady Diana Fordham. You won’t make a scene if we should run into them, will you?”

“This is for England, sir,” she told him. “Whatever happened between Lord Danvers and myself is of no consequence.”

Kit rolled her gaze skyward, while Temple put his hand over his mouth to cover a suspicious fit of coughing.

“Truly, I don’t care a whit about him,” Georgie declared, though the idea of seeing Colin with his betrothed pained her more than she’d ever admit. “The only thing that matters is that we stop Mandeville.”

“Who’s this Mandeville? And what is he about?” Aunt Estes asked, as the men started grabbing up their coats and hats, and Georgie rushed from the room to catch up her cloak.

Kit rose from her seat, her eyes burning with excitement. “Mandeville is Lord Cunningham, and he means to murder Lord Nelson. Mr. Pymm and Georgie intend to stop him.”

“What? Murder? And your sister is going along with these gentlemen? I say not,” Aunt Estes declared.

Georgie had already donned her cloak and was tying on her hat. “I’m doing this to save England, to save Lord Nelson. And never you fear, I’ll be safe, milady, with these gentlemen.”

“England and Lord Nelson are no concern of mine. ‘Tis your reputation. Whatever are you thinking, going out with these gentlemen unescorted?”

Colin stood in the long receiving line at Lord Botham’s house, Lady Diana on his arm.

He’d only conceded to attend this dinner because Lord Nelson was the honored guest and it seemed the most expedient way to get to see the admiral and warn him as to what was afoot. The moment the
Sybaris
had been spotted, his grandfather had conveyed a request to Lady Botham to include his grandson and betrothed in the party. Since the duke was never naysayed, Colin’s invitation was assured.

Pymm had sent word that they were working on the translation, and would dispatch anything they discovered the moment Lord Sutton managed to break the code.

The cagey agent hadn’t included any information about Georgie.

Colin had spent most of the afternoon arguing with his grandfather over his betrothal, having informed the duke that he had no intention of marrying Lady Diana, that he’d fallen in love with another.

His grandfather wouldn’t hear a word of it, and when Lamden and Lady Diana arrived to accompany them to the dinner for Nelson, Colin had promised his grandfather to at least see this evening through before he made any decisions.

But in truth, Colin was only putting his best face forward to humor his elderly grandfather, and gain this opportunity to have a heart-to-heart with Lady Diana. He’d already decided to inform her of his intentions to cry off the first private moment they got.

However, privacy was in short supply at Lord Botham’s crowded house. The place was a complete crush, and Lord Nelson had yet to arrive.

It was as good a time as any, Colin mused.

“Lady Diana,” he said. “Would you mind if we found someplace a little quieter and had a word in private?”

Her eyes lit up, and Colin felt the weight of guilt pull him under. He could only hope she hadn’t had a change of heart in the ensuing months and wanted him to honor their previous engagement. Telling her the truth, that he loved another, wasn’t going to be easy. No more easy than trying to get back into Georgie’s good graces, he mused.

They worked their way through the crowd and out a side door. After a short trip down the hall, they ducked into a small parlor. Discreetly, Colin glanced back, realized no one was watching them, and closed the door.

When he turned to Lady Diana, she had already set down her reticule and was toying with her fan.

“Lady Diana, I want to say something—”

She held up her delicate lace and ivory fan and said, “Please don’t embarrass us both by renewing your addresses. If you think that I am going to marry you, now or ever, Lord Danvers, I’m afraid you are quite mistaken.”

*   *    *

Georgie, Pymm, Temple, and Lord Sutton abandoned their carriage a few blocks away from Lord Botham’s and started weaving their way through the traffic on foot.

Aunt Estes had nearly thrown herself in front of the door to keep Georgie from leaving unchaperoned, but finally they had convinced the lady of the gravity of the situation and the extenuating circumstances that precluded social niceties.

And though she’d agreed, she claimed that calamity was sure to follow a young lady as headstrong as Georgie.

“And you only met her today?” Temple had the audacity to ask Georgie as they dashed down the front steps to his waiting carriage. “You’ve made quite an impression already.”

“Miss Escott has that way about her,” Pymm added, as Temple’s driver, Elton, snapped the reins and sent the horses bolting forward.

Georgie ignored them both. She was far too excited and impatient to care what anyone thought. They were going to capture Mandeville and save Lord Nelson.

Finally her parents’ deaths would be avenged. And in the process, England’s greatest hero would be saved.

And perhaps . . . she might even see Colin.

Oh bother,
she told herself, as Elton sped the carriage through the streets, careening around one corner, then another. Some spy she made when all she could think about was her faithless lover. And when they got out of Lord Templeton’s carriage into the choked streets, Georgie could think of nothing but of a similar night scene with Colin holding her hand.

As they approached the house, Georgie heard a distant voice calling out her name.

“Georgiana? Is that you, you troublesome chit? Come back here right this minute.”

She glanced back down the street, and there across the way, coming up the sidewalk at a furious pace, were Uncle Phineas and Aunt Verena. Her uncle was waving his walking stick like a maniac possessed, while Aunt Verena went from fluttering her handkerchief to dabbing her eyes with the lacy cloth.

She turned from the frightening thought of a possible reunion with her relations to the trouble Temple was having gaining entrance for them to Lord Botham’s. Apparently any number of the
ton
had been crashing parties that Nelson was rumored to be attending, just for the opportunity to say they had met England’s newest hero, so Botham’s servants had been instructed to be vigilant against the uninvited.

And the majordomo was taking his job very seriously.

“My good man,” Pymm ranted, “ ‘tis a matter of life and death. Do you hear me? Death!”

The man shot Pymm a look of pure dismay and closed the door in their faces.

“This way,” Temple said, dodging back through the crowd outside and down the block. Lord Sutton declared he would wait out front for the authorities and in case Mandeville had yet to arrive.

“Oh, where do you think you are going, miss?” Uncle Phineas called out, from where he was trapped in the middle of the street between two carriages. “You won’t escape your responsibilities to your family, you selfish girl!”

“What is all that about?” Temple asked, glancing over his shoulder as Uncle Phineas railed on and on at the driver to move his confounded conveyance out of their way.

“I haven’t the vaguest notion,” Georgie said. “This night seems to be bringing out all types.”

They came to a garden wall and a locked door, but it was no match for Temple, who pulled a long narrow piece of metal out of his boot and started toying with the lock.

Georgie stared wide-eyed at the man’s skill, for in less than a few seconds the door swung open.

Temple shrugged and they made their way through the garden and slipped into the ballroom. No one noticed their arrival, as all eyes were on the arched doorway beyond, where Nelson was making his entrance.

“At least he’s still alive,” Pymm muttered. “Now to find Mandeville.” He turned to Georgie. “Do you see him?”

She shook her head. “I can’t see a thing over all these people.”

Temple pulled a chair out of an alcove and pushed it next to her. “I don’t care how it looks. Get up on this and give us a good survey of the room.”

Georgie scrambled up and looked around. With all the feathers and hats and bewigged gentlemen, it was hard to tell one person from another, but suddenly, she saw him.

Mandeville.
Otherwise known to the
ton
as Lord Cunningham.

“He’s over there,” she said to Temple. “To the right of Nelson.” She glanced again, and realized the man had two glasses of wine, and that he was heading straight for the admiral. Something about the color of the wine and the way he smiled as he carefully carried the glasses sent a cold shiver through Georgie’s heart. “Oh dear. I believe he means to poison Nelson. Do stop him. Stop him now.”

Temple and Pymm shoved and pushed their way through the crowd. A great commotion followed in their wake, and both Nelson and Mandeville looked up to see what the disturbance coming in their direction was about. In that moment Mandeville spied Georgie on her perch, and his cold smile changed to one of fury. He turned to flee, but it was too late.

Pymm caught the evil man by one arm, while Temple seized the other. The murderous glasses of wine crashed to the floor. They wrestled with Mandeville for a few more seconds before Temple succeeded in knocking him unconscious with a tremendous blow.