Reckless in Pink (8 page)

In the meantime she’d see what they wanted to do with the house that she owned.

“We should clean the place out,” Val said. “Get rid of the seditious bastards.” He glanced at Claudia and mouthed “sorry,” presumably for using the curse word.

She shrugged and smiled. She’d heard worse words, and she had asked to be involved in this business. Forced her presence on them. She could hardly blame them for speaking freely.

“Then what?” she asked.

“Then in the fullness of time, you may sell it and add to your portion,” Val continued. “You said you could not live in it.”

She nodded. “I want to think about it. It might be more profitable to rent it out.”

“As long as you ensure the tenants are loyalists,” Marcus shook his lace ruffles free of his wide coat cuffs and picked up one of the papers. “You know where we obtained many of these?”

She nodded again.

Marcus glanced up at Dominic. “You?”

Dominic shook his head. “Tell me.”

Even if he did know, that was a smart move. He might learn more. He probably thought they got them from the authorities, but if they had, it was by another’s hand.

“Julius,” she said.

Her father nodded. “Indeed. My wife’s older brother is the Duke of Kirkburton. His son and heir, Julius, Lord Winterton, is particularly interested in the incursions of the Jacobites into London. You know of our family’s long rivalry with the Dankworths I presume?” He never took his attention from Dominic’s face the whole time he was speaking.

Claudia could only imagine how Dominic was feeling now, with the attention of her father and his three sons fixed on him. They were a formidable bunch. But then, Dominic was a formidable man.

Her father continued, “Our families have been at odds for some time, and now it comes down to the political divide between Jacobite and loyalist. I am not a foolish man, and I would not be speaking to you so frankly if I weren’t sure you were on our side. I have friends in Whitehall.”

“General Court,” Dominic said with a twisted smile.

Lord Strenshall inclined his head. “As you say.”

Dominic continued, “Then you should know that I am the only heir to my father’s title now. I intend to take my responsibilities seriously. I am a Whig by persuasion and a loyalist by inclination. I have never met the Stuarts—formally—but I have seen them, and I know what they want. I cannot see their aims being good for the country as it is now. Besides which, the current monarch rules at our wish. The will of the people.”

“You’re getting close to republicanism there.” Darius pressed the side of his thumbnail to his bottom lip.

“Do you object?” Dominic asked quietly, but menace growled low in his tones.

“Not in the least. A man is entitled to his opinions, but he doesn’t necessarily have the right to impose it on others.”

“Agreed.”

What, had she set her sights on a republican? What did that mean? What did she want from him? Showing no sign of her agitation, Claudia forced her attention back to the present. At the moment she wanted to help decide what would happen with her house.

“I’d hardly say the Pretenders have republicanism at heart,” she said, reminding them what they were here for. Increasingly she was getting the feeling that they wanted more than they said. They were interviewing Dominic, dammit. Yet again, matters were spiraling out of her control. She hated that, almost more than she hated anything else.

“They do not.” Dominic shifted position and his hand grazed the side of her neck.

The touch hardly there, shivers went through Claudia. He hadn’t done that by accident.

Her oldest brother cleared his throat, stood, and flicked his coat skirts. Habitually, he played with his clothes when he wanted to distract attention from something else. He’d seen that touch and detected her reaction to it.

“I do not want that house disturbed for the time being,” Dominic said.

Darius, who had been staring at his fingernails as if detecting a flaw there, looked up. “The devil you say. Why not?”

“Because I want to observe what goes on there.” Dominic paused before he spoke again. “I should not be telling you this, you understand?”

The men in the room grunted or nodded their assent, because they must have known he would say nothing if they did.

“The government has had enough. The prime minister wants Stuart arrested and brought to trial.”

Darius and Val hissed through their teeth, Marcus muttered a word that he should not have used in mixed company.

Her father merely nodded. “I expected as much. Newcastle does not have the subtlety of mind of his brother.”

The late Henry Pelham-Holles had died two years ago, much to the general lamentation of the Whigs. Yet another reason for striking now, if the Jacobites were attending, while politics was in a state of flux. Where the Duke of Newcastle was intelligent, his brother Henry had been brilliant. Now Henry had gone, everything worked a little less well.

“I believe you’re right.” Dominic’s hand tightened on the top rail of Claudia’s chair. “I came today to inform you of the government’s intention.”

Marcus laughed roughly. “You always meant to tell us, did you not?”

“I considered it,” Dominic said. “May I be frank?”

The men either nodded or agreed verbally.

“I don’t think a public trial for Stuart is the best course. I still think the Cause is better dying a slow death.”

“I agree,” her father said without hesitation.

“You want him in my house?” she demanded. “Is that it?”

“I want him where I can find him,” Dominic said steadily, but this time he addressed her. Their eyes met. His crinkled very slightly at the corners in the beginning of a smile that did not reach his lips. “I want to know what he is doing in London and who his associates are.”

“We know that,” Darius growled. He kicked away from the wall, heedless of the scuffmark he made on the paneling.

Their mother would not appreciate the extra work he’d made for the servants, and she would no doubt speak to him later about it. Claudia looked forward to it. The men got away with far too much in this house.

“I say we take him and send him back to France,” Darius said.

“Italy,” his twin corrected him.

“I care not, as long as he’s out of this country.”

“To plot again?” Dominic looked away from Claudia and addressed her brother. “To send messages to his partners in crime in London?”

Val sighed. “He’s right. The more we know, the better we can deal with the situation.”

Still tracing a line on the desk with his forefinger, Marcus lifted his head. “What concerns me is the coincidence. How did Claudia come into possession of one of the most notorious houses of sedition in the city? In the country, for that matter?”

“Oh, I think we know the answer to that,” her father said steadily. The chair creaked as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the wood. “It screams ‘Dankworth’ from every pore.”

Jacobites lived by schemes and plots. Dominic studied the occupants of the room. As enemies, the Emperors would prove formidable, if this were any sample of what he had to deal with. But if he had to, he’d take them on.

Ironic that of all people, he was dealing with spies and conspiracies. A lie had chased him abroad, and it remained with him still. One day he’d speak to his parents about the deception they perpetuated that sent him into the army. Then his life could change for good.

However, at the moment, they were in agreement. At least they understood the sense of his plan.

How could anyone think that holding a public trial would help anyone except the Stuarts? It would end nothing, just give the deluded fools who considered they had the right to claim the throne more fodder to stir up unrest.

When General Court had outlined his plans, he’d known he wouldn’t be obeying his erstwhile superior to the letter. He would watch Stuart, but he would have no part in his capture.

Aware of every movement he made, he lifted his hand from Claudia’s chair, brushing her silky hair as he walked away. He could not make his preference too obvious, could allow no weaknesses to show. Not yet, or the men here would take advantage.

“What you do with the Dankworths is your affair,” he said. “It is none of mine, unless they are directly involved in this business. What makes you think they are involved in the house in Hart Street?”

“Instinct,” Lord Strenshall said.

In this confined space, the Shaws could be formidable. So could he. Strenshall was a formidable patriarch, and with his sons around him, he appeared like nothing so much as one of the leaders of a rookery gang. Except the Shaws had even more power, and the ears of the most influential people in the land.

Although a viscount and the heir to an earl, Dominic had fewer than they did. He had spent most of his adult life abroad serving with the army. Although he’d met men from these families, he’d had no opportunity to form connections such as they had done. They would prove useful allies.

“However, I may be able to help,” he said.

“In what way?” Strenshall asked. The lines around his mouth tightened.

“By letting you know what I see or hear,” he said easily.

Was it his imagination or had the atmosphere in the room snapped taut? No, he had staked his life on sensing such subtleties before. He was not wrong. They knew something they were not telling him. A secret that could help him. “In return, I want your complete confidence.”

Darius Shaw laughed, a sharp bark of laughter that echoed off the walls. “What makes you insist on that?”

“It isn’t as if you’re family,” Valentinian put in.

Dominic glanced down at Claudia. “I could be,” he said. The notion shot through him in an instant. “Shall we make a match of it, Lady Claudia? What do you say?”

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She closed her mouth with a snap before getting to her feet in a swirl of silk. “I will not be spoken to in such a way! I may have—” She flushed. “That is, I wish to choose my husband carefully. Not take a man because of convenience!”

“You are four-and-twenty,” her father said mildly. “We have been extremely lenient with you and your sisters, but perhaps it is time we thought of betrothals. However”—he turned his hard gaze to Dominic—“my daughter has the right of it. Her marriage will not be the result of subterfuge or a cold arrangement.”

“She may wish to jilt me at the end of the season,” Dominic drawled, meeting his lordship’s gaze. “I would not object if she discovered we did not suit. However, as her betrothed husband, I would have a right to examine her properties, would I not?”

They could think that was the reason for his seemingly sudden proposal, but he wanted more. He wanted Claudia. Not necessarily for life, but he wanted to discover what fascinated him, why she drew him with such certainty. If he entered a room, he knew she was there, even if he couldn’t see her. When he’d entered this house this morning and when he’d entered the other. Truthfully, he hadn’t been sure it was she who’d entered the Hart Street house. Instinct had driven him, and he hadn’t needed to see her face or that wayward golden curl to know he was right. He’d felt her. “Lady Claudia is a lovely, intelligent woman of good family. My parents wish me to marry soon. I have seen nobody who attracts me as much as she does.” He met her fulminating glare and smiled. “I do mean that.”

“That’s preposterous!” Claudia said. “I will not stay.”

He had to admire her magnificence as she stormed from the room, her skirts swishing as if to emphasize her fury. She didn’t even slam the door behind her.

With her gone, he could speak more frankly. “Sir, you need someone to watch her. I believe she could be in danger because of…events she witnessed.”

If he’d recognized her so easily last night, someone else might well have. That house held any number of dangerous men. He was infuriated that she had blindly walked into it, but he didn’t blame her brothers for the lapse in care. At least not entirely, although he’d have probably put a sturdy footman with her. She was willful, even wild, and her reputation in society or so he’d learned, was a woman on the edge of disgracing herself.

She needed better care. She needed him.

Strenshall put his head in his hands, but with a deep breath, lifted it again. “I know it, but she is resourceful and unafraid.”

Marcus sighed. “A lethal combination. Her twin has no such urge. I have spoken to her, and so has our father.”

Dominic would wager his best diamond neckcloth pin that they’d exacerbated the problem. Claudia was restless and bored, any fool could see that. Except her family could not. They merely saw a willful child.

“Even now I worry where she’s gone,” Strenshall said. “One day…”

Val moved first, dragging a gold pocket-watch from his waistcoat and flipping open the lid. “I have to go, I’m afraid. I have an appointment.”

His twin tilted a brow. “With a lady, no doubt.”

“At this time of day?” Val laughed. “I doubt any lady I’m so intimately acquainted with is even conscious at this time of day. No, a meeting in a coffeehouse, and then to White’s. I’m meeting our redoubtable cousin Max.” He nodded to Dominic. “The Marquis of Devereux. Maximilian.”

“I am aware of the connection. A large family with such unusual names tends to stand out,” Dominic said. Not to mention that Devereux, despite his title, was one of the most powerful men in the City. In fact, that was why the Emperors of London were so dangerous. They extended into most arenas of power, and they worked together. The combination could be lethal to their enemies.

Unfortunately, their enemies had similar influence, although in slightly different circles. That made for an uncomfortable situation in the country. One day they might recall the initial reason for their dispute—argument over a piece of land didn’t sound right to Dominic— and then they might combine. He repressed his shudder.

“If we are of the same mind, I have no objection to sharing my thoughts and information with you. As long as you do the same.” Dominic lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I know you’re hiding something. I caught those looks. I have other matters to pursue, and no doubt you will want to consult other parties before confiding in me.”