Shall We Dance? (19 page)

“I know.” He got to his feet, holding out a hand to Georgiana. “Aunt Rowena, if you will excuse us? I believe Georgiana would like to visit her friend Miss Fredericks, who is in residence with the queen.”

“Unless she's dead,” Aunt Rowena said, picking up the Tarot cards and holding them out to Georgiana. “Shall we look here?”

“Thank you, Aunt Rowena, but no,” Nate said, bending to kiss his aunt's cheek. “We really must be off.”

He practically had to run to keep up with Georgiana as she hurried from the house out to his curricle, and they set off on the ride to Hammersmith.

“You do know it's only Aunt Rowena, don't you?” he asked once they were away from the worst crush of
traffic. “Dotty Aunt Rowena? Rooms to let in her attic and all of that?”

“I know, I know. But if you're right about the Earl of Brentwood being out to help the Tories destroy the queen, and since your aunt Rowena was right about the queen being in danger, as having the Earl of Brentwood turning Amelia's head to get to the queen certainly could be construed as danger, since you say he's such a secretive and dangerous man, and you think you are right about that, although I'm hoping you're not because Amelia seems quite taken with the earl, then if one thing is true, the next thing could also be true.”

She turned on the seat, her eyes wide. “Couldn't it?”

Nate blinked. “Um…could you say all of that again? No, no, wait, don't, as my eyes are already crossing and somebody has to tool this team. We'll just go visit Miss Fredericks. That seems safest. Although we'll be hours early for dinner, you know. We're neither of us dressed for it, either. Queens probably get really starchy about that sort of thing.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Nate, just hurry.”

 

P
ERRY FOUND
A
MELIA
in the gardens, exactly as she said she would be. He could barely remember tooling his bays out of Mayfair, or tossing the reins to his tiger when he at last reached Hammersmith.

“Amelia!” he called out, running to her as she sat on a stone bench overlooking the water, dropping to one knee without a thought to his new buckskins. “What is it? Are you all right? You're not hurt? No one's tried to hurt you?”

As he spoke, he ran his hands down her arms, as if to check for injuries. “I came as fast as I could when I read your note. What happened? I have to tell you, I could only decipher every third word you wrote. God, I don't think I've ever been so frightened in my life.”

She looked at him as if only just noticing his presence. “Oh, Perry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm…I'm fine.”

He moved to sit beside her, take her hands in his. “No, pet, you're not. That would be obvious to a blind man. You've been crying. Is it the queen?” As he asked the question he hoped that she wouldn't know that he could not care a whit about the queen. His entire concern, his complete fear, had all been for Amelia. If he hadn't realized how important she'd become to him before her note had arrived, he damn well knew it now. It was unsettling. It was shocking. It was wonderful. “Amelia, please, be brave. Talk to me. Is it the queen?”

She bit her lips together, shook her head.

He longed to kiss away the dried traces of tears on her cheeks. “Sweetings, tell me what's wrong.”

And still she wouldn't look at him. “It…it's Lucy. She's dead.”

Perry sat back in sudden shock. He had been half expecting to hear that Jarrett Rolin had made his appearance and done something that could only end in Perry seeking him out and killing him. He'd then begun to think that the queen had finally fallen victim to the ill health she proclaimed at every opportunity. But Lucy?

“Your dog? What happened? She seemed fine earlier. Was there some accident? She ran into the road?”

Amelia shook her head. “Oh, look at me, I'm crying again. You must think I'm silly. Lucy was just a dog.”

“She was your dog, Amelia,” he said, drawing her into his arms as fresh sobs racked her body, and holding her while she wept.

Once the worst of her tears had subsided, he handed her a handkerchief, which she accepted, blowing her nose and wiping at her eyes. “Thank you. I brought Lucy here with me from Italy, you know. Poor old thing. If I had left her there…”

He pressed the tip of his index finger against her lips. “You can't think that way, pet. Lucy would have been devastated to have been left behind. Now, tell me what happened.”

Amelia took a steadying breath and nodded. “We were having our tea, Her Majesty and I. It's really more of a formality, I suppose, as the queen is happiest with her candies and a glass of port at this time of day.”

“I think I just lost my appetite. But go on, I'm sorry to have interrupted.”

She attempted a smile. “Her Majesty has a very varied taste. I drink tea and eat the occasional cake, although the offerings since we arrived here in Hammersmith have not been such that I am very tempted, I'm afraid. Indeed, we seem to send more back to the kitchens than either of us eats. It's rather embarrassing, actually.” She closed her eyes. “So, as I was not at all hungry, I…I fed one of the cakes to Lucy.”

Perry felt his jaw tighten, his every muscle tense. “And she died?”

Amelia nodded her head fiercely. “She gulped it down all in one bite and was begging for another when suddenly she…oh, Perry, her eyes went all wide, and she yelped. And then she just lay down. Fell down.”

“Christ on a crutch,” Perry said. “I know they want her disgraced, but to do this? No. No, that makes no sense.”

“What are you talking about, Perry? Are you thinking the king ordered Her Majesty poisoned? Because I thought so myself at first, as I dashed off my note to you. But then, when I'd had a moment to think, I realized that the populace would feel sure they could lay the death at the king's door. There'd be riots.”

“Riots would be the least of his problems. No, the king couldn't have ordered it. And Liverpool is convinced this ridiculous trial will serve his purposes. But I agree, believing the death deliberate would be a reasonable first thought. Amelia, are you certain Lucy wasn't already sick? By the look of her muzzle, she was far beyond a puppy. No, don't bother to answer. We both saw her at play, and she was fine. Where is the body?”

“I don't know. I wrapped her in a sheet and had Gerado take her away. Her Majesty was very upset, you understand. I'm afraid I had to let Rosetta mix her some laudanum. There will be no dinner party.”

“Hang the dinner party.”

“Oh, but she was so looking forward to it.”

“I'm sure something can be arranged. Amelia, we have other problems.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I know. It's just easier for me to worry about Her Majesty's happiness than it is for me to think someone may have just tried to kill her. And she's bound to think of it, sooner or later, and then there will be no containing her fear.”

“Amelia! Amelia, are you all right?”

Perry and Amelia turned on the bench to see Miss Georgiana Penrose and Sir Nathaniel running hand in hand across the scythed lawn.

“My goodness. How could they know about Lucy?” Amelia asked.

“I imagine a footman told them,” Perry said, as it seemed a logical answer. And would have been, if Sir Nathaniel wasn't looking at him as if he expected to see a dagger in his hand, ready to plunge it into Amelia's back. What maggot had the young looby gotten into his head?

“Miss Fredericks, My Lord,” Sir Nathaniel said, all but skidding to a halt in front of the bench as Perry stood to make his own bow. “How delightful to see you again, My Lord. May I have a word?”

“You may have any number of them, my good man, if they'll explain your agitated appearance,” Perry said coolly. “Miss Penrose, if you would be so kind as to keep Miss Fredericks company, I believe Sir Nathaniel and I will take a stroll along the hillside.”

“Goodness, Georgiana, you look so fierce. Is something wrong?” Amelia asked Georgiana as her friend sat down beside her, rather militantly, as if she'd just been told to stand guard and would lay down her life in the effort if necessary. “I don't understand…”

 

P
ERRY WALKED ALONG
in silence, at last realizing that in his haste to shed himself of Portman Square to get to Amelia he'd totally forgotten one of his affectations, his cane. The woman had completely undone him, and he couldn't help but smile at his own unraveling. How very extraordinary to care so much for another person.

“Her dog is dead. One of the servants told us when we arrived. Murdered, the man said, when he wasn't spouting off in his own language,” Sir Nathaniel said once they'd passed out of easy earshot of the ladies. “You want to tell me about that, My Lord?”

Perry stopped, turned, looked at his companion. “I know that's what you asked, boy, but something in your tone tells me you'd rather be asking if I was ready to make a clean breast of things, and admit to having poisoned Lucy.”

Sir Nathaniel frowned. “Lucy? E-gods, man, is there no limit to your dirty dealings? You killed one of the maids, too? I thought it was just the dog. No wonder that Italian was wailing like that.”

Perry fought down the urge to rub at his forehead, even as he silently asked himself,
Do I really have time for this intense young fool?
“The dog, Sir Nathaniel. The dog's name was Lucy.”

“Oh.” Sir Nathaniel looked abashed, but only for a moment. “And you poisoned her?”

“Yes, of course,” Perry said, continuing on along the hillside. “I thought I'd begin small, with the dog, and then work my way up to the queen. It's patently obvious.”

“Well, no need to cut up stiff about it,” Sir Nathaniel said. “It's not like Georgie and I haven't figured out you're here on orders from Sir Willard. Your uncle, you know. He used to be head of the Admiralty and I know that because I worked there during the war, doing my bit. Staunch Tory, your uncle, and you his only heir.”

Now Perry halted again, and looked back to where Amelia and Miss Penrose had their heads close together in conversation. “Damn you, you idiot! Is that what Miss Penrose is saying to Amelia? That I'm some sort of Tory spy, out to discredit the queen?”

Sir Nathaniel backed up two paces. Stronger men, when faced with Perry's icy ire, would have already been halfway back to their curricles, plans for a restoring trip to the country half-formed in their minds. “You…your uncle didn't send you here to spy on the queen?”

Perry hesitated, only a moment, but that moment was long enough. Long enough for Sir Nathaniel to notice the hesitation.

“May I call you Nate?” Perry asked, caught between wanting to rush to Amelia and drag her away from Miss Penrose and knowing that the time had come for some honest speech with Sir Nathaniel before bad went to worse. If he tried to approach Amelia right now, the young fool would probably tackle him. “My friends call me Perry.”

Nate's forehead went rather red. “I'm certain that I am honored, My Lord. We don't exactly rub elbows in the same set. You being older and all.”

“True. I've given up tipping the Charlies and jumping my horse over dinner tables these past years, to become a boring old stickler. But I do remember my grass time, as I'm not quite that ancient.”

“Oh, stap me, I keep putting my foot in it, don't I? But you haven't answered me, My Lord—Perry. Georgie and I—Miss Penrose, that is—we'd already figured out you're Sir Willard's kin, and I for one didn't swallow that clunker of you showing up here to win a wager. I'd do that. My friends would do that. But you wouldn't do that. Miss Fredericks told Georgie all about it, you understand. So, even though I was only jostling Aunt Rowena along, saying I'd find a way to protect the queen, all at once it began to look as if she was right, after all. But I still didn't believe that business with the bird or the cards, except that Georgie got all frazzled and looked as if she was about to have a come-apart, and we rushed here, and the dog was dead, and you were here and—well, it's all of a piece.”

Perry chanced another look over his shoulder. Amelia and her friend still had their heads together. “I'm sure it is, to you. Who, pray tell, is Aunt Rowena?”

“My aunt on my mother's side,” Nate said, and the blush was back. “She got it into her head that the queen is in danger. She gets a lot of things into her head, but this time m'mother asked me to go see the queen and then tell my aunt that everything was fine and I'd protect Her Majesty. Imagine that! Me, protecting a queen. But Aunt Rowena swallowed all that gammon whole, and then I met Georgie and we're rubbing along well
enough that now I'm here all the time and Aunt Rowena is over the moon.”

“Your aunt and the queen are acquainted?”

“I can't say for certain on that. But she likes her, thinks she's being cruelly used. Even m'father says so, and he's a dashed Tory. Except that my sire so forgot himself that he said some would think it would be easier all round if someone just killed the queen, and Aunt Rowena heard him and pitched several fits until I agreed to help. So when we started thinking—Georgie and me—about you and Sir Willard, Aunt Rowena's notions seemed almost sane. And when she said she saw death here today? Well, Georgie all but grabbed me by the neck and dragged me here to check on Miss Fredericks. Clear now?”

“If there are fuzzy areas, I believe I am content to allow them to remain undisturbed. And remember, the dog may have been poisoned or may have simply died. We cannot be certain. We can only be vigilant. Now tell me, Nate, is Miss Penrose informing Miss Fredericks now of my familial connection to the Tory cause?”

Nate peeked over his shoulder. “I suppose so. She might be. Georgie was all hot to tell her not to trust you. But if you're not in league with Sir Willard and his cronies, that's all right, isn't it?”