The Emperor's Conspiracy (4 page)

“
I
need a favor.” Edward did not sit down, choosing to remain standing in the office. It was the only one occupied on the whole floor, the rest of the occupants long since gone home to dinner and bed, but he kept his voice low. Sound had a way of echoing in the empty building.

“I don’t think you’ve ever asked me for a favor before. I’m intrigued.” Dervish put the paper he had been reading aside and watched him with sharp eyes.

“You go to balls and such, don’t you? Know a few people?”

“If you’re asking if I’m halfway sociable, then yes. And you should attend a few yourself. It’s amazing what you pick up at the things. Especially when it’s possible our quarry is present at some of them.”

Edward said nothing. The idea of prowling through the crowds eavesdropping had never appealed to him.

He preferred the direct approach.

“Would you like to tell me what this favor is?” Dervish leaned back in his chair.

“Have you heard of a Miss Raven?” Dervish was the only person he knew who he could ask this question of without being thought interested in the woman. Or rather, interested in a sense other than he was.

“Yes, I have. I know her, in fact.”

“Oh?” Edward forced himself to relax.

“Charlotte Raven. Ward of Lady Howe. Quite a catch, actually, given Lady Howe has a sizable fortune and seems disinclined to remarry, and Charlotte Raven is her only family.”

Edward thought about that. At least she was respectable, although he’d thought there was something about her—a cheekiness, a liveliness that reminded him of the streets. “Who are her parents?”

Dervish shook his head. “I don’t know. I always assumed some distant relatives of Lady Howe. What is your interest in her, Durnham?”

Edward trusted Dervish, but he would not discuss his sister’s problems until he learned more about them. “My sister is staying with her, and I wished to know about her without drawing attention to the fact.”

“Your sister?” Dervish’s gaze sharpened. “I thought she and her husband were having a house party this weekend.”

“You know more than I do, then.” Edward looked down at his hands, then up again. Throw caution to the winds. “My sister has run away from her husband, it seems. Not that I’m at
all surprised. He’s a bastard and my stepfather should never have accepted his suit.”

“But why is she staying with Miss Raven and not you?”

Edward laughed. “Apparently I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Dervish gave him a strange look. “Told her you told her so, did you?”

Edward was about to give an indignant denial, and stopped, mouth half open like a fool. Was he really such a terrible old man? Good grief, he was only thirty years old.

“Spot on, I see.” Dervish shook his head. “Any details you can share with me? On why she ran?”

Edward’s reaction was to say no, but something made him stop. “She was crying when she told me, making no sense. Said Holliday had planned to sell their children to Lord Frethers.” Edward was halfway into a confused shrug when he noted Dervish’s face.

It had gone curiously blank, and it was white and slick, like he had a fever.

“You know what she meant, don’t you?” He spoke slowly.

Dervish gave a shuddering sigh, and then forced himself to look disinterested. “I’ve heard Frethers likes little boys, yes.”

“My God. You mean Frethers … ?” A deep, sinking horror pulled at him. He’d thought Holliday a cad, but this was beyond— He wiped a hand across his forehead. And there he’d been, wittering on to Em about how her wastrel husband had run through her money and tried to ask him for more.

That had to be the last thing she cared about.

He suddenly saw the scene with Miss Raven in a different
light. Her eyes had been knowing. Sharp. She understood the circumstances far better than he.

And there was a mystery on its own. What young society miss would have such information and be so cool and collected, so self-possessed?

“How old is Charlotte Raven,” he asked.

“What?” Dervish frowned. “I don’t know. Early twenties, I think. Not a schoolroom miss. She’s had at least three seasons, and came late to her first season as it was.”

But that still did not explain it. Even a young woman with a few seasons under her bonnet would not be so calm.

“I might hire someone to look into her.” Edward realized he’d spoken aloud, and he caught Dervish’s surprise.

“Why?”

“There is something off about her. Looking back on our meeting, she knew the true circumstances of Emma’s troubles. It was in her eyes.” She’d been pitying him, Edward realized. Pitying him, and dismissing him as not bright enough to have caught on. Despite himself, he let out a bark of laughter. He had a strong urge to show her just how bright he could be.

“E
dward has sent a message to say he will be calling later today.” Emma set the card Lady Howe’s butler had handed her next to her breakfast plate and looked at her two hostesses.

Outside, through an open set of doors, the boys played with a ball on the fine lawns, their own breakfast long since
eaten. The sound of their laughter and shouting soothed her. They were happy, for now, and safe. That had been all she had thought of when she’d left her home, and she had achieved it. Thanks to Charlotte Raven.

“I look forward to meeting Lord Durnham,” Lady Howe said, her smile genuine in her strong, beautiful face. “He doesn’t go about much in society, and I haven’t ever been introduced.”

Emma nodded, her chest clutched by the hard, sharp claws of guilt and sadness she always felt when conversation turned to her brother. “He hates Geoffrey so much, hates that I married him so strongly, that he does not go about in case he meets us. Which, of course, he most likely would.”

“He had no say in your marriage?” Charlotte Raven lifted a cup of coffee to her lips, and Emma was struck by how lovely she was. She seemed more beautiful in this setting, as if she deliberately made herself less attractive when she went out. Emma suddenly wondered if it could be true.

“My stepfather accepted Geoffrey’s suit. Edward was only twenty-two at the time. And I was under my majority. But it has always rankled with Edward. He and my stepfather disagreed over it so strongly. They openly hate one another now, and it’s one more thing I destroyed in my determination to marry Geoffrey.” She closed her eyes. “And of course, Edward was right. He was quite, quite right.”

There was silence at the table for a moment, and when Emma opened her eyes, she saw both women looking at her with sympathy.

“What can I say?” She shrugged, trying to keep her voice steady. “I loved him. With all my heart.”

“Then you were right to marry him.” Lady Howe’s words were soft. “Would you be better off if you had denied your love and married someone more suitable, and pined for him?”

Charlotte watched her as well. “And of course, there are the boys.”

Emma glanced out the windows to catch a glimpse of James tossing the ball to Ned. “And look what nearly happened to them, because of their mother’s poor choice in husbands.”

“No.” Charlotte leaned forward at the table, her eyes intense. “I learned long ago to refuse to take the blame for things I had nothing to do with. You gave your husband your love, and three beautiful boys, and if that was not enough for him, if he chose to despoil what he had, then the blame rests on him, not you. You took the action you needed to take to safeguard them, despite the risks to your reputation, and you have succeeded.”

“The thing …” Emma cleared her throat. “The thing that worries me, though, is that I would not have even known the danger they were in, I would not have been able to run away, were it not for you, Miss Raven.”

“Ah, but sometimes”—Charlotte Raven slid a tender look at Lady Howe—“sometimes, fate steps in and provides you with a guardian angel. I am happy to have been yours this time. Someday, no doubt, you will be someone else’s.” She stood, and Emma noticed for the first time she was in a riding
habit. “I will be off now. I’m sure Kit is cursing my lateness.”

After she left the room, Emma continued to stare after her, but a movement by Lady Howe finally ripped her gaze back to her hostess.

“She is magnetic, isn’t she?” Lady Howe smiled the proud smile of a parent.

“She is the most interesting woman I have ever met.”

Lady Howe nodded. “And if you were to say that to her, she would look at you as if you had lost your reason. But I warn you, she has never followed a conventional path. Since she came to live with me at the age of twelve, she has continued to keep her friends from the streets. She refused to allow her good fortune to ruin her ties with the people who had helped her and kept her safe as a child, and I could not forbid it, because without them, she would never have been alive to come to me.”

“How does she manage that? Without a scandal?” Emma tried to think if she had ever heard any whispers about Charlotte Raven, but could not. Miss Raven kept to the corners at balls, never dancing, underplaying her looks. Trying to live safely in two worlds.

“For a start, a lot of her old friends work in my house, now, and at my country estate.” Lady Howe stirred sugar into her tea. “You would have thought it would cause trouble. Her the lady, they the servants, but it hasn’t. When she was younger, she felt it more keenly, but she never returned to the streets because she always knew she could be of more help to her friends as a lady than as a pauper.”

“That is not entirely true,” Emma said. “I saw the way she looks at you. She would not have wanted to leave you.”

Lady Howe hesitated, then nodded. “You are right. But there were times … I thought I would lose her. One of her old sweeper friends in particular has made his fortune. Those of their comrades from the early days Charlotte has not employed, Luke Bracken has taken in. And ever since he was able, he’s tried over and over to persuade her to leave me and go into his care.”

“But she has not.”

Lady Howe shook her head. “I’ve fought for her like a lioness fights for her cub. I’ve never met Luke Bracken, but we’ve battled a war against each other, he and I.”

“And you were the winner.” Emma leaned back and smiled.

“Who really wins a war?” Lady Howe shrugged. “I’ve kept Charlotte, but Luke Bracken continues to insinuate himself in her life. And I don’t think I will ever be rid of him.”

“And what is wrong with Luke Bracken?” Emma was beyond curious now.

Lady Howe gave a tired, tight smile. “Luke Bracken is a London crime boss.”

Emma gaped.

“At least I don’t fear for Charlotte’s safety when she’s out late at night.” Lady Howe rubbed delicately at her temple. “No rogue in the whole of the West End would dare lay a finger on her.”

5

“D
o you take sugar in your tea, Lord Durnham?”

Catherine’s gentle tone had the effect of forcing Lord Durnham to quit scowling at the very tasteful Turkish carpet and behave with some semblance of civility.

Charlotte, so used to the practiced, slick manners of the ton, which meant nothing and usually hid venom and ill will, was delighted by him. Of course, this was precisely the type of man she would never meet at balls. He would attend them only if forced.

Perhaps this was her sign to stop going about in polite society.

“Charlotte?” Catherine was looking at her, eyebrows raised, a cup of tea in her hands.

“Sorry.” Charlotte smiled and took it. “Off elsewhere, I’m afraid.”

“Did you enjoy your ride?” Lady Holliday asked her, trying to keep the conversation alive. Her brother certainly didn’t feel compelled to do so.

“I did. We had a lovely run.” She took a sip of tea, relishing the almost unbearably hot tang as she swallowed. “What about you, Lord Durnham? Do you ride?”

He looked at her, at last. A look that seemed vaguely threatening, as if he intended to find out everything about her, and use it against her. Charlotte raised an eyebrow and gave him a serene smile.

He hunted for a place to set his cup, the fine china ridiculously fragile in his hands, and gave a sharp nod. “I do.”

“And you are involved in government?”

He started, and plunked the tea down too sharply on a small table. He turned that direct gaze on her again. “Why do you ask that?”