Regency Society Collection Part 2. Ann Lethbridge

Wynch-wood could walk down the stairs from the inside first thing in the morning. Voilà.’

      ‘A baby could spot a ladder,’ Snively said scornfully. ‘What about a disguise?’

      ‘I have an idea,’ Robert said. It had been niggling away in his mind all evening. But it was risky. Everyone looked at him expectantly. ‘A decoy.’

      Snively frowned. ‘What sort of decoy?’

      ‘Someone disguised to look like Miss Wynchwood trying to look like someone else,’ Robert said.

      John gave a soft whistle through his teeth. Snively looked thoroughly mystified.

      Swiftly, Robert organised his thoughts. ‘We dress another woman to look like Miss Bracewell in disguise. One of us will escort that woman along the street. The watchers will spot the decoy and give pursuit when she runs off, giving the real Miss Bracewell the opportunity to slip inside the office unseen.’

      ‘It might just work,’ John mused. ‘Lullington will be the hardest to fool.’

      Snively perked up. ‘I can make a bit of a diversion in the street. Make ’em really confused.’

      ‘We will need someone of Miss Bracewell’s height and build,’ John said. ‘Make her look as if she is wearing a disguise, while Miss Bracewell should look ordinary.’

      ‘Puts Miss Bracewell at terrible risk,’ Snively said heavily.

      They all stared at Frederica and her face went bright red. ‘What about the chambermaid?’

      ‘The lass who let me in earlier?’ Robert mused. ‘She’s about your height and build. Do you think you could charm her into helping us, John?’

      John snorted. ‘Along with the promise of a guinea or two.’

      ‘We’ll need a hat with a veil and a heavy cloak,’ Snively added.

      ‘For me?’ Frederica asked.

      ‘No,’ Robert said. ‘You will look like any other woman out shopping. Perhaps a close-brimmed bonnet to hide your face, but that is all. I think this will work.’ For weeks he’d felt as if he’d been marking time, going through the motions of living, except for the interludes with Frederica. Now energy coursed through his veins. ‘John, find the maid. Snively, your diversion will have to be big enough to distract the men waiting in front of the office.’

      ‘Leave it to me.’

      ‘Then we will plan for mid-afternoon when the streets are crowded. I will go there ahead of time to see if I can spot them and their locations. We will meet back here around midday. Are we agreed?’

      Heads nodded.

      ‘Tomorrow, then, gentlemen.’

      Despite her cheerful front, Robert worried that all was not well with Frederica. When her blush had subsided, she’d looked paler than before. Her eyes showed strain.

      He hung back as the room cleared. ‘Are you all right?’

      ‘I’m sorry you got dragged into my troubles.’ Her brave smile pierced his heart. ‘Whatever happens, you must not take any chances. I could not bear it if you were arrested.’

      ‘A duke’s son doesn’t get arrested,’ he said with a smile and a note of confidence he didn’t quite feel. ‘Or at least, not for long.’ He reached out and took her hand. Her fingers were icy, chilled to the bone, despite the warmth of the room. ‘You are freezing.’ He drew her nearer the fire and stirred the coals.

      She shivered again and stretched her fingers against the heat. ‘Robert…’ she smiled up at him ‘…thank you for trying to help me.’

      The words held real gratitude. The look of longing in her eyes as she gazed at him weakened his resolve to leave at once and seek lodgings with John. It seemed with this woman, he had no will. ‘It is no more than any man would do.’ He spoke briskly, matter-of-factly, in case she read his longing to pull her close and kiss away her fears.

      After a moment or two, she turned back to the fire, staring into the flames, her shoulders hunched. Drained of all spirit.

      He dropped to the seat beside her on the sofa. ‘Are you unwell?’

      ‘I’m fine.’ She turned to face him. ‘I just wish I had left yesterday.’

      He put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Don’t you want to know your father’s name? Hear what he has to say?’

      She rested her head on his shoulder. God, it felt so right, her looking to him for comfort and support. His chest ached with the pain of knowing he would never see her again after tomorrow.

      ‘I don’t know.’ She shivered, her teeth chattering until she clenched her jaw.

      He pressed the back of his hand against her cheek, felt the chill of her skin. ‘You are freezing. You need something to warm you from the inside.’

      He rose and rang the bell. A lackey came to the door and Robert told him what he needed. While he waited for the man’s return, he pilfered the counterpane off the bed in the adjoining chamber and tucked it around her shoulders. He knelt before her, chafing her hands. From the rigid expression on her face he guessed that this girl, who he thought of as fearless, was deeply distressed.

      He ran a finger down her cheek. ‘I’m sorry I suspected you of trying to pin the blame on me. I should have known better.’

      She smiled, her lips tinged with blue. ‘Yes. You should have.’

      There was the spirit he sought. The fight. Yet her eyes remained shadowed.

      He brought her hands to his mouth, warmed them with his breath, kissed the fragile bones that wrought such magic with charcoal and paper. ‘Everything will be fine. I promise.’

      She looked away, staring into the fire. Took a deep breath.

      A little colour returned to her cheeks. ‘I will be glad when it is over, that is all.’ She gave him a watery smile.

      The sight made his chest feel overly full as if his heart had grown too large to be contained.

      A knock of the door heralded the arrival of the wine. Robert took the tray to the hearth, filled the small kettle with madeira, spooned in cinnamon and cloves and added a pinch of mace. He heaped in generous spoonfuls of sugar, then hung the pot on the crane above the fire.

      Soon the liquid began to simmer and the room filled with a sweet, heady fragrance as he stirred.

      ‘Now, Miss Bracewell,’ he said, pouring the mixture into a glass, ‘you will oblige me by drinking this. It will warm you. Then we will tuck you up in bed.’

      ‘I don’t feel the slightest bit tired. Will you stay a while? I-I find I don’t want to be alone.’ The soft pleading in her eyes sent hot fire leaping in his blood. Every nerve ending in his body urged him to accept. He fought desire, tempered it with kindness.

      ‘I’ll stay for a while. Until you fall asleep.’

      ‘You may be here all night, then.’ She took the glass from his hand and sniffed at the contents.

      ‘Go ahead. Drink. I promise not to poison you.’

      She laughed then. ‘Silly R-Robert.’

      God. He loved the way she laughed and adored the way she said his name with that tiny hesitation. It saddened him to think he might never hear either sound again.

      She sipped at the mixture and wrinkled her nose.

      ‘Too hot?’ he asked.

      ‘No. I’ve never tasted anything like it before.’

      ‘Drink it to please me.’

      She took another taste and another, sipping delicately, her lips turning the colour of rubies from the wine, her cheeks flushing. ‘I like it.’