grace, I crave your pardon for the intrusion on this special morning. May I beg a five minute audience?”
“Certainly. You do not intrude. I have been rattling about my chambers here with nothing to do but fret away the remaining hours until my wedding. Your call has no doubt saved me from madness.”
Sumner smiled obligingly at this dry quip, but seemed troubled. “Let me come right to the point, your grace. The special assignment you gave me to discover which of your London servants betrayed your location to Mrs. Dubois has uncovered some startling information.”
“Indeed?” Foxleigh ushered Sumner back to the small oak table and gestured to the servant for more tea.
“A footman was behind the domestic espionage.”
Foxleigh rolled his eyes heavenward and harrumphed. “It is always a ruddy footman, is it not? I should probably put up an embargo against any member of staff caught being more handsome than he has any right to be.”
Sumner’s smile was still restrained. “My investigator soon discovered that there was much more afoot.”
“More afoot than the footman? Heavens!” Still unable to elicit a chuckle from the serious Sumner, Foxleigh finally sighed in concession. “What more?”
Sumner swallowed. “It appears Marie Dubois’ espionage was only part of a greater plot. Forgive me for the shock, your grace, but she was behind the robbery itself. The plan was that no one should be harmed, if her henchmen are to be believed. Only the carriage was to be disabled so that she could accidentally come across you and come to your aid.”
Foxleigh’s eyes narrowed. “I did not believe I could think less of Mrs. Dubois, but you have proven me wrong.” He stood up and paced the room, looking for something to break. “That woman conspired to commit a heinous felony and is responsible for the deaths of three good men. Has she been arrested?”
Sumner shifted uncomfortably. “Her co-conspirators have been found out and are in gaol. But I am afraid the lady herself has not yet been located.”
Foxleigh paused at a large ornate vase and considered kicking it over. But no. Breaking things would not relieve his anger. And if Marie was still slithering about plotting, his energy was better spent arranging more security for Katherine. He had clearly underestimated the evil that Marie was capable of. He could take no further risks. Foxleigh strode to the door. “Thank you, Sumner. I authorize you to post a one thousand pound reward for her apprehension. Excuse me, I must go see to arranging an armed guard for my bride.”
The words sounded so utterly strange. He wondered, as he made to leave the startled Sumner, if any man had ever before said such a thing on his wedding day.
“But wait, your grace! I have other news. It seems your grace was right about that land agent. Atherton has been swindling the elderly Mr. Burns for some time.”
“I am not at all surprised, Sumner. Now be a good fellow and give Dog some more bacon,” Foxleigh called back through the door, before slipping away. “And make sure Burns has a good barrister when you hand the information over to him. I will pay for that too.”
He no longer cared about vengeance against Atherton. A sense of foreboding gripped him. He must get to Katherine immediately.
Chapter 17 The Penitent and the Imp
The warmth from the curling tongs and brazier carried the scent of pomades and perfumes about the toilette, enfolding Katherine in a heady cloud of luxury. She wanted to pinch herself as she peered into the looking glass.
It did not seem to be real. The lady’s maids had utterly transformed her, and so quickly. Her skin glowed and her eyes sparkled with a luster to match the profusion of pearls in her creamy silk dress. The small embellishments of holly on each side of her coiffure were a lovely homage to the festivity surrounding her wedding. She was about to receive the best early Christmas present imaginable. I wonder if God will cast white rose petals for the occasion. She mentally stuck out her tongue at Marie.
She could not stop marveling at the reflection in the long mirror. Was it really her? She could almost see, within her brightened eyes and the glossy mass of black curls that cascaded from the coronet of her hair, a glimmer of the stellar debutante she had once been. And yet, there was something much more there. The capability and self-command that her gown and hair could only frame were so much better