When a Duchess Says I Do - Grace Burrowes Page 0,77
on the unfortunate situation in which you find yourself. What caused you to flee your father’s household?”
Her smile faded like the last rays of sun from the evening sky. “I had attracted the notice of Colonel Lord Atticus Parker, a marquess’s younger son making a career in the military.”
“The war hero,” Duncan said, hating the fellow on general principles.
“Atticus is not a bad sort.”
Duncan hated him a little less. “He sought to win your hand, and all you can say about him is that he’s not a bad sort?”
“He was levelheaded under fire, fought alongside his men, and held some impossible hillside when holding it was needed. He’s dogged like that. His courting had the same quality. Flowers twice a week, chocolates from Paris on Sunday. A walk in the park on Friday morning, a waltz on Wednesday night.”
“Sounds dull rather than dogged. I expect his chess was uninspired.”
She closed her eyes. “Terribly. I lost on purpose with Atticus at least often enough to protect his pride. That should have told me something, but all the while, he was advancing his pawns, and eventually I gave him permission to pay me his addresses. I thought my father would be relieved that I was considering remarriage.”
“I met men like your father in my travels with Stephen. They fawned all over the lad, flattering him shamelessly.”
“Why flatter a youth on a grand tour?”
“Because those who deal in intrigue are always attempting to recruit from the ranks of aristocracy’s younger sons. Spares especially have nothing better to do than resent their lot and feel ignored, and Stephen was and is the ducal heir. A spot of lucrative espionage would have appealed to his vanity. Spying then becomes a means of blackmailing further services from the unsuspecting dupe. Stephen loathes idleness, though boredom never had a more expensive cure than crime.”
The fire popped, and Matilda started. Duncan went back to hating Atticus Parker unreservedly.
“Parker is searching for you?”
“Atticus caught me with the evidence. I was in Papa’s study because we never let that hearth go cold. I went there to fetch a carrying candle to light the sconces in the family parlor, where Atticus and I spent Tuesday evenings together. I needed to trim the wick on the carrying candle, so I rummaged in Papa’s desk for a pair of scissors.”
Duncan longed to take Matilda in his arms while she revisited this memory, but touching her would distract him unbearably.
“What time of the evening was this?”
“A little past eight. Parker would come by at nine for tea, dessert, and conversation. I am a widow, I need not be chaperoned for such a call, and thus Papa usually absented himself on Tuesday nights.”
“Your father was from home this particular night?”
“He was. I think Papa’s life was easier when I was stashed in a castle by the North Sea. My life was easier, too, though I was bored witless.”
Your husband owned a damned castle? “Parker came upon you in your father’s study?”
She bowed her head, hunching in on herself. “Worse than that. I did not find the scissors in the desk drawer, so I searched Papa’s satchel. This satchel should have confirmed his spying, if nothing else did. It has hidden pockets and secret panels all obscured by the design tooled into the leather. I was searching them one by one when I came across a document written in a combination of German, French, and Spanish.”
“Code?” Though those were hardly obscure languages to a Continental traveler.
“I sat at the desk, pulled out pencil and paper, and began translating. A lively curiosity has ever been a failing of mine.”
I am in love with your lively curiosity. Matilda would have had a half to three-quarters of an hour to work, if Parker were punctual. “What did you find?”
“Plans to invade France, I think. No specific dates, but ports of entry, potential billets, Dutch involvement, none of it quite coherent, but then, I was not the intended recipient of the information and my command of Spanish is lacking.”
“We are at peace with the French.” For now. Napoleon’s rampages had lasted most of twenty years, and warfare had become a way of life for many. Still, invading France struck Duncan as an unlikely initiative, or perhaps a contingent scenario, just as certain government offices were always prepared for the death of the monarch.
“I know what was on that page, Duncan, and I did not bring the information to the attention of any proper authority.”