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The Regency Season: Passionate Promises: The Duke's Daring Debutante / Return of the Prodigal Gilvry
The Regency Season: Passionate Promises: The Duke's Daring Debutante / Return of the Prodigal Gilvry
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The Regency Season: Passionate Promises: The Duke's Daring Debutante / Return of the Prodigal Gilvry

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Minette glanced over at him with a smile. ‘You like this game.’

It wasn’t really a question, but he answered anyway. ‘I do.’

‘Do you also belong to a team?’

It was an innocent enough question, but it meant more than she might have guessed because she didn’t see any reason why he might not belong to a team. The villagers hadn’t minded his lameness, either. He may not have been a fast runner but he could hit, and had a good eye when it came to catching. He grinned at her. Yes, he was actually grinning. ‘Dukes have their dignity to maintain, you know.’

She laughed. ‘Lazybones.’

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the companion twitching anxiously. Looking as if she felt the need to set the record straight, to defend him from the accusation of laziness and attribute it to his lame leg. His grin died.

‘Oh, look!’ Minette said. ‘That is Monsieur Brummell. I really thought it was a tease to get me to come with you today.’

Brummell strode out onto the pitch to a round of applause and a few catcalls. As usual he looked cool and elegant.

‘How on earth did they convince him to take part?’ Lady Priscilla asked. ‘I heard he hates any form of violent exercise.’

They watched in silent awe as the arbiter of fashion made run after run, reaching a grand total of twenty-three before he was finally caught. The man was good. He bowed to the applause that broke out as he left.

During the interval, the servants served delicacies designed to please the ladies—cucumber sandwiches and little cakes, along with more champagne and a fresh pot of tea.

‘It is all so very English,’ Minette said, glancing over at him with a challenging look.

‘Is that good or bad?’

‘Très bon,’ she said in a decided way that gave him a sense of great contentment he found unexpected. She frowned. ‘There is a man over there, he keeps looking this way.’

He kept his voice low, for her ears only. ‘He’s probably wishing he was here instead of me, given my lovely companions.’

She sat up a little straighter. ‘Are you flirting with me, Freddy?’

‘Is it not the duty of a fiancé to flirt with his intended?’

The kittenish look reappeared. ‘Now you really are teasing.’ She smiled at him, and something inside him contracted.

It wasn’t lust, though there was always an undercurrent of that whenever she was nearby, it was about liking. Not something he had ever expected. On a day like today, it was too easy to imagine living this sort of life of easy companionship, mutual respect perhaps even— No. That was too much to ask. This marriage was all about maintaining the proprieties and keeping Gabe’s friendship. It would only ever be one small facet of his life, of necessity.

‘He’s coming over,’ Minette said.

Arthur. A cold fist settled in his gut. He rose to his feet. ‘Cousin,’ he said as the man reached them.

‘I hear congratulations are in order,’ Arthur said, his expression sour.

‘Thank you, cuz. I did not expect to see you here today.’

‘Liz’s idea,’ his cousin said, kicking at a tuft of grass.

Ah, yes. Liz would have been shocked to her toes at the news. Freddy couldn’t help feeling a little twinge of satisfaction. Not that his impending marriage would alter the line of inheritance at all, but it might shake Liz out of her complacency.

‘May I introduce you to my betrothed, Mademoiselle Rideau, her friend, Lady Priscilla, and her companion, Miss Bernice? Authur Stone. My cousin.’

Arthur bowed low over the two young ladies’ hands and gave Miss Bernice a brief nod. It was without question the appropriate greeting, but Minette bristled. Once she knew Arthur, she would understand that his cousin had little or no self-esteem and, therefore, establishing the order of precedence was of prime importance.

‘It is delightful to meet a member of Freddy’s family,’ Minette said, dipping a curtsey. ‘You are the first.’

‘I was at Gosport’s ball,’ Arthur said with a disapproving frown, ‘though it did not seem quite the right time for introductions.’

Minette raised a questioning brow.

Arthur rocked on his heels, his ears turning pink. ‘I had another engagement.’

No doubt he had scuttled off to confer with his wife.

Minette smiled and said nothing.

‘Are the boys here?’ Freddy asked, looking around. ‘And Liz?’

‘No. I am here with a friend.’ He winced. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here, old chap, cricket not being your sort of thing.’ More foot-shuffling. ‘Do you think we can have a word in private?’

‘It looks as if the match is about to start again,’ Lady Priscilla said.

The players were striding onto the field, talking and laughing, with Beau Brummell in their midst. They separated to take up their various positions. With the attention now focussed on play, Arthur leaned closer. ‘About this engagement of yours. Do you think it is such a good idea?’

‘I don’t think it is any of your business, actually,’ Freddy said, smiling.

Arthur flinched. ‘There is the business of the accident.’ He glanced around and lowered his voice still further. ‘New information might come to light at any time. No statute of limitations, and that sort of thing.’

Freddy turned to face him square on, his anger icy in his veins. Arthur had always sworn he’d seen nothing of the accident. ‘Have you regained your memory, then?’

The other man turned back to the game. ‘I was a boy. I panicked. But in hindsight there are things I remember. Perhaps.’

Freddy’s hand curled into fists. This was Liz’s work, no doubt. ‘Go to hell, Arthur. Whatever scandal arises will taint you, too, you know.’

Arthur shrivelled in on himself. ‘You should think about it, though,’ he said. ‘That’s all. Think about it.’

Freddy wanted to strangle him. Or Liz. Or both of them together. But they were his family. And he’d already been the death of one member of it. ‘Tell Liz she has nothing to fear with regard to the succession.’

A shout went up and he turned his head to see a ball heading straight at his party. An excellent hit over the boundary. He stretched out a hand and caught it to a burst of applause.

‘Well caught, sir,’ someone yelled.

He threw it back to the bowler, who bowed his thanks. Meanwhile, the batsman was awarded six runs.

He glanced around. Arthur, the sniveller, had taken the opportunity to scuttle off and was now talking to a group a little distance away, but he must have felt Freddy’s gaze on him because he half turned and gave a terse nod of understanding. It seemed he was content to accept Freddy’s word, for now.

‘Freddy,’ Minette said, smiling at him over her shoulder. ‘I cannot believe you caught that ball. They will surely ask you to join their team.’

The bitterness inside him escaped his control. ‘No. They won’t. I can’t run.’ And everyone knew it. Half of them had been at school with him.

Her expression of shock at his harsh words followed quickly by the look of pity in her lovely brown eyes only made him feel worse.

Damn it all. He never whined about his foot. ‘And as I told you, dukes are far too important to be playing silly games. I invited you because you need to know about one of England’s most important institutions.’

The ice coating his voice must have reached her as her back straightened. The smile disappeared. ‘You are right.’ She turned away from him and addressed a remark to Lady Priscilla.

He didn’t hear what she said for the angry rush of blood in his ears.

Curse Arthur. If he really knew something, why had he never mentioned it before? He was bluffing. Applying pressure.

And with that sort of thing in the wind, the thought of Minette meeting Mother made him feel physically ill.

Chapter Eight (#u0a6ddd1a-e282-55ad-9117-27af6c29a758)

While Freddy had maintained an outward calm and the rest of the afternoon had been enjoyable, it was perfectly clear to Minette he had withdrawn inside himself. Leaving only a walking, talking, icy shell.

The guilt of her careless words weighed her down, but it wasn’t until after they had deposited Priscilla and her companion on the Sparshott doorstep and the carriage had moved off again that she dared to broach the subject. ‘I beg your pardon. When I said about you joining the team, I forgot about your leg. I did not mean to cause you embarrassment.’

‘You didn’t.’ His voice was shards of ice grating down her spine.

Oh, the man was too infuriating. ‘Then why are you being so distant?’

He blinked. And something more humane appeared in his dark blue gaze. ‘I apologise. I was thinking about something someone said.’

A flash of light went off in her brain. ‘Your cousin. He said something that upset you, didn’t he?’ She pressed a hand to her stomach to still the sense of unease she felt.

His expression shuttered.

‘I see.’ She folded her hands in her lap. ‘You do not trust me.’

‘It isn’t that.’

‘Then what?’

‘It is old family business. I’m sorry, I should not have let it affect me that way. But there is something else I need to tell you. We have the name of Madame Vitesse’s brother. He is Henri Latour and he has black hair and brown eyes and a scar at the base of his right thumb.’

She gasped at the detail. ‘How do you know this?’

‘If I know it, the Home Office knows it, too. You need to trust me in this, Minette. Convince Madame Vitesse to put us in touch with the man right away and give me the information, or they will make a mess of the whole business.’

He had not answered her question, but it was no longer of importance.

‘I apologise for not trusting you, Freddy. And I will persuade her to tell us everything. If you will promise to trust me.’

If he didn’t Nicky’s life would be ruined.

He regarded her for a long moment. ‘I trust you.’

Her foolish heart gave a little skip. But her foolish heart did not always listen to reason. She only dared trust Freddy in this. After that she was on her own, as she had always been.

* * *

Minette called on Madame Vitesse the next morning. The interview proved uncomfortable, to say the least, once the woman realised what she was asking.

The woman folded her arms across her chest. ‘You have not yet kept your side of our bargain.’

Minette lifted her chin. ‘Why should I, if someone else obtains the information before I do?’

Madame Vitesse blinked. ‘No one but me knows where my brother is.’

‘You know that is not true. Someone knows. A street sweeper. An innkeeper. A landlady. There is always someone. And those seeking him are not all as honourable as Falconwood. He will keep his word to you. I will wear your gowns.’ She reached out and grasped the other woman’s hand in her own. ‘Why would I not? They are beautiful. Unique. I have had more compliments this past week than ever before.’ She gestured around the upstairs workshop at the women plying their needles. ‘You already have more work than you can handle alone.’

Madame Vitesse swallowed. ‘He is the only family I have left, apart from the children.’

‘We both know what it is to try to protect our families,’ she said softly. ‘If I don’t find this man we seek, if others reach him before me, those I care about will be in danger.’

The woman took a deep breath and leaned close. ‘You will find Henri in the evenings at the The Town of Ramsgate in Wapping. He has work at the docks. There he goes by the name Henry Tower. It is what the English call him.’

Minette squeezed her hand. ‘Thank you. I promise you will not regret it. Now, let me try on the ballgown.’ She had to hurry. Freddy would want to hear this news.

‘Merci, Mademoiselle. You are very kind.’

‘Not at all. We Frenchwomen must stick together.’

* * *

Freddy left his phaeton with his tiger. She had apologised for not trusting him. Twice. Freddy didn’t believe it. The lady doth protest too much. Shakespeare might be every schoolboy’s worst nightmare, but he was also an insightful man. If Freddy had to make a wager on it, he’d bet his estate that Minette didn’t trust him one little bit. And he couldn’t help but wonder who had abused the trust of such a very young woman.

He glanced down at the note he had received at his lodgings.

I have what we need. Call for me in your phaeton. I will tell Nicky we have arranged to go for a drive, but come late, after six.

Given his visceral understanding, how was he to convince her to trust him to visit the seamstress’s brother without her? Appeal to her sense? The risk? Danger came in a variety of guises. If the Home Office boys followed them, who the hell knew what they would do with the information that his French fiancée was involved in Sceptre business?

The butler bowed him into the Mooreshead town house. ‘The ladies are in the drawing room, Your Grace.’

‘Thank you. No need to show me up, I am expected.’ He climbed the stairs to the first floor and found Nicky working on some embroidery while Minette read aloud. A picture of domesticity that tugged at a chord in his chest. Longing. Good God, since when had he found such dullness appealing? He didn’t.

Minette put the book down the moment he entered. ‘Freddy, what took you so long? I thought you were to come earlier.’

‘One of my horses threw a shoe.’ He bowed to Nicky. ‘Good day, Lady Mooreshead. I hope I find you well?’

‘Very well indeed,’ Nicky said with a warm smile. She looked radiant. ‘I am glad you are finally here to take this fidget out for a drive.’

Minette laughed. ‘She made me read to stop me from pacing. It won’t take me a minute or two to get my hat.’

She dashed from the room.

Nicky shook her head. ‘So much vivacity. I am glad you are able to take her out. Gabe is so busy with the estate and Parliament he scarcely has a moment to spare.’ She touched a hand to her stomach then blushed. ‘The very thought of getting into a carriage makes me feel unwell at the moment.’