“My wife, my mother-in-law, and our queen.”
“And the threat?”
Nash blew out a heavy sigh. “We have yet to identify the assassin. Unfortunately, I have concluded that a trap must be set.”
Sir Malcolm frowned, then shifted his focus from his glass to Nash. “Is your mother-in-law not the infamous Lady Nia? The former spy most trusted and valued by the Crown?”
“She is. Though most do not remember her as such, since she remained in France after her husband’s assassination.” He hated to rush the general, but he needed to get back to Merritt and the others waiting for him at Rydleshire House. “Do you know of Burns’s whereabouts? You know he was the best of the four.”
The baronet’s woolly white brows knotted together over his troubled eyes. “Therein lies the problem, old boy. Burns is working for me.” He cleared his throat, downed the rest of his port, then took a long, hard draw on his cigar and blew out the smoke, filling the air with the acridly pungent scent. “He is seeing to a very personal matter of which I am most ashamed.”
A deep sense of loyalty booted Nash square in his conscience. He also wanted Burns as part of his team. If he helped the general with thispersonal matter, perhaps Burns would be free to help protect Sophie and the dowager countess.
“Is there something I could help with?” he asked as delicately as possible.
The old man exhaled another roiling column of smoke while frowning off into the distance. “It is Adelaide. She has not only ruined herself but thoroughly besmirched the Hampshire name.” Still scowling, he slowly shook his head. “But she is myonly child. My beloved daughter whom I shall always love, no matter what. I cannot bear the thought of disowning her, even though that is what her mother wishes.”
Nash remembered Miss Adelaide Hampshire well. A stunning beauty with golden hair, large, mesmerizing eyes, and curves that made her extremely dangerous, since she was the general’s daughter. As he recalled, Miss Hampshire also possessed a somewhat forward nature that had ruined many a young lady who refused to listen to her elders. “How can I help, general?”
“That, I cannot say.” Sir Malcolm shook his head again. “After the Duke of Winstead refused to support the bastard he foisted upon her, she would not agree to come home and send the cause of her shame to a place for foundlings. Instead, she charmed an unknown source into footing the bill for the scheme she settled upon to support herself and the child.”
“And that scheme was?” Nash hazarded to ask.
“A sporting hotel on Bond Street.” The general’s shoulders sagged. He suddenly looked weary and spent. “My daughter is the madam of a brothel that caters to some of the wealthiest in London.”
Nash was at a loss for words. There was nothing he could say that would console his old friend, and he also didn’t quite know how he might help. But duty and old loyalties demanded that he try. “What can I do?”
Sir Malcolm tamped out his cigar on the plate he used to catch the ashes. He brushed his hands together, then held out his glass. “Pour me another. That is what you can do.”
After refilling both their glasses and handing the general his, Nash settled back in his chair. “How is Burns helping you?”
“He is her doorman, and protector if need be. Wealthy gentlemen of Society or not, some of her clients behave as though the world is theirs for entertainment no matter the cost—or the injury to anyone else involved.” He sipped his port, then cut his gaze back to Nash. “I realize my daughter is a fallen woman, but she did not get to that level by herself.” He snorted out a pained growl. “And Burns reports that since her child died, Adelaide has not been the same. He said it’s as though she dares fate to do something else to cause her more pain. She takes unnecessary risks.” He relit his cigar and took several long, deep puffs. “She will always be my dear little Adelaide, and I want her safe. My solicitor showed her what I set up for her in Belgium, so she might start anew, but she laughed at it and refused. Said it was too modest and common, and not enough to support her for a month. She also said she needed excitement, not some paltry little cottage on the outskirts of a dull little village in the country.”
The more the poor general talked about his daughter, the more hopeless the situation seemed to Nash. If the girl didn’t wish to change and start anew, she couldn’t be forced to do so. And there was also the matter of paying off whoever had sponsored her setting up of thesporting hotel. With it on Bond Street, that financial undertaking would have been quite substantial. Only one possible solution came to him, and it was a very weak one. “If she needs excitement, perhaps she should become a spy for the Crown. My mother-in-law’s Rydleshire Academy still trains candidates.”
Sir Malcolm thoughtfully pursed his lips and tipped his head to one side. “Considering my Adelaide’sskills”—he abruptly cleared his throat,—“she might make quite the effective agent for Her Majesty.” Then his forehead wrinkled, and he appeared about to lose his composure. “But how will that keep my precious girl safe?”
“While I cannot guarantee her safety, perhaps with time, it will enable her to forgive herself for choices she wishes she never made and accept your offer of that cottage in Belgium.”
“You think it will increase her opinion of herself?”
Nash rose from his chair and set his empty glass aside. “That I cannot say, but it would provide her with the excitement she told your solicitor she needed, and a different set of acquaintances from those with whom she currently keeps company. I have also witnessed a change in those who suddenly discover they are valued and have an honorable purpose in their lives.” He tipped an uncertain shrug, at a loss for any other alternatives for the wayward lady. “Burns could go along with her if he wanted. There is a nearby village where he could stay and still watch over her.”
“Burns would go. The man loves her.” Sir Malcolm snorted. “He doesn’t think I know, but I am not a fool.” He squinted up at Nash. “But what about you? You said you needed his services.”
“I would like to have his services, but it appears your daughter needs him just as direly as I do. I have Forthrite, Tomes, Freedly, and Wethersby.” He offered his old friend a humble nod. “I shan’t be greedy.”
“How do you propose my daughter learns of this opportunity? She refuses to darken our door here.” Sir Malcolm rumbled with another irritated growl. “And rightly so, after the way her mother treated her the last time she visited.”
“I would be more than happy to go to Bond Street and speak with her,” Nash said, somewhat relieved that he’d found some small way to help his old friend. “I shall also inform Burns. Perhaps he can gently urge her to agree if she refuses at first.”
“And you are certain the infamous Lady Nia will agree? It had always been my understanding that Rydleshire Academy was quite selective.”
A snorting laugh escaped Nash as he remembered what his mother-in-law had said long ago. “Lady Nia accepts her candidates based on three prerequisites: drive, raw talent ready to be refined, and the ability to pay for her exemplary training.”With a reassuring nod, he added, “And since you are my friend, there will be no cost for Miss Hampshire’s training.” He felt sure the dowager countess would waive the fees. Especially since Sophie had shown him the ledgers of all the businesses they had funded to help women support themselves and their families. He had been amazed at the Rydleshire empire and its intricate web of ventures that gave women the opportunities they deserved.
After a throatyharrumph, Sir Malcolm resettled himself in his chair. “I do not expect charity. I may only be a baronet and a retired general, but I am not a man without means.”
“It is not charity. It is friendship. Would you not do the same for me?”
