She sighed. “Yes. Many people dislike the crowds, the noise, the smoke and smells, but it’salive.There’s something exciting around every corner. The arts, the sciences, the fairs and shops. If I can move the dowager elsewhere...”
“Dreaming on a star?”
“There has to be a way. To make everything right, I mean.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Perhaps we can’t achieve international peace, but we should be able toput one country estate into a healthy and stable condition.” He brushed tangled hair off her face. “Don’t fret about it for now, Kit Kat. We’re here and have reason to stay a while. Take pleasure in the day. And the night.”
She smiled and kissed him, then enjoyed the simple pleasure of falling asleep in her husband’s arms.
He’d called her Kit Kat.
Chapter 34
As they breakfasted the next morning, Kitty wondered if the servants could recognize the momentous change. She felt that it radiated out of her and showed in every look and smile they shared. Perhaps this was love. They were behaving much as lovers do, with sudden smiles and lingering looks.
Though her husband had the same cool elegance on the outside, the marble box had melted away to reveal warmth and passion. He’d been tender in ways she’d never known and forceful in others. They’d talked in the intimate dark, but often lain in each other’s arms in comfortable silence. They had been physically comfortable, but she felt sure that he, like she, had been aware of how few nights they would have together.
She’d resolved to enjoy what they had, however, even such simple pleasures as breakfast.
Then, with the door closed, he shared his secrets. He told her his reason for coming to Town and invited her comments. She’d have done her best to help him anyway, but now it was a gift.
“An attempt to blow up three middle-aged princes to prevent their marrying seems deranged,” she said.
“There are all too many deranged people active at the moment, and some capable of doing damage. Onlymonths ago, a woman attempted to blow up Westminster, hoping to trigger a revolution similar to the one in France.”
“Madness! How?”
“Using a gasometer.”
“At least that’s a novel idea,” Kitty said, buttering another slice of toast. “In contrast, this seems clumsy, and very old-fashioned. A barrel of gunpowder in the basement? All too like Guy Fawkes.”
“The Gunpowder Plot could easily have worked,” he pointed out. “If there’d been no warning back in 1605, Catesby and Fawkes could have blown up king and Parliament and changed the course of history.”
Kitty nibbled her toast, as delighted by this discussion as she’d been by their lovemaking in the night. Almost. “If it was so easy to get the barrel of gunpowder into the house, why not deliver it later? Then they could have overwhelmed the footman, set it to explode, and escaped with the task completed.”
“I hope you never put your mind to mayhem,” he said drily. “But a daylight delivery would be normal, whereas an evening one wouldn’t.”
“True. And they’d be busier then, so might refuse the delivery.” She sipped some chocolate. Again he was drinking ordinary coffee. He’d said that he kept the Turkish for special moments. She’d teased him about this not being special....
“Interesting thoughts?” he asked.
“Not on the current matter.” He reflected her smile, but she dragged her mind back to the problem. “Let’s return to the beginning. You said that even if the plot had succeeded, there’d be no immediate benefit to anyone beyond alarm and distress. Could there be some unsuspected benefit to anyone?”
He leaned back in his seat. “It wasn’t to do with thesuccession at all? A direct plot against one of the princes, disguised by the presence of the others?”
“I’d not even imagined that. It would be vile—to kill three to get one. How many people could think like that? And what could drive them to it?”
“People kill over remarkably petty matters—a grudge, a slight, a few shillings of debt—and often they don’t consider the effects on others, but I agree. It would be astonishing to feel that way about royalty, and be willing to make the attempt.”
Kitty considered matters. “The most dramatic event in recent times was Princess Charlotte’s death. Could the plot arise from that?”
“The succession,” he said.
“Put that aside. There’s sympathy for the Regent’s loss, but anger about the treatment Charlotte received. Many think the queen should have been in attendance, and some hold her and the Regent responsible for the choice of doctors.”
“But the plot was aimed at neither.”
“Perhaps our crackbrain realized he couldn’t strike at the main players and went after the Regent’s brothers instead. You don’t believe that?”
