“Not quite what I asked.”
After a moment, Braydon said, “Benefitted by thefailedattempt?”
“I merely pose the question.”
“But hardly anyone knows,” Beaumont objected. “So how could it serve someone’s aim?”
“The three princes know,” Braydon said, “and probably their immediate households. The Regent knows, and he was going to discuss it with the Privy Council. Possibly people in Sidmouth’s office know. Mrs. Courtenay and her household do, plus anyone they gossiped to.”
“The queen,” Ball added. “Clarence might have told her when he returned to Bath. Was it directed at her as suggested?”
“A warning shot only?” Braydon asked. “Dashed odd. Let’s return to the excellent question—what, if anything, has already been achieved?”
“Other than disturbing our lives?” Ball asked drily.
“Other than that.”
They all considered it.
“The princes are now accepting increased protection,” Beaumont said at last.
“Then perhaps,” Charrington murmured, “Sidmouth or some other person in the government did the deed.”
“Devil take it,” Braydon said. “Do I now have the task of interrogating the Home Secretary about his role in the plot?”
“Unfair that you escape scot-free.”
“This would be a simpler matter if the gunpowderhad exploded and taken them all to kingdom come! As it stands, it’s beginning to resemble a farce.” Braydon remembered something. “Perhaps it’s appropriate that I’m attending the theater this evening. You would all be welcome to join us in our box at Covent Garden if you’re free. And Lady Ball as well, of course. Mrs. Beaumont, too, if she’s not engaged at Drury Lane.”
“She’s not,” Beaumont said, “and will enjoy scrutinizing rivals.”
Braydon thanked the other men for their assistance and Beaumont for his hospitality and set off home, hoping Kitty had returned from her dressmaker.
But then he took a detour, pleased at the thought of purchasing more gifts for his wife.
Chapter 37
When Braydon returned home, he shed his outerwear, put his boxed gift on his bed, and went in search of his wife.
He found her in the library, writing a letter, curls of her burnished hair escaping around her nape. She was as perfect a part of the room as his carefully chosen furniture. When she returned to the Abbey, these rooms would feel hollow, especially without the warm smile she turned on him.
Her dog came over, tail wagging, which was strangely pleasant.
“Have you had an enjoyable outing?” he asked, fondling Sillikin.
“I have,” Kitty said. “I’ve begun the process of obtaining new gowns for the spring. Brightly colored gowns.”
“You’re weary of mourning, but you must wear sober colors this evening.”
“I know, and Janet is bringing an old gown up to the mark.”
In mere hours?he wondered, but he didn’t say it. He wondered if the new gowns Kitty had ordered would be fine enough for the spring season in the beau monde, but that was a difficulty for another day.
“I have something to assist you,” he said. “In the bedroom.”
The look she gave him was decidedly saucy and possibly hopeful. God save him.
She saw the box and went quickly to open it, as eager as a child.
