Clairemont let out a sigh of relief, even though he knew better than to trust Rosalinde and Celia with following orders. The sisters were of one mind when it came to watching out for those they cared for. He could only hope their desire to protect each other would trump anything else.
There was a sound in the hall, and Gray turned away from the bookcase and took his seat at the desk, cutting off all other communication just as Green stepped into the room.
“The Marquess Turner-Camden, my lord,” he said, ushering a man into the room.
Clairemont leaned in closer to get a good look at the person. He was the only one who had never seen Turner-Camden before, and he couldn’t say he was impressed. The man was short, squat and nearly as wide as he was tall. His clothing was dandified and he wore what looked to be a fortune in jewels on his hands.
“My lord,” Gray said, and Clairemont was in awe of his calm demeanor. Gray knew this man could very well be dangerous beyond measure and yet he gave nothing away. “How nice to see you again. It’s been too long.”
“It has, Mr. Danford,” the marquess agreed as he flopped heavily into the chair across from Gray’s. “I’m so pleased we could meet so swiftly after my arrival.”
“Your note sounded most urgent,” Gray continued. “I trust whatever business kept you from Town earlier has been resolved to your satisfaction.”
Turner-Camden’s face pinched. “Not quite. But it will be soon enough.”
Clairemont shot Stalwood a glance. Was the man talking about his assassination of the real Clairemont or something else entirely? Who was to say?
“Did it have anything to do with our business together?” Gray pressed, steering the conversation to the topics Stalwood and Clairemont would be most interested in. “With our partnership with the Duke of Clairemont?”
“Something along those lines,” Turner-Camden drawled in a nasal tone that grated across Clairemont’s spine. He didn’t like this man. There was something that felt entirely wrong about him.
“His being back in London has created quite the stir,” Gray said, leaning back in his chair like he had not a care in the world.”
“So I’ve heard.” Turner-Camden leaned forward. “He is even courting your wife’s sister, I’ve been told.”
“Yes, he is quite serious about Celia, it seems.” Gray shook his head. “But I have my…my hesitations.”
Clairemont looked over his shoulder, and in the dim light he met Stalwood’s eyes. His mentor looked just as impressed as he was by Gray’s performance so far. The man could have easily been a spy, himself.
“Well, I had hoped to talk to you about Clairemont when I came here,” Turner-Camden said. “As my note mentioned.”
“Excellent. What would you like to discuss?” Gray asked.
Turner-Camden shifted in his chair and from Clairemont’s angle, he saw the man’s eyes narrow. He was sizing Gray up, analyzing him. What he saw or thought or would do next was anyone’s guess, but Clairemont didn’t like the change. He just hoped Gray saw it, too, and was prepared.
“I’d like your thoughts first. What are yourhesitations?”
Gray waited a beat before he answered. “Well, to be honest, Clairemont has been…oddsince his return to Society. He is not the man I recall he was when I knew him in our schoolboy days.”
Turner-Camden straightened at that statement and his hand clenched slightly on the armrest of his chair. “I see,” he ground out.
Clairemont leaned closer to the bookshelf, using everything in him not to burst out and interrupt the meeting. “Don’t push,” he said beneath his breath. “Don’t push.”
But of course Gray couldn’t hear him. And it was obvious Gray thought he was close to something big. “You know him better than I do. He was the one who suggested you come on board in the canal project. So I thought perhaps you could tell me more.”
Turner-Camden rose slowly and paced away, and Clairemont caught his breath. His view of the room was limited by the narrow opening in the bookcase. If Turner-Camden wasn’t sitting right in the chair across from Gray, he could no longer be seen. Which meant Clairemont could now only judge what was happening by what he heard and what Gray did in reaction.
“You want to know more about Clairemont,” Turner-Camden drawled from across the room. “Very interesting. You see, I came here today to get more information from you, Danford. I may not have been in London these past few weeks, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t been informed of what has been happening here.”
Gray remained in his place at his desk, but Clairemont noticed how his shoulders stiffened. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“You’ve been spending a good deal of time with Clairemont for a man who questions his motives,” Turner-Camden said. “And interestingly enough you’ve also spent some time with a very good friend of this Clairemont…the Earl of Stalwood.”
Behind Clairemont, Stalwood drew a sharp breath. He had been a spymaster for decades and never had his identity revealed except by the very unusual circumstances with the Danfords and Celia. But Turner-Camden said his name like he knew something about him. And if Turner-Camden was truly the Rooster, he had betrayed too many spies not to take that seriously.
Gray rose slowly and Clairemont could see he was taking a defensive posture. Damn, but he wished he could see Turner-Camden.
“I’m not sure what the Earl of Stalwood has to do with anything. He and my brother are friendly and yes, he’s been to my home a few times.”
