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A View to a Kiss

Page 92

by Caroline Linden

“She asked me about you today,” Brandon said. “It appears she wants you as much as you want her, and I... Let us say, I had a suspicion. I was sitting up when the earl rang, thinking he’d heard a rat. I gather he listened at the door for a while. But I sent Frances up to her ladyship and went after Stafford, on the odd chance you’d finally misplaced your luck.

“The other fellow—Camden—was there with him. Don’t know why, but they didn’t seem surprised to see me, and when he set his horses to, we crossed London in a matter of minutes.”

“Impeccable instincts,” Harry said. “And prefect timing.”

Brandon coughed. “For you. Camden’s your family?”

“My mother’s father,” Harry muttered. “Not that I’ve ever seen or spoken to him before in my life.”

“It appears he would like to change that.”

Harry wasn’t sure, but it was true that if he went into politics, Camden’s connection would help. And it would indeed make his mother happy if he could mend the breach with her family. “Perhaps.” A long moment of silence. “I’m a damned fool. I know.”

“Without question.” Brandon paused. “I was standing right next to the coach and never noticed the keg. If you hadn’t shouted⁠—”

“And if you hadn’t fetched Stafford tonight...” Harry shrugged. “I’d say we’re even.”

Brandon nodded in acceptance. “All square.”

“I’m out,” said Harry abruptly. “I’ve had enough of this.”

“I expected as much. A married man cannot have so many secrets, nor fling himself in front of so many powder kegs.”

Harry hesitated, then added urgently, “You should leave, too. This assignment was not what he told us. Stafford misled all of us.”

Brandon’s mouth quirked bitterly. “Don’t you think I would, if I could?” He put out his hand. “Good fortune to you. And to Lady Mariah. Especially to Lady Mariah.”

Harry clasped his hand. “And to you, Alec.”

“Give my notice to Doncaster, will you? I expect he won’t want me back.” He gave Harry a wry look. “You’re a better messenger than I am now.” Harry nodded once, and Brandon turned on his heel.

As he walked away, Mariah slipped into the corridor. “Who is he, really?” she asked. “That is not a footman.”

Slowly, Harry shook his head, still thinking about Brandon’s words. I would, if I could. What did Stafford have over Brandon? “I don’t know. But he’s a good man.” He looked down at her. “We all have secrets.”

Mariah put her arms around him, twining her fingers through his and resting her cheek on his shoulder. She looked up at him with soft, luminous eyes. “What secrets do you have, Harry?”

“From you? None I shall keep any longer.”

“And you’ll tell me everything? Why you were Lord Wroth and a secretary and spied on my father and climbed in my window?”

Harry thought of Stafford’s words—he had been one of his best men. Stafford knew he was out. He put his arm around her shoulders. “Yes, I shall tell you everything. Not tonight—we must have something to talk about all the days to come, and it’s perhaps best not to exhaust every topic at once.”

“I don’t think I shall ever grow tired of talking to you.”

“Well, should I run on and begin to bore you, you know just how to silence me.” He kissed her lightly, then more deeply as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him in place.

“A useful skill. I shall take care to stay in good practice on that one.”

“I insist upon it.” Harry drew her fully into his arms, holding her close despite the chance of being discovered by her parents or the servants. “For the rest of my days.”

Epilogue

Two months later

* * *

It was a lovely wedding breakfast, albeit a smaller event than one might expect at the home of the Earl of Doncaster. The bridegroom’s parents were in attendance, looking very proper and respectable for a pair of actors. The bridegroom’s grandparents were there as well, vastly more austere but polite enough when spoken to.