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Authors: Jo Beverley

BOOK: Skylark
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Talk became general, then Stephen asked Nicholas, “How’s Dare?”
“Coming along.”
“Fit for visitors?”
“For you, of course.” Nicholas glanced at Laura. “Lord Darius Debenham, a friend of ours who is still suffering the effects of a war wound.”
“All England talks of the miracle. And, of course, Lord Darius is one of the Rogues.”
Nicholas grinned. “Ah, you know all.”
“I’m sure I don’t, but I heard many schoolboy tales. Is there hope of full recovery?”
“Excellent hope, yes. I see lunch is ready. I’ll take Arabel upstairs and join you in a moment.”
At least he carried the child over for a mother’s kiss before taking her away, but as Laura went to the dining room with Stephen and their hostess she felt uncomfortable about the whole situation. It was none of her business, but she couldn’t help thinking that King Rogue indulged his daughter too much. As with letting Harry dictate to her, it would prove disastrous in the end.
Chapter 18
Servants placed dishes on the table and then left. By the time Eleanor was finishing the serving of the soup, Nicholas joined them. “So, who’s going to dish up the story?” he asked.
Laura exchanged a look with Stephen. “You’re the one with the gift for words.”
He pulled a face at her, but then gave a succinct account that was over by the time the Delaneys cleared the soup plates and uncovered the next course.
“I can imagine your concern,” Eleanor said to Laura. “It must have been so hard to leave your son behind in these circumstances.”
Laura flinched from that reminder. “I’m sure Jack Gardeyne will not go to Merrymead, and my sister knows the dangers.”
She explained that, and Stephen said, “Excellent. Juliet always had a clever mind and quick wits.”
More so than herself? Laura wondered.
Nicholas ignored his pork. “Let’s look at that letter.”
Laura produced it, but Stephen said, “I don’t think even you can squeeze more out of it. The answers lie in Draycombe. I did confirm that the ship that went down, supposedly taking Henry Gardeyne to the deeps, was the
Mary Woodside
.”
“Well done!” Laura declared.
“And achieved in a couple of days on the road,” Nicholas said. “Brilliant as always.”
Stephen didn’t seem particularly pleased by the accolade.
“You don’t have a clue about Oscar Ris?” Nicholas asked. “Heaven knows there are strange names around the world, but it doesn’t fit with any nationality I know.” He passed the letter to Eleanor. “And how could he keep someone prisoner for ten years?”
“What if it were voluntary?” Eleanor suggested. “A flight from disgrace or scandal? Perhaps Henry’s father cast him off and it was made to look as if he’d died.”
Nicholas raised his brows. “I never knew you had such a gothic imagination, love. But if he wasn’t disinherited, why not rise from his watery grave once his father was dead? The key question I see is, Why
now
?”
Laura was making an attempt to eat. “We think this HG might be his son. Raised by Oscar Ris, but newly discovered to be legitimate.”
“Now that makes a fragment of sense,” Nicholas said. “Azir Al Farouk is entrusted with the task of bringing the child to England to claim his inheritance—perhaps because of his excellent command of English. But the villain has recognized a chance to make his fortune.”
“In league with Captain Dyer?” Eleanor suggested. “Could there be a band of ruffians involved?”
Stephen put down his knife and fork. “That’s what worries me. I don’t want to take Laura into danger.”
“Then you shouldn’t take her at all,” Nicholas said. “Whenever there’s villainy, there’s the possibility of danger. Desperate people will do desperate things.”
The words seemed to have a meaning that shadowed the room. Whatever that meaning was, they cleared Laura’s mind. She couldn’t send Stephen alone into danger.
“I want to go, and I won’t be in danger. I’ll simply be visiting a respectable seaside resort. I have no intention of skulking around in the dark or doing anything foolish.”
Stephen gave her a look. “I believe I’ve heard that before.”
She looked right back. “When we were children. You were right when you argued that any decisions are mine to make.”
Nicholas finally cut into his meat. “I think we should involve Captain Drake.”
“Oh, good idea,” Eleanor said.
Laura looked between them. “Whoever he is, no. We can’t involve any more people. Not when things might become illegal.”
“She’s right, Nick,” Stephen said. “Who the devil is Captain Drake, anyway?”
Laura recognized Nicholas’s smile as mischievous, which seemed horribly inappropriate. “He’s the smuggling master who controls the coast round about Draycombe.”
“Smuggling!” Laura gasped.
Stephen groaned. “Trust you to know the local criminals.”
“It wasn’t me. It was Con.” Nicholas glanced at Laura. “Con Somerford, Viscount Amleigh, briefly Earl of Wyvern. Have you heard of the affair?”
“He inherited the earldom earlier this year and then someone else claimed it. It’s being fought in the courts, isn’t it?”
“It’s being arranged amicably, but the stamping and sealing takes time. Crag Wyvern, seat of the Earl of Wyvern, is about three miles from Draycombe.”
“But how does Con connect to the smuggler, Captain Drake?” Stephen asked.
Nicholas shared a look with his wife. “He’s going to be upset with me.”
“You always knew that,” Eleanor replied.
Stephen put down his cutlery. “You’ve been up to something illegal again.”
It was said levelly, but Laura tensed. Stephen was angry? Because of illegalities? Did he try to keep his irresponsible friends in line? If so, why had he involved them in her serious affairs?
“Not I,” Nicholas protested.
“But as usual, you protected me from any dirt.”
“Stephen,” said Nicholas, suddenly serious, “you’re the Rogues’ secret weapon within the legal and political system. We can’t have you tainted.”
“For pity’s sake—”
Eleanor stopped Stephen with a raised hand. “Before you two have a Roguish fight, you’re going to have to decide how much to tell Laura. Private matters in public are not polite.”
“I’ve had my knuckles rapped.” Nicholas turned to Laura. “My apologies. Since you’ve told us your secrets, I have no problem with telling you ours, but I need your assurance that you will keep them in confidence.”
“Illegal matters? I’m not sure. If I were to find them wrong, wicked . . . I’m not sure.”
“Excellent. Honor should rule. How strongly do you feel about smuggling?”
“Not strongly at all. The taxes are iniquitous.”
“Then you should have no difficulty. I’ve been wondering how Al Farouk and HG arrived in England, you see. There are formalities at official entry points. My guess is that they came ashore on a smuggling boat. If it was anywhere near Draycombe, Captain Drake will know all about that.”
“I see, but can we get the information without telling him why?”
“Possibly, but I think we should involve him more. It’s his business to be informed about any unusual people visiting his territory. In addition, he commands most of the people along that stretch of coast and can even summon an army if required. If Farouk is part of a vicious gang, Captain Drake can keep you and Stephen safe.”
A noise came from Stephen that sounded like a stifled protest.
Nicholas looked at him. “Steve, you know I don’t approve of courting danger. It comes on its own easily enough.”
“Not to me.”
“Now that,” his friend said, “is idiotic. As well ask to break a bone.”
Laura noted that Eleanor looked resigned, as if this was an old battle. The Rogues tried to keep Stephen out of dangerous activities because he was more useful to them as a sober, respectable citizen? Clearly Stephen objected.
How much danger could a group of English gentlemen get into in the normal run of things?
Stephen turned to her. “It appears that this Captain Drake might be of use, though I share your concerns. He is a criminal, after all.”
Nicholas said, “And before I say more, I must have your word that you will keep this secret. I promise there are no worse crimes to reveal.”
After a moment, Laura said, “Very well. You have my word.”
“Captain Drake is also David Kerslake-Somerford, soon to be Earl of Wyvern.”
Laura knew her jaw had dropped.
Stephen exclaimed, “Good Lord!” But then he said, “Yes, I am upset. I assume the Rogues had a part in the rearrangement of the earldom and all know about this but me.”
“No. Con knows, of course. It was his affair—”
“And his wife is Kerslake’s sister! I was at the wedding. I met the man. He’s a gentleman.”
“It’s a long and complex story.”
“When is it not?”
“And not surprising if no one wanted to burden your conscience with it unnecessarily, Steve.”
Stephen went silent, but Laura saw that he took this matter of being protected hard. She remembered when she’d worried that she was dragging him into danger. No wonder he’d turned frosty.
Nicholas said, “Miles, Francis, Lee, and Luce are as much in the dark as you, I promise. And note, I
have
told you now that there’s a purpose.”
There was apology there, but the cool voice of command, too. Laura looked down at her plate, wondering why nothing could be simple anymore. She’d thought the Rogues were a close-knit, endlessly supportive group. She’d thought the same of her family, but in this extreme, she’d not confided in them.
“Let’s return to Laura’s problem,” Stephen said. “So, Captain Drake might know when Farouk arrived, and what companions he brought. Perhaps even their whereabouts. You’re right. That will be useful. I’m not sure, however, about making open contact. Smugglers have a rough way of keeping their secrets.”
“You and Laura have agreed to keep the secrets, and David is a Rogue by association now.”
“Ah, is he?”
“Too useful to be ignored.”
“And,” said Eleanor dryly, “now owner of a truly astonishing collection of strange books and artifacts.”
“Are you ascribing base motives to me, my love?”
She grinned. “Just practical ones.” She looked at Laura. “I know David quite well now, and he can be trusted. Because of his responsibilities he cannot always act legally, but he will always act honorably. Once he understands this situation, I’m sure he will feel about it just as you do, and he’s perfectly placed to rescue HG and deal with trouble.”
Laura felt a strange pang of disappointment, as if a daring adventure had been snatched from her, and she understood Stephen’s mood. How silly. Safety and a quick resolution were what they needed.
“Then I agree. How will it be managed?”
“I’ll send a discreet note,” Nicholas said, “asking him to contact you at the Compass.”
The sonorous clock struck one.
Laura pushed back slightly from the table, ashamed of how little she’d eaten, but eager to be off. “We’ve done all we can here, I think.”
She realized that it sounded rude, but with talk of armed gangs and smugglers, she couldn’t linger. Not when there was a child at risk.
Everyone stood, but Stephen said, “There is one thing. We can’t risk Laura’s reputation. If she were to meet anyone she knows, it would be disastrous. I was hoping for a disguise.”
Nicholas turned to eye her. “As what?”
“An older, sickly cousin.”
Humor sparked in Nicholas’s eyes. “A pity to cloud such beauty, but I think it can be done.”
Chapter 19
Not long afterward, Laura looked in the mirror, still disconcerted by her appearance. She knew she’d need something, but she hadn’t imagined a change as thorough as this.
Nicholas had produced a faded blond wig as if it were the kind of thing every house contained. The wiry curls bubbled excessively around her face, which was rendered sallow with a tinted cream. A darker cream around her eyes made her look dismally unwell. As the coup de grace, a large mole now squatted on the edge of her upper lip. She’d heard such marks called “beauty spots” but there was nothing beautiful about this one. There were even a few hairs sticking out of it.
She’d lived with her beauty for so long that it was unsettling to have it gone. She could tell, however, that anyone meeting her would see only mousy curls, ill health, and mole.
She’d thought her mourning clothes dull enough, but Nicholas had decreed they were too stylish. She and Eleanor were stripping off some trimming, but Laura thought half the work had already been done when she’d abandoned her corset.
They’d realized that she couldn’t use a maid to help her undress, because there was no way to make her body fit her face and hair. Eleanor had lent her a kind of bodice that hooked up the front. It was decent, Laura supposed, but didn’t raise and support the breasts as she was used to.
A glance at her hostess suggested she was wearing such a garment herself. Comfortable, Laura granted, but . . . well, it was a good thing Eleanor’s dress made no attempt at fashion.
All in the cause,
she told herself, and sat to rip off a belt of ruched gray silk. “It’s as well I’ll soon be out of mourning. I’ll be able to give these to my maid, except that I doubt she’ll want them.”
“They’ll bring her a little in the secondhand shops.” Eleanor was unpicking a white lace ruffle from around a neckline. She glanced up with a twinkle in her eye. “So wickedly frivolous, ruffles.”
“And I thought I’d been dressing so plainly.”
“You’re used to high fashion. I was green with envy of the gown you wore at the Arden wedding. Low in the back with crisscross ribbons. Rubies, and red feathers swirling through your hair.”
Laura was surprised to feel embarrassed. “I don’t remember meeting you, I’m afraid.”

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