Chapter Two #2
Florence dared not breathe until they were out of sight. “Betrothed? Aubrey, have you lost your marbles?”
“The title is Weymouth now,” he reminded her. “But all right, call me Aubrey if you prefer, since this is what everyone has called me for most of my life. Or you could call me Trajan, since it is my given name. Better yet, call me my dearest or my heart’s delight.”
“That is not funny. Now everyone is going to think we are getting married.”
“Well, it will upend that betting book taken out on me at White’s.”
Florence pursed her lips and frowned. “A betting book? Why are they betting on you?”
“You really are socially unaware, aren’t you? Have you not been reading the London gossip rags? They are placing wagers on me because I am now a duke. Unmarried. Supposedly rakish. And I have a touch of silver at the temples.”
“What? Does this qualify you as a Silver Duke?”
“Apparently so. This is what they are calling me now. You gave me those silver hairs last year,” he teased. “I hadn’t a single one until I met you.”
“I do have that effect on people,” she said with a gentle smile. “But you are barely in your thirties. Aren’t you a little young to be considered a Silver Duke?”
He shrugged. “I thought so, but that betting book was opened on me anyway. They did the same to the Duke of Durham last year, as you well know, and he was nowhere near forty years old either. It is shocking how they have lowered their standards. Seems any unmarried duke with a touch of silver in his hair now qualifies.”
“Yours is hardly noticeable.” She lightly touched his temples, running a gentle hand through his hair. “I suppose it is because the silver is so easily hidden among your golden strands.”
He shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter. Even one graying strand is enough to send the ton into a frenzy.”
Florence sighed. “What a mess I’ve caused. Now everyone will think they’ve lost their bets because of our pretended betrothal. It was a foolish thing for you to do, but I cannot admonish you for it. Your quick thinking probably saved my life.”
“So, I am forgiven?”
She nodded. “Yes, without question. You had no time to come up with a better plan, and I came up with nothing at all. Yours was quite convincing. Brilliant, actually. But now we have to figure out how to get ourselves out of it.”
“We will in time, but not yet. You are going to need the protection of my name for a little while longer.”
“I hope you are proved wrong,” she said with a sigh. “But I fear you may be right.”
“I am right,” he said with conviction. “You mustn’t let down your guard, Florence. I think Frampton was not completely convinced by our performance. He continued to eye you too intently. He still suspects you were the culprit peering through his windows, and this worries me.”
“Oh, that is not good.”
“Well, we instilled a small measure of doubt.”
“Enough to keep him from shooting us right here on the beach,” she said with little mirth, for those men had all been carrying rifles and would not have thought twice about discharging them into their bodies.
Aubrey rubbed a hand along the back of his neck and nodded. “I shudder to think what would have happened had he caught you alone in these woods.”
“He is scary, isn’t he? Do you think there is something more going on with him than a little extortion?”
“I don’t know.” He pursed his lips and pondered the question.
“But it is all the more reason to keep away from him. I mean it, Florence. You will end up dead if you poke that bear. More to the point, I have no intention of dying alongside you. All right? So, it is best you just drop the matter of retrieving those damaging letters. Has your friend paid you?”
“Only a retainer for my out-of-pocket expenses. I get the rest of the reward once the job is done.”
“Then give her back the advance,” he said with authority. “I will reimburse you for whatever you have spent. But this has to end now.”
He was right to be concerned, but was this not for her to decide?
And what if Frampton was plotting something really serious, such as the overthrow of the monarchy? Should this not be investigated and proof brought to the attention of the Home Office?
“Bloody hell, no!” he cried when she mentioned the possibility.
“But he might be a traitor.”
“I would not be surprised, but this is something to be investigated by the Home Office, not by you.”
“Then by you, perhaps?” She cast him a brilliant smile.
“You are quite talented at this sort of intrigue. Clever. Fast on your feet. You were magnificent in the way you tricked Frampton into revealing exactly where he wanted us to keep away. I was certain those letters were hidden in his house, and he has now confirmed it.”
Sunlight shimmered on his hair as he raked a hand through those splendid golden waves and eyed her warily. “You aren’t going to break into his home, Florence. I forbid it.”
“Would you consider doing it?”
He emitted a bark of laughter. “Are you mad? No!”
She cast him a stubborn look. “Then I will have to do it.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “You are mistaken if you believe I am going to allow you to risk your life over some stupid letters. Whose are they? You never told me who you are working for.”
“Nor will I tell you now,” she said, loath to defy him after he had certainly saved her life, but she cast him an impudent look and tipped her chin up. “The matter is sensitive and private.”
“Not if it is about to get you killed.” He took her by the hand once more and marched her up the beach stairs.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked as they climbed.
“Back to my house.”
When they reached the top step, he led her along an unshaded path away from the beach and woodlands.
“I suppose it is quite grand and beautiful,” she remarked, deciding to engage him in harmless chatter in the hope he might calm down. He was still angry with her.
Not that she blamed him.
He sighed and glanced at her. “It isn’t so much a house as a palace. It is disconcerting to rattle around on one’s own in a place of that size. But since we are now betrothed, I—”
“Fake betrothed. The arrangement is only temporary.”
“But it cannot look fake to anyone. For your own protection, we must be convincingly betrothed. So it should not raise disapproving eyebrows if you now move into my home.”
“Why would you want me anywhere near you?”
“Because I dare not leave my blushing bride-to-be on her own to run amok. Need I remind you that the next time Frampton catches you anywhere near his property, he will shoot you dead?”
“I do not need that gentle reminder.”
“Good. Our living arrangements will be respectable, of course. Who is your chaperone? You must have brought one along with you.”
“I did, but only because I would not have been given a room at any inn of good repute if they knew I was traveling alone. My maiden aunt, Hermia Newton, came with me.”
“She will join you here, of course. There’s plenty of space to accommodate you both. I have so many bedchambers, I can give each of you an entire wing and still have bedrooms left over for other guests.”
“Is it that enormous a house?”
He nodded. “But I think I need to rename it. Gull Hall simply does not suit.”
After several minutes, the massive chimney stacks of his home came into view. Florence tried to slip her hand out of his, but he insisted on keeping firm hold of her.
Did he think she was going to run away?
And did his plan to bring her here not have a dangerous flaw?
Why move her into his home that was so conveniently, and temptingly, located next door to Frampton?
Well, she supposed it was the easiest way for him to keep track of her movements.
By the angry look of him, he intended to trail after her like a bloodhound on the scent.
Obviously, he did not trust her to end this assignment. “Trajan…oh, may I call you that? Or should I call you Weymouth now?”
He nodded. “I haven’t quite wrapped my head around becoming the Duke of Weymouth yet. Not sure I am ready to be referred to as Weymouth. Nor am I Lord Aubrey anymore. Trajan will do nicely. Yes, I would like it if you called me by my given name. You earned that privilege after our intimate kiss.”
She cleared her throat. Yes, it was quite a kiss.
“Just how many chimney stacks does Gull Hall have?”
“At least a dozen. Do you see what I mean, Florence?” He pointed toward his imposing manor.
“Who can heat a house of this size in the winter? Calling this sixty-room monstrosity Gull Hall conjures the image of a cozy retreat near the water where nesting birds abound, not a residence fit for a king and his royal entourage.”
“Does your family have any plans to join you here?”
“Not this year. Probably never,” he said, suddenly turning pensive.
“I might write to my mother and ask her to visit while you are here with me. I think she is in London, although she might be with my sister, Persephone, and her husband, the Marquess of Rathburne. He’s also fairly new to his title, and was known as the Earl of Hawley until last year.
But now he is the marquess and will need Persephone’s support more than ever because he’s a little dim in the brains department.
Do not comment on my sister’s name or mine.
Our parents were obviously drunk when they named us. ”
“Trajan and Persephone? I rather like both. They are distinctive and distinguished. Would Persephone and her husband consider visiting you?”
He grunted. “No, they are comfortably settled in Somerset and busily working on producing heirs. Rathburne’s a bit of a dolt.
As I said, he’s a little light in the brains department.
But Persephone is quick-witted enough for both of them.
I hope their offspring inherit her brains.
Surprisingly, theirs seems to have turned into a happy marriage. ”