Chapter Nineteen #2
“A wise decision,” Althorpe said. “This is a task better left to agents of the Home Office. They will gather and destroy whatever else he has.”
She wasn’t sure if the information on others would be destroyed or used for Althorpe’s gain.
But he had the trust of the entire royal family, which said a lot about his honor and intelligence, because many in the family despised each other and would not trust another’s ally.
Althorpe seemed inclined to work for the good of England rather than for his own personal gain.
But what did she know? She hoped that he wielded his power far more wisely than Frampton ever had.
“Frampton worked his way up to his position of authority by threats and extortion,” Althorpe went on to explain, as though reading her expressions that were much too transparent.
“But he overstepped all bounds when he killed one of our Home Office agents last month. Well, we suspected he was the one who gave the order, but we did not have the direct evidence to prove it. And now it appears he tried to kill you, too. This must be beyond what even a loyal wife would support.”
“It is,” Florence assured him. “Lady Frampton will cooperate. I am certain she will. Her life is as much in danger as any of your agents. She will need the protection of the Home Office against her husband’s retribution.”
“She will have it,” Althorpe replied.
Florence was relieved her friend would be safe. And even more relieved that the Home Office would now come down on Frampton and take away his claws.
With matters resolved and their tea finished, the princess dismissed them.
Florence was never more relieved to be sent packing. They returned to the Weymouth townhouse, and she was too drained to say much on their ride home. Nor did Trajan appear to want to talk as his barouche made its way through the bustling London streets.
To their surprise, Durham, Fiona, Bromleigh, and Ramsdale awaited them in Trajan’s study.
“Thank goodness!” Fiona cried, rushing forward to greet Florence. “Tell us everything!”
Florence hugged her. “I’ll let my husband tell you, for he understood the nuances of our royal meeting. Much of it went over my head.”
“It was extraordinary,” Trajan admitted, settling Florence in one of the plump leather chairs beside the hearth and then taking a seat beside her on the fat, padded arm of it. “But we are not at liberty to tell you who was in attendance along with the princess.”
Florence looked up at him. “You peeked at those letters, didn’t you? You knew who had written them. This is why you were not surprised when you saw him beside the princess.”
“Yes, and I’m glad he was there.”
“You aren’t referring to Althorpe by any chance, are you?” Fiona asked.
Florence groaned. “Why did you mention him?”
Fiona gasped. “Oh my goodness! It was him!”
Trajan slapped a hand to his forehead and muttered an oath. “You cannot repeat this to anyone, Fiona. Nor can any of you. How in blazes did you know?”
“It is an open secret,” Fiona said. “Everyone is aware he was Lady Simmons’s first love. They wanted to marry, but her family thought he was a man of little merit at the time. He proved them wrong, didn’t he?”
“I’ll say,” Bromleigh said with a snort.
Fiona nodded. “But sadly, to what purpose? By the time he’d risen to sufficient consequence, she had married Lord Simmons, who then inherited an earldom, and she became a countess. To divorce an earl and marry her true love would have ruined her and Althorpe.”
“They chose power and ton acceptance over love,” Florence remarked. “That is sad.”
“But practical,” Ramsdale noted. “Such choices are not easy ones to make. Would their love hold up if they were cast out and Althorpe lost all his power?”
Trajan went on to relate the rest of what was said.
When he finished, all the dukes were gaping at him.
Durham shook his head and laughed. “Althorpe actually said he was indebted to you?”
Trajan nodded.
Ramsdale whistled. “You have made a powerful ally. Rest assured, we will keep everything you have told us in strictest confidence. That man will cut us all off at the knees if word of those letters or his presence at your afternoon meeting with the princess ever gets out.”
Florence nodded. “So, we are all in agreement? Not another mention of Althorpe, Lady Simmons, or those letters.”
They all vowed to maintain their silence to the grave.
It was almost suppertime now, so she and Trajan invited their friends to stay.
Fiona answered for all of them. “Oh, no. It is your wedding day, and time for us to leave you lovebirds to yourselves.”
Durham winked at his wife. “But first we are stopping at White’s, because I intend to collect my winnings. I think I was the only one who wagered Weymouth would marry you, and the odds were astronomical. I’m about to reap a fortune.”
“Which we are going to give to charity,” Fiona said as she dragged him out the door.
Bromleigh and Ramsdale bade them a good evening and followed their friends. “Let’s have supper at the Carlton Hotel,” Bromleigh said, referring to one of London’s finest establishments. “Durham’s treating.”
Florence was relieved to finally have time alone with Trajan. She was exhausted and looked forward to sleeping in a real bed tonight. Hopefully Trajan’s bed.
Yes, of course it would be. This was their wedding night. Trajan was not going to leave her alone tonight.
They had made the trip from Weymouth to London in record speed, been jostled night and day, unable to close their eyes for more than a few minutes at a time while riding inside a hired carriage with leather seat benches that had retained the sweat and pungent odors of prior passengers.
Her earlier bath with fragrant oils and scented soap had fully expunged the offensive odors from her body, thankfully.
Her anticipation of her wedding night had given her a second wind. She was not going to miss a moment by falling asleep.
Trajan requested their supper be served in his bedchamber. “Do you mind?” he asked her.
“No, it’s practical. A quick meal and then bed. I long for it.”
He laughed. “So do I, although we are thinking of the bed for different reasons. You wish to sleep, and I wish to keep you awake and howling with pleasure.”
“Trajan! Hush. What will the staff think if they hear you?”
“That I love my wife and wish to have her in my arms.”
She smiled, even though she was embarrassed and her face was in flames because of his remark.
He had given her a taste of pleasure at the inn at Bournemouth, so she knew he could elicit those howls from her.
Well, they were mostly moans and purrs.
The real question was, could she elicit those howls from him?