Sins Of A Duke Part 26

"St. Paul's," her father repeated reverently. "Why not Westminster?"

Sebastian's face stilled. "My first marriage took place at Westminster," he said tightly, the first real emotion she'd heard from him all morning touching his voice. "This one will be at St. Paul's, or not at all. I will not negotiate that point."

"St. Paul's will be lovely," Josefina said firmly, then faced her father. "And a month between the engagement and the wedding seems very short as it is. I don't want to give the appearance that we're rus.h.i.+ng anything."

At Sebastian's sideways glance she had to fight off a blush. After the first time she'd refused to let him leave her as he'd climaxed, it had seemed pointless for him to do so the other four times. Obviously she-they-were tempting fate, but after this disaster with her father she would be parting company from his troupe, anyway. And she would end up ostracized from Society regardless.

"Yes, you're right, of course," the rey agreed with clear reluctance. "I suppose I can delay everyone's departures by an additional fortnight."

"I believe we are in agreement, then. I'll have my solicitor draw up the papers, and we can sign them this afternoon."

"Very good." Her father walked to the door. "As you two are now betrothed, I'll leave you alone for a moment to talk."

Her heart began pounding all over again at just the thought of spending another few moments in privacy with Sebastian. He gripped her fingers, squeezing them, and met her gaze for the briefest of seconds. Then to her surprise he let her go and walked after her father.

"We'll have time to talk later," he said. "If I'm to return by..." he consulted his pocket watch "...four o'clock, say, I have a great deal to do."

The rey stood aside as Melbourne pa.s.sed him, stopped in the foyer to collect his hat and gloves, and left the house. The warm parts of her chilled as the front door closed behind him. She shook herself, trying to be rid of the abrupt feeling of loneliness with which his departure had left her. He'd been trying to tell her something. What, she had no idea.

"A month before the wedding," her father grumbled. "I don't like it."

"A month is still pus.h.i.+ng the boundaries of propriety," she said. "He couldn't make it sooner than that. And neither could we."

"Yes, yes, I know. But it gives him too much time."

"Time for what?" she asked, keeping her voice as calm as she could. "To change his mind? He's putting the agreement in writing. Melbourne would never risk crying off after that."

"That's not what troubles me. He's up to something. My guess is that he means to have me give over all of the loan money to him for investment, at which time he'll seize the funds and attempt to expose me." He smiled. "Well, I have a surprise for him. He's not getting a single penny."

Oh, dear. "If he's trying to trap you, he'll be suspicious if you don't go along with his plans."

Her father stroked his moustache. "Yes, he will be. Excuse me, Josefina. I have a few things to mull over."

"Of course, Father."

She sank into a chair as he left the room. A disaster. It was all a disaster, and she was directly in the middle of it. Sebastian suspected her father, her father suspected Sebastian, and each thought she was on his side. "d.a.m.nation," she muttered under her breath.

If she had someone to talk to, someone with whom she could reason things through, this would have been so much easier. But she knew of no one in whom she could confide. The only women she'd begun to consider friends were Sebastian's sisters, and they would be on his side. Her mother, or Conchita, even, would both side with their own survival, which meant they would support her father. As for the men in her life, they were even more polarized.

Sebastian had warned her this would happen. The middle ground was fast disappearing, and she needed to choose a side. Legally, morally, the Duke of Melbourne held the high ground. Siding with her father, though, gave her two things-a chance at escape from prosecution, and something that had become absurdly important over the past day: marriage to Sebastian.

Her happiness weighed against the safety of several hundred naive, gullible settlers. It hardly seemed fair. It wasn't fair. And yet she supposed she truly only had herself to blame for being in the position of having to choose.

Josefina drew in a ragged, shaking breath, then headed upstairs to change into something more appropriate for making social calls. Safety was the most she could hope for, because people who'd made the choices that she had didn't get to ask for or expect more. Even if that one thing she truly, deeply, stupidly wanted was love.

As mercenary as she'd tried to be, this argument with herself was obviously because she'd reached her limit. And for G.o.d's sake, she needed to do the right thing. Finally.

The largest problem would be getting away from the house without arousing anyone's suspicions. For a few moments she paced back and forth in her bedchamber, wis.h.i.+ng that Sebastian would climb back in through the window. Be practical, she ordered herself. She had no time for missish daydreams.

Very well. Her hands shook as she pulled paper, pen, and ink from her writing desk. Mental resolve was one thing, she supposed; physical fort.i.tude was another altogether.

Now for the escape. "Dearest Caroline," she wrote, muttering the words as she put them to paper.

Thank you again for asking me to luncheon today. Given the chaos of this morning and what will follow this afternoon, an hour or two of calm and quiet will be much appreciated.

My only request is that you come by for me at noon rather than one o'clock, as I shall need this afternoon free. I look forward to chatting with you again. Yours in grat.i.tude, Josefina, Princess of Costa Hab.i.+.c.huela.

Folding the letter, she addressed it to Lady Caroline Griffin and summoned Grimm. "Please see that this is delivered to Lady Caroline right away," she instructed the butler, "and ask whoever takes it to wait for a reply."

"I'll see to it immediately, Your Highness."

She shut her door, then quietly and carefully opened it again when she heard the butler's footsteps return downstairs. A moment later he rapped on a door. "It's Grimm, Your Majesty," he said, apparently in response to a query. "You wanted to review all outgoing correspondence."

Josefina closed the door again, sagging back against the solid barrier. Being part of a family comprised of frauds and tricksters did have its benefits. At least it made her cautious. She probably should have gone directly to Eleanor, but her father would think the same thing. Hopefully sending a letter to a Griffin sister-in-law would be less suspicious than directing it to Sebastian or one of his immediate siblings.

Now all she could do was wait and see if she received an answer other than bafflement or refusal, and if Lady Caroline's coach arrived at noon to allow her to flee the house with her news-that her father knew he was being plotted against. Then she would pray both that Sebastian had a secondary plan, and that she wasn't making the last and greatest mistake of her life in trusting him.

Chapter 19.

"T en thousand pounds, Your Grace?" his finance man stumbled. "Of course you have that amount at your discretion, but I'm not certain any of us would wish to be transporting that sum of ready cash through the streets of London."

Sebastian finished writing out his instructions to Sir Henry Sparks, folded and sealed the missive, and handed it to the younger man. "I need to have this money to hand, Rivers," he said curtly. "Take Tom and Green with you; arm them if you'd like. But get it back here."

Rivers stood, clearing his throat as he tucked the note into his breast pocket. "I shall see to it at once, Your Grace."

Pulling another piece of paper from his office desk, Sebastian glanced up. "Thank you."

Rivers backed out the office door. "Yes, Your Grace."

Sebastian scowled at the blank page before him. He could excuse Rivers's nerves; most of his business dealings were done by note rather than by a cash exchange. But he didn't want to give Stephen Embry any excuse to balk. If the plan worked as he hoped, the rey would hand the cash back, along with any other funds at his disposal, for a quick, profitable investment.

Some of the half dozen solicitors he employed would be arriving momentarily, and then would be the difficult part-setting out in writing something that would incriminate Embry without appearing to do so, keep Josefina out of any legal entanglements, and allow him to maneuver without being implicated in any wrongdoing.

He wrote out those points. As he penned Josefina's name, he paused. If the world were a perfect place, where would he stand in regard to her? Sebastian sat back in his comfortable leather chair. If the world were a perfect place, Charlotte wouldn't have wasted away before his eyes and died after just under four years of marriage. Obviously he couldn't pin any of his hopes on perfection. But if Josefina had been what she claimed, if her father had for a moment told the truth...

Sebastian closed his eyes for a half dozen heartbeats, then went back to his list. Valentine had said the Griffin family could withstand a scandal. The difficulty was that Josefina was at least three scandals all wrapped into one hard-headed, quick-tempered, tale-spouting minx who twisted him into such knots he couldn't tell down from up. And he loved her because of that.

His breath caught. Christ. Sebastian shoved to his feet. Love was not a word he used lightly, even in thought. And he could easily admit that he frequently found Josefina and her lack of candor annoying beyond bearing. But she matched him. She stood up to him. She challenged him. And even with the chaos that accompanied her-or perhaps because of it-she made him feel...alive. Half insane, but alive.

Someone rapped at his door. "Enter," he said.

He expected the solicitors, but it was his sister-in-law who stepped into the room. "Sebastian, I need to speak with you."

"Caroline? We'll all be meeting tonight. Can it wait until-"

"I just received this," she interrupted, holding out a piece of paper.

Lifting an eyebrow, he took it from her fingers and unfolded it. After he read it, his eyes snapped up to hers again. "You asked her to luncheon today?"

"No, I didn't. In fact, I was on my way out the door to go shopping with Anne and Joanna when this arrived, along with a footman who'd been instructed to wait for an answer."

His mind began spinning. So Josefina had asked to meet with a member of his family before the afternoon's meeting. And in the company of a married female acquaintance she wouldn't require her maid as a chaperone. "How did you respond?"

"I said my sisters and I would be there at noon as she requested."

"Your sisters and-"

"The three of us were getting into the carriage when the footman arrived. I didn't know what else I could say without giving Joanna a reason to throw a tantrum. She's been livid that I know a princess and haven't introduced her, as it is." Zachary's wife frowned. "I a.s.sume this is about something she couldn't say to you during your meeting with her father this morning."

"That would be my guess, as well."

"Then do you wish me to bring her here?"

That would be the most convenient route, but if Josefina had resorted to sending covert communications, then he had to wonder whether someone might be following her. He'd already declined a moment of badly wanted privacy with her to keep her father from suspecting that she might have changed sides. Sebastian glanced at his pocket watch. Nearly noon. "Take her back to your home," he said slowly. "Is Zach there?"

"Yes. He's going over some of the cattle breeding reports with Papa."

"Good. Keep him there. I'll head over to speak with him. Can you get me a few moments alone with Josefina without everyone realizing?"

"I believe so." She pulled the door open again. "Do you trust her, Sebastian?"

He gave a brief smile. "That is a very good question. Thank you, Caro, for coming to me with this."

She smiled back at him. "None of us can predict where the heart will lead," she said. "I'm glad you realized that about Zachary and me. And I hope...Well, I'll leave it at that for now."

Stepping forward, he kissed her swiftly on the cheek. "Just try to keep Joanna away from Josefina. We don't need a bout of female fisticuffs."

With an amused nod, Caroline slipped out the door and back to the foyer, where he could hear Joanna complaining about being denied an audience with the duke, and Anne noting that she should be grateful. What had happened? When he'd seen Josefina earlier he hadn't sensed any new urgency about her, and certainly not anything that would cause her to set this particular play into motion.

He shoved the paper back into its drawer. A luncheon, he supposed, could be exactly that. Caroline had good instincts, however, and today he completely agreed with them. Something was afoot, and it centered around Josefina. As usual. Sebastian gave a quick, fond smile.

Trotting upstairs to change his coat, he paused to take the latest book a.s.signed to him by Zachary from his bed stand. A History of c.u.mberland Cattle had served him well in a.s.sisting him to sleep, and with its t.i.tle in large, gold print it also served as his excuse for calling on his brother.

As he reached the foot of the stairs, Stanton was pulling open the front door to admit Misters Harkley, Swenk, and Challington, his solicitors. d.a.m.nation. "Gentlemen," he said, taking his gloves and hat from the butler as he spoke, "I have two tasks for you, both of which need to be completed by four o'clock. The second one we will discuss when I return, but the first is for you to draw up an agreement between myself and Stephen Embry, the rey of Costa Hab.i.+.c.huela, wherein I will make him an annual payment of ten thousand pounds."

Harkley, the most senior of the three, nodded. "We will begin at once, Your Grace. May I ask what this sum is paying for?"

"For Embry's daughter. My wife-to-be. Josefina Katarina Embry."

The gasps of the stolid, jaded trio made him smile as he left the house for the stable. If his marriage shocked those three, he could only imagine what must be going through Mayfair today. And even that would be nothing compared with the ton's reaction when they discovered that her father was a thief and that the Duke of Melbourne was marrying someone he'd begun to realize was without a n.o.ble bloodline. Common, they would say, though he strongly disagreed. There was absolutely nothing common about Josefina Embry.

Unless he could come up with another way around this, the scandal would be monumental. No one would dare give either of them the cut direct, but there would be gatherings where invitations failed to arrive, and luncheons where the old wags would gossip and shake their heads. It would be worse for her, but better than if she remained in England unmarried.

So the question wasn't so much whether he had the courage to raise a tempest, but whether Josefina had the courage to ride one out. And whether letting her vanish back across the Atlantic might actually be better for her than any protection he could offer.

"Papa!"

One of the grooms brought Merlin out of the stable, but Sebastian turned around at the sound of Peep's voice. He frowned as he saw the direction she came from, with Mrs. Beacham nowhere in sight behind her. "Did you climb through the library windows again?"

"It was an emergency," she panted, grabbing his hand. "And Mrs. B dared me."

"What is it, then?"

"Not here, for heaven's sake." She tugged on his hand, pulling him away from the amused stableboys.

"Very well, Peep," he said when they had nearly reached the house again. Mrs. Beacham came hurrying around the corner, skirts flying in the breeze, but he waved her back. "I only have a moment."

"Mary Haley told me when we went riding this morning that when you marry Princess Josefina we have to leave England and live in Costa Hab.i.+.c.huela. I don't want to go." Her gray eyes swam with tears.

He squatted down, and she flung herself into his arms. "I thought you wanted to travel," he said, removing his handkerchief and handing it to her.

"I do," she sniffed, "but Costa Hab.i.+.c.huela is very far from our friends and family."

Especially since it didn't even exist. "We're not leaving England, sweetling."

She lifted her head. "You're not marrying Josefina now? You said everything might change."

"Nothing's changed." He hesitated. "You didn't mention that bit to Mary, did you?"

"Of course not. She's a terrible gossip."

"Good. And I am planning on marrying Princess Josefina. Does that trouble you?"

Peep shook her dark curls. "Not as long as we don't have to leave here."

"We don't. I promise."

"Very well. Because I've been thinking that when I do travel to Africa and to China, it would be nice if you had someone here to keep you company while I'm gone."

He hugged her again. "That is very thoughtful of you."

"Yes, I know."

Stifling a smile, he straightened. "Then go back to the house and apologize to Mrs. Beacham for fleeing. And no more climbing through windows." Considering he'd done that very thing last night, he'd withhold any further punishment.

With Penelope appeased, his only concern was Josefina. And stopping a fraud, and keeping settlers from dying. Sebastian sighed as he returned to Merlin and swung into the saddle. If he could figure out what to do with her, the rest would be easy.

After twenty minutes in Lady Caroline's home, Josefina began to question whether she'd gone to the correct Griffin family member for a.s.sistance. The coach had arrived at noon, but other than that Caroline gave no sign that she hadn't thought up the invitation all on her own. Her five hundred or so sisters and her mother certainly seemed to think this was a purely social occasion. That had been the reason she'd chosen Caroline rather than Eleanor, but good heavens.

"Your Highness," the unmarried of the twins, Joanna, she thought, was saying, "you must tell us how His Grace proposed to you. Was it romantic? Because I've been trying to attract his attention for two years, and nothing at all worked."