Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

T hey arrived at Latimer House, the palatial mansion owned by Diana’s older brother, just as the duke was disembarking from his own carriage.

He took one look at his sister’s pale face and stormed over to the landau. “Diana? What’s wrong? What the hell happened?”

They frantically related the story, all four of them talking at once.

No amount of insistence on Lady Griselda’s part could shake the duke’s conviction that the villains had been after his sister.

“Get Diana inside,” he snapped. “I will escort Lady Lucy and Lady Isabella back to Astley House.”

Diana rolled her eyes before turning to her friends. “I’ll see you tonight at the Waldegrave ball.”

“We will not be attending the Waldegrave ball!” her brother snapped. “You will not be setting a foot outside the house until this threat has been eliminated.”

“Marcus!” Diana growled. “You are being entirely unreasonable. As usual!”

The duke pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am not going to argue with you about this. When it comes to your safety, we will take no chances. Now get inside the house so I can see your friends safely home.”

Diana glared mulishly at her brother but allowed the family butler, Ellery, to shepherd her inside.

Once they arrived at Astley House, the duke apologized to Izzie and Lucy’s mother. “I am terribly sorry that their proximity to Diana has placed the twins in the crossfire, as it were. Now that my father is dead, I had hoped that the dark cloud that has been hanging over my family would dissipate.” He made a bleak sound. “Now I see that is not the case.”

“Please,” their mother said, “there is no need to apologize. Thank goodness that Lady Griselda is, well, Lady Griselda.”

“Thank goodness indeed,” the duke said.

“Do you think it was a kidnapping attempt, then?” Lady Cheltenham asked.

“I have very little information at this time. I shall hire a Runner to look into it just as soon as I find out what’s become of my footmen. But that seems like the most likely motive, yes.”

“We won’t keep you,” their mother said. “Please give our best wishes to Lady Diana and our thanks to your aunt.”

“I will,” the duke said.

Their mother called for tea, saying it would be just the thing to restore them to rights. Although the servants were flitting about, packing and making ready for the family to return to their country seat, Harrington Hall, the following morning, the house was quiet by the Astley family’s usual standards. Their father had already departed for Gloucestershire that morning. Izzie’s eldest brother, Edward, and his wife, Elissa, were out, probably visiting some museum or library, as there was nothing the pair of classicists liked better than crumbling bits of parchment more than a thousand years old.

Her second-oldest brother, Harrington, had recently purchased a lieutenant’s commission in the 95 th Rifles and would remain with his regiment rather than journey home with the family. Izzie was going to miss him terribly. She and Harrington were the black sheep of the family; now, she supposed she would become the sole target for her father’s improving lectures.

Izzie and Lucy also had two older sisters, Anne and Caro, but they were both married and had households of their own, and neither happened to be visiting this afternoon. And, of course, her youngest brother, Freddie, was away at Eton.

So, it was just Lucy, Izzie, and Lady Cheltenham who settled around the tea table. “Gracious, girls,” their mother said as Lucy poured them each a cup, “this was an eventful afternoon even by Izzie’s standards.”

Izzie found herself feeling uncommonly taciturn and took her time chewing a lemon biscuit.

Lucy finally said, “You know, Mama, Lady Griselda was convinced that it wasn’t Diana those men were after. She said they were after Izzie.”

Her mother froze, her cup halfway to her mouth. It took a moment for her to regain her composure. “And what do you girls think?”

Izzie’s tongue felt thick in her mouth. She wanted Lady Griselda to be wrong. Not that she wanted Diana to be those men’s true target.

But she found herself clinging to the hope that it had been a random act of street crime, a group of cutpurses who had noticed their fancy carriage and assumed they would have something worth stealing. That she had not been a target in the literal sense.

That it was unlikely to happen again.

“It’s difficult to say,” Lucy said in answer to their mother’s question. “Everything happened so fast.”

Her mother’s eyes were sympathetic. “Izzie, there’s no reason these men would have for attacking you. Is there, darling?”

Izzie choked on her biscuit. Suddenly, the words she had overheard in the dark walks echoed through her head.

How soon can you deliver the guns?

The army won’t even miss such a trifling amount.

I know who those guns are intended for.

You’re in too deep.

If those men had spotted her, there was a very good reason someone might now want to kill her.

But if she were to tell her mother that, she would have to tell her the truth. That she hadn’t lost her way last night. That she hadn’t been delayed due to her hair being snarled in a tree.

That, like Pandora, she had been unable to tamp down her curiosity, and now she desperately wished she could force those secrets she had never wanted to hear back inside the box.

And after all, Lucy had a point. Everything had happened very quickly.

Maybe it really had been a gang of cutpurses.

“Nothing comes to mind,” she lied, setting her cup down upon its saucer. “I am feeling shaken, though. If it’s all right, I’d like to lie down.”

“Of course, darling,” her mother said.

Izzie went upstairs. Her maid helped her loosen her gown, and she lay down on the bed.

But sleep did not come.