Chapter 33

Lewis offered to act as another guard outside the guest bedchambers while everyone changed for dinner. Rolland and Marcus had slipped away to change first, after deciding never to leave their guests completely unattended by one of them. His parents had informed them that they'd rested sufficiently and felt they could brave dinner with the others. It would be good for them to leave their rooms, but somehow Rolland still felt like he'd failed them. He and his friends had meant to lull their guests into a sense of security, but the reverse had happened. If he had more concrete answers for his father, he would feel a little better.

With time to kill and nervous energy preventing him from resting, he left Lewis with the two footmen to guard his father and ventured down to the library in search of Marcus. Sure enough, he was seated at his desk by the back window, twisting a short curl just above his ear, deep in thought.

"You look exhausted," Rolland said.

"I tried to sleep for a minute, but I couldn't stop going over everything."

Rolland pulled the door shut behind him. "I know how you feel." He took the empty chair beside Marcus's desk and sank into it. "Go ahead and say it out loud so it'll stop circling in your head."

"If only doing so would produce what I want."

Rolland shrugged. "You never know. You were watching everyone today. What did you observe?"

Marcus sighed. "Mr. Haversham would've left this morning, if not for his family's excitement for the ball. His concern is only for his family. Since his daughter has her heart set on marrying the marquess my wife invited to our little country dance, he's chosen to stay."

Rolland nodded. "Mr. Haversham has always been the lowest on our suspect list, next to Mr. Stewart. He has a hand in something, but I don't think it's murder. What is your take on Mr. Hawke?"

"He either assuages his nerves through eating or was nonplussed by the events of last night. He showed the least signs of discomposure, which makes him the most suspicious to me."

"His manners are casual—sometimes too casual."

Marcus agreed. "The guilty are either overconfident or tormented by what they've done. There are those who fluctuate between the two, but there's a smaller third group whose members seem to be without conscience entirely."

Rolland reached back and attempted to rub his tight neck through his thick, starched collar and cravat. "What of Mr. Stewart?"

"Agitated. He understands the politics at hand possibly better than anyone. His reactions seemed to be normal for the situation."

Interesting. Marcus had a unique way of looking at things, and it never failed to fascinate Rolland. "Lord Vernon?"

Marcus sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Aggressive in his speech and posture. The man's temper precedes him, but so does his intelligence."

"Lady Glass said he claimed to know the reason behind our house party. I doubt he's the only one."

Marcus drummed his hand on his desk. "We invited too many cunning guests. This was far easier in my mind than it's turned out to be. It seems foolish we ever thought to catch our man within the first few days."

Rolland wouldn't say the party was doomed from the beginning. No good would come from that. "Another mind will help. Soon we'll have the information Cadogen has gathered and know whether Lord Vernon is our man."

Marcus grimaced. "I don't know what's keeping him, but I hope he hurries. I try not to wonder whether Lord Vernon left men in place to protect his secrets, because I must believe Cadogen is safe."

"I refuse to let my mind go there either. It's Cadogen, after all. Any news on tracking the funds beyond the banks from Haversham and Hawke yet?"

"It could be weeks yet before we receive overseas communication, and we might not have that kind of time."

Rolland set a hand on the desk and leaned in to it. "I would wager Hawke or Vernon is our man. They hold the most red flags, and according to the ladies, both speak French. We don't have enough evidence to arrest either one, but we can assign extra eyes on them." He sighed. "In the meantime, that leaves us one last guest to discuss tonight."

"Miss Yearsley? Yes, she's an interesting one. She repeatedly rubbed her right temple in conversation throughout the entire day. While she could be a coconspirator, we already have two clear reasons to prove it's a man we're looking for."

"Agreed." Rolland thrummed his fingers on the desk. "Besides his voice, it would've been difficult for her to subdue Michael and lift him to the height of the window."

"Yes, and Michael was tall and was hit on the top of his head."

Rolland scrubbed a hand over his face. "At least our list is narrower than before."

"Indeed." Marcus leaned back. "But there's more to discuss than our unresolved list."

Rolland eyed his friend. "What else is bothering you?"

"Lady Glass."

This wasn't the topic Rolland had expected. "If the threat moves to her in any way, she has agreed to leave."

"Good, but that's not what I'm referring to. I observed you today, too, Rolland. You couldn't keep your eyes off her."

Rolland's breath staggered its way out. "After the way Lord Vernon cornered her, how could I?"

"You could say it was merely a protective stare, but I sense there was more to it. And don't think I didn't notice the way you grabbed her hand last night outside your parents' bedchamber."

Rolland pushed his jacket aside and rested his hand on his hip. "Partly protective, partly to comfort her. You'd just announced Michael's death."

Marcus chuckled. "You don't owe me any explanation. It's only because of our conversation about Miss Shields during our trip to town to shop with our guests that I wanted to make certain you're thinking this through."

Rolland could use some guidance, and Marcus saw things clearer than anyone he knew. "I didn't plan to fall for Theresia."

Marcus gave another tired laugh. "Famous last words."

Rolland lifted his brow. "Is that all the advice you have for me?" If his friend only knew how complicated everything was. His father had already set in motion a far different plan, and Rolland had no idea whether Theresia would disappear at the first sign of her vase.

Marcus shrugged. "If you've made up your mind, shouldn't you look happier?"

"When was happiness ever simple?" When it concerned Theresia, Rolland didn't have to tell his heart to be lighter. It just was. But thinking beyond her ruined everything.

"You've made it clear you don't want us to know much about Lady Glass's background," Marcus said, propping his elbows on the desk. "But there are ways I can help. It's not impossible to hide her real identity permanently."

"Thank you, Marcus. I will think on it." But Rolland didn't want that for her. There would always be the risk of her being exposed and the damage being irreparable. Muffled voices came from the other side of the wall, making him sit forward in his seat. "What is that?"

"It sounds like the front door. Cadogen must've finally returned, and not a moment too soon." Marcus stood and rounded his desk, Rolland following him.

In the entrance hall, Mr. Hobson, the butler, was taking the traveling cloaks of an older couple and a young lady. Rolland did not recognize any of them.

"Lord and Lady Caspar," Marcus said in greeting. "What a surprise."

Lord Caspar? Rolland's stomach plummeted. What was he doing here?

"And Miss Shields, so good to see you again."

Rolland reluctantly looked her way. She was a pretty thing, with yellow curls and a slender face. Many would appreciate her, he was sure, but the sight of her just made him ill.

"The honor is all mine." Miss Shields gave a shy smile and dipped a quick curtsy.

"Forgive me. Do you know Lord Barrack's son, Captain Reese?" Marcus stepped aside to give Rolland more attention than he cared to have.

Lord Caspar took his measure and grinned like a hungry man hovering over a fine cut of meat framed with all the fixings. "I have been anxious to meet you, Captain. You're one of the reasons His Grace has to put up with unexpected company." His smile was coy, but it was unamusing to Rolland. There had never been worse timing, as far as he was concerned.

Lady Caspar hurried to Marcus's side. "I hope it's not too inconvenient for you to have us, Your Grace. We did write about our sudden change in plans, but by your reaction, I am certain our carriage beat the post here." She was a good fifteen years her husband's junior and was overdressed for traveling.

"Not to worry, Lady Caspar. Such a thing has happened before." Marcus was a master at hiding his emotions when he wanted to, for he did not bat an eyelash at the obvious stress this would place on him and his wife. "Mr. Hobson, please let Mrs. Kirk know to prepare rooms for our new guests. In the meantime, why don't you all rest in the drawing room. Dinner should be ready within the hour."

"Excellent," Lord Caspar said. "Lord Castlereagh sends his personal thanks for your protection of his committee. We are anxious to recommence our business, which is largely why I am here."

Voices from the top of the stairs drew Rolland's attention upward. His mother was coming down the stairs arm-in-arm with Theresia. His father was not a step behind them. Rolland opened his mouth to call and stop them, but there was naught he could do. Like an enemy ship coming in for attack, sometimes retreat was impossible. Fate had already put in motion a plan he could not stop.