Page 14 of Doubling Down on a Duke
Helen shifted closer and hugged her friend. “Don’t worry. We will figure out a way so that Lady Lillian, Lady Ruth, and you are safe from the bandits and your reputations remain untarnished.”
“We don’t care about our reputations, and we can take care of ourselves. We just want the diamonds returned to their rightful place. That’s why I reached out to Lord Kilman with the Home Office.”
She needed to gain Phoebe’s full cooperation. Helen expelled a deep breath and asked, “What would you say if I told you the only way to achieve your goal was to trust me with the jewels?”
The serious scowl that had scared half the eligible bachelors away and prevented the other half from ever attempting to speak to Phoebe appeared right before Helen’s eyes.
Helen held her breath as her friend scanned her features. Lips tightly pressed together, Phoebe stared at Helen for a moment longer, and then said, “I have the diamonds hidden amongst my clothing in my chambers. I shall give them to you…” Phoebe’s gaze flickered to the door for a moment before returning to Helen. Her friend was unusually skittish, signs that her encounter with the thieves had been more traumatic than what Phoebe wanted to share.
Helen covered her friend's quivering hands and said, “Go on.”
“If…” Phoebe closed her eyes and took in a deep breath and tried again, “If you can promise me that you will come up with a scheme to put them back where they belong without endangering yourself. Promise not to take risks.”
“Risks are a part of life, but I will promise to take precautions. As you know and witnessed, I’m adept at hiding and slipping in and out of events and places without notice. Also I’m a duchess now, which gives me greater access to the royal palace. Trust me.”
“I want to. You and I have weathered many a Season together.” The corner of Phoebe’s lips twitched as if she was attempting to smile but couldn’t.
Helen’s heart shattered. Phoebe was one of the smartest, bravest ladies she knew. Debating whether to fulfill her promise to Lord Kilman or remain silent, Helen hedged her chances and asked, “May I ask you something?”
“How peculiar. Nothing has stopped you from asking in the past.” The woman knew her all too well. “You can’t not ask now. What is it you want to know?”
“Knowing that Lord Kilman is an agent of the Home Office, and the danger that accompanies his affiliation with the organization, does that exclude him as a potential suitor after your recent brush with danger?” She had paraphrased the man’s question and clarified it for Phoebe because she wished to help Lord Kilman make an informed decision. The torn expression he had unwittingly displayed when he spoke of Phoebe revealed much more than his simple words of concern. Helen studied Phoebe closely just as she had studied Lord Kilman when he requested her assistance.
To her surprise, the uncertainty she’d seen in Phoebe’s features disappeared and with clear eyes, her friend retorted with a question of her own. “Did rumors of Whistlestop’s association with rakes, hell owners, madames, agents of the home office, and the royal family sway your heart?”
“No.”
Exhibiting strength and confidence more like her past self, Phoebe rose and pulled Helen up along with her. “Then you have your answer, for you and I almost always think alike, do we not?”
“We do.”
With a broad smile that had stolen many a gentleman’s heart, Phoebe said, “And that is how I know you will finish the task I set out to do but cannot complete.”
And with that, Helen’s heart was healed and whole once more with the knowledge that her friendship with Phoebe would undoubtedly withstand the challenges and changes they would each face in the coming years, just as it had for the past decade.
EPILOGUE
TWELVE MONTHS LATER…
Why hostesses insisted on separating married couples at the dining table was beyond Bryce’s comprehension. Unable to ensure Helen’s plate was filled with her favorite dishes, or to see to it that her glass was refilled promptly, Bryce sat in frustration three seats down and on the opposite side of Redburn’s extraordinarily large dining table. They were amidst their fourth mission as a married couple, and he was growing more anxious as each day that passed stuck in London and unable to leave for their ducal country residence. Bryce was worried about Helen’s health. Her heightened sensitivity to smells of late hinted that she might in fact be pregnant, which wouldn’t be at all surprising, since they took full advantage of every private moment they had in between assignments.
“Your Grace?”
Lady Lillian's address fashioned as a question brought his attention back to the young lady who sat next to him. If itweren’t for Helen’s adamant stance to support the wallflower-gone-rogue, he would have ignored the chit who he believed had been nothing but a hindrance in their current investigation. “Beg your pardon, could you repeat the question?”
Lady Lillian smiled broadly and answered, “Icould.”
Not in the mood to play word games with the lady, Bryce sliced into the healthy portion of beef upon his plate.
“Aren’t you in the least bit curious as to what I discovered today?”
He took his time chewing the piece of meat covered in Salisbury sauce. Slightly salty. He straightened and attempted to glance at Helen’s plate. Too much salt would not be good for her.
“Tsk. Tsk. Your Grace. Here I thought you to be a man who valued information.”
From having to deal with the lady for nearly a year now, he knew not to fall into her trap. Reaching for his glass of wine which he sincerely hoped wasn’t watered down, Bryce finally caught his wife’s attention. Except she wasn’t looking at him. Helen was staring at Lady Lillian, who he observed from the corner of his eye tugging on her ear—code for “not listening.” This, of course, prompted his wife to glare at him rather than gazing upon him with her normal sweet disposition.
He turned to face Lady Lillian and forced himself to smile. “I’d love to hear whatever news you have to impart.”
