Page 52 of The Deception (Baron 3)

“That little fraud,” Evangeline said, and laughed, her entire face lighting up. “I was teaching him, you see. Now he believes himself a master.”

“What he needs,” the duke said slowly, looking from her mouth to her breasts, completely covered this morning by a pale yellow morning gown, “is brothers and sisters.”

She gulped. “Perhaps,” she said finally, “Lady Jane could be trained to be more human. What do you think?”

“Well,” he said, his eyes alight with wickedness, “she did assure all of us that she was a virgin. That must weigh something in the scales.” That got her goat but good. She leaped to grab the bait he’d so easily tossed. “You pompous, arrogant English bastard. You—” She drew herself up, her hands fisted at her sides, to see that he was laughing at her.

“I will go with you to see Edmund. We will both give him a chess lesson.”

“Go to the devil,” she said, turned on her heel, routed, and stomped out of the breakfast room. His laughter, deep and sweet, swept over her, and she collided with a footman.

Chapter 27

Evangeline held her reticule close to her chest. Inside was the envelope John Edgerton had had a messenger deliver to her that morning. She didn’t want to know what was inside. But she was afraid, dreadfully afraid.

The day was so cold she could see her breath in the carriage.

The duke leaned over and patted the blanket more closely around her legs. “Can you believe that just weeks ago we were basking under a summer sun?”

The carriage came to a halt. Juniper appeared at the window, all sharp and smiling. He very much enjoyed being in the thick of things, the duke thought. But he imagined that Juniper also wondered why the devil he was bringing a young lady to the war ministry. Why indeed?

“No,” she said. “I can’t believe it.” She was standing in front of a soot-darkened gray stone building, stark and uninviting. It appeared to be in need of a good cleaning. It was surrounded by a high black iron fence. It seemed unnaturally quiet on the street, for there were no scrambling hawkers here to disturb the important men behind its walls. Two of his majesty’s uniformed guards stood in silent scrutiny.

“You can see Westminster from here,” the duke said, pointing a gloved finger.

“How utterly delightful,” Evangeline said briskly and, ignoring the duke’s look of incredulity, walked with a determined step to the tall black gate in front of the ministry.

The duke had no need to identify himself to the guards. Immediately the great iron gates swung open. “Your grace,” said one guard. “Stay with the horses, Juniper,” the duke called out. “Just as you normally do.”

They walked up a dozen deeply worn stone steps to the huge double doors. The guard pulled at a heavy iron-ringed knob and bowed low to the duke. “Your grace,” he said. “Lord Pettigrew’s secretary will now assist you.”

“You have every right to be the most conceited man in all of England.”

“Oh, no. The prince regent leaves me in the dirt. Besides, I pay no attention.” He gave her a bewildered look. “Would you rather we were treated in a paltry manner and ignored?”

“Certainly not. It’s just that everyone treats you as though you were the prince regent.”

“Oh, no, they don’t. Everyone in the know is much more polite to me, I assure you.”

Evangeline drew up, startled. The duke’s softly spoken words reverberated off the walls like a mighty echo. She glanced about. The main hall rose upward some four stories, wrought iron railings enclosing each of the floors. Uniformed guards stood quietly at each landing. Gentlemen of all ages, dressed in somber colors, walked purposefully through the main entrance hall, slowing only briefly when they saw Evangeline pass. The duke was greeted by every man and

bowed to. It was disconcerting. She was roundly ignored.

“It must be obvious to you by now that ladies don’t normally grace this place,” the duke said smoothly after a young man, with less aplomb than the others, nearly tripped over his feet at the sight of her.

“Richard, Evangeline. You are exactly on time. Welcome to my second home.” Lord Pettigrew appeared from the far side of the entrance hall. Unlike the secretaries and clerks, he was attired in a buff coat and dark brown breeches. Despite his warm welcome, Evangeline sensed that he was harried. Doubtless he thought her request to visit the ministry a frivolous one, and was not overjoyed that she was taking his valuable time. She didn’t blame him at all. She looked at him, knew what she was doing, and wanted to die. Instead, she gave him a charming smile and said, “Thank you for letting me come.”

He nodded, then said to the duke, “We have more information from Paris. If you are free this evening, there are those of us who would like to meet with you.”

“Certainly,” the duke said. “Now, let’s have a tour for Madame Curiosity here. Do we have you for a guide or one of your many minions?”

“The great Duke of Portsmouth escorted about by a clerk? Hardly.”

Lord Pettigrew led them through stark and somber conference rooms that reeked of stale tobacco smoke. “I have so longed to see the Lord Deputy’s Chamber,” Evangeline said as Lord Pettigrew led them into that ancient, oak-timbered room that had known endless discussions about England’s future. She was near to shrieking at Lord Pettigrew when finally he said, “All that remains is my office. It’s not all that impressive.”

She gave him her best charming smile. “Oh, how I should like to see exactly where it is you work, Drew.” For the first time he seemed to hesitate. “I promise you that I will then be content and leave you alone.” Still he hesitated. She added, “I daresay ladies can’t be blamed for wanting to see where gentlemen like you spend their days.”

“Very well, Evangeline,” Lord Pettigrew said finally, good-natured once again. “The good Lord knows that both the duke and I have spent hours in here. To the best of my knowledge, my Felicia has never even considered stepping one of her dainty feet into this mausoleum.”

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