Kate Pearce - Educating Elizabeth

"You are indeed without price. How could you doubt my intentions? I would never expect you to watch me make love to another woman, or, God forbid, comment on my performance. I've already told you I only have one woman in my bed at a time." He patted her back. "Strive for a little faith."

Elizabeth's face flamed scarlet as she backed away. The duke produced the deck of cards and with a wicked smile he held the pack out to her.

"I think that you should go to bed, Elizabeth. You look a little heated. But before you go, pick a card and don't tell me what it is."

With a strangled moan, Elizabeth did as he requested and then turned to leave, the card still clasped tightly in her hand.

"Goodnight, my dear."

The duke's amusement pursued her up the stairs and she didn't think to look at the playing card until she was safely within the confines of her bedroom. She opened her fingers and gasped as she realized that there was nothing there. She glanced down at her bodice where the tip of a card protruded from in between her breasts. She couldn't help but laugh when she found the enigmatic face of the Queen of Hearts gazing back at her.

Gervase stared into the fire where the remains of Angelique's letter smoldered and writhed like an adder. Elizabeth had looked well in the pale lilac gown he had chosen for her. It was a pity she had stained the ruffled cuff with ink. He had never met a woman so unconcerned with her appearance, but somehow it was part of her charm.

Deep in thought, Gervase passed through the doorway concealed in his bookcase, which led to Sir John's office. He smiled when he noticed the disarray Elizabeth had created on her new desk in just one day. By contrast, Sir John's desk was neat as a pin. He stopped smiling when he realized Elizabeth had left the coded messages and their translations out on the top of her desk where anyone could see them.

Surely Sir John had told Elizabeth to put the documents away? It would have been out of character for him to leave without mentioning it. Another, more unsettling thought, occurred to Gervase. Had Elizabeth ignored Sir John's advice and left the documents out deliberately?

Gervase moved toward her desk and arranged the coded sheets in order, laying each translation alongside. His interest deepened as he read through the first two, which, as he had expected, introduced the initial concept of the assassination plot, and identified Le Fleur as the ringleader.

Elizabeth hadn't quite finished with the third, but Gervase whistled softly in admiration of her skills. He and a team of experts from the Foreign Office had labored for months over the damned things and got nowhere. His little brown bird had taken one supercilious look and solved them in a trice, all the while wondering why the other 'muttonheads' were so slow.

He placed the documents in the top right hand drawer of Elizabeth's desk and looked for the key he knew he had left in the lock that morning. He couldn't find it, even after a protracted search. With a soft curse, he retrieved the documents and brought them through into his own study where he knew they would be safe.

Despite his successful attempt to allay Elizabeth's suspicions, his evening had not been without its share of danger. Exposing cheats and then walking calmly out of the house required nerve and Gervase feared he was becoming too old to enjoy the thrill. The threat of a pistol shot in the back at this crucial point in his investigations was not to be thought of.

As he climbed the stairs, a stray memory of Mrs. Forester sitting at the very table where Gervase discovered the cheating stirred in his mind. He tried to recall the expression on her face. Has she looked shocked or angry at his revelations? He couldn't quite remember, his attention focused on the fraudulent card dealer. All he noticed was that her smile was but a pale echo of Elizabeth's.

It wasn't until he reached the very edge of sleep that another image burned across Gervase's vision. He saw again Mrs. Forester's black lace mittened hands scooping up the forgotten money on the table with frantic haste. Then she had disappeared as the uproar over his disclosures reached its peak.

"I asked you both here to assist me in a matter regarding Mrs. Waterstone." Gervase focused his attention on Sir John and Nicholas, who occupied the chairs in front of his desk. Nicholas lounged at his ease, one foot crossed over the other at the ankle. Sir John sat hunched forward, as if ready to leap to his feet at any moment.

Gervase unlocked his desk drawer and produced the parchments Elizabeth had been working on. "I found these lying on Mrs. Waterstone's desk last night. When I attempted to lock them securely in her desk, I discovered the key was missing."

Sir John frowned and sat up even straighter. "I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but I'm certain I instructed Mrs. Waterstone to lock up the documents when she finished for the night."

Suddenly, he stopped speaking as if Gervase had stabbed him in the chest and buried his head in his hands. "Devil take it! I took the key from Mrs. Waterstone's desk to get a copy made of it! I completely forgot to give it back to her." He flushed an unbecoming shade of red under Gervase's unimpressed stare and fingered his cravat as though it had suddenly become too tight.

"I don't know what to say, Your Grace, although," he hesitated, "It still does not explain why Mrs. Waterstone didn't put the documents away, does it? Even without the key to the drawer, she could have put them out of sight as I told her to."

"Exactly. I intend to have a polite word with her on the matter of security and hope it was just a mistake." He swung around to meet Sir John's mortified gaze. "May I suggest that you repeat your instructions to Mrs. Waterstone as well? I would hate for any further confusion."

Sir John muttered something unintelligible and turned even redder. He dug in his waistcoat pocket and produced two keys that he handed to Gervase. "These are the keys to Mrs. Waterstone's desk, Your Grace. I can only apologize for my irresponsible behavior and promise it will never happen again."

Gervase took the keys and then turned back to Nicholas, who was regarding the crestfallen Sir John with considerable glee.

"You have been accompanying Mrs. Waterstone on her outings, Nick." Gervase asked. "Has anything untoward happened?"

"There was one thing, Your Grace." He gave an embarrassed laugh. "I'm not sure if it is even worth mentioning."

"If it stuck in your mind, Nick, let's hear it." Gervase sat on the edge of the desk, folded his arms and regarded his young relative intently.

"When we were at Hookham's lending library, Mrs. Waterstone was occupied setting up a reading subscription and I left her alone for a while to wander through the shop. When I returned, I noticed her passing a letter and some money across to the counter clerk."

Nicholas shrugged. "Maybe she didn't realize that, as a member of the House of Lords, you are able to frank her letters for her."

Gervase ran a hand through his hair. "Or maybe she didn't wish me to know whom she was writing to." He let out a breath and turned to stare out of the window. "Keep watching her, Nick and let me know if she engages in anything other than shopping, gossiping or visiting her family. I'm still not completely sure of her."

Sir John and Nicholas stood to leave.

"Could you ask Mrs. Waterstone to give me the pleasure of her company, Nick? I assume you will be meeting her over the breakfast table in the next few minutes."

A smile replaced Nicholas's frown. "Of course I will. I hope she has finished her repast. I would hate to be the one to interrupt her."

"Highly amusing, Nick," Gervase said dryly. "But may I suggest that you hurry? If you leave her for too long there might not be anything left for you and you are such a puny fellow." The duke smiled as Nicholas snorted. "If she complains, you may blame my autocratic nature. She will surely agree with you."