Kate Pearce - Educating Elizabeth

Gervase curled his lip. "If you expect me to congratulate you for betraying your country, you must be insane."

Sir John gestured to the ruffian beside him. Gervase braced himself as the man stepped forward and drove his meaty fists into Gervase's unprotected body. If he hadn't been held up, Gervase feared that he would have fallen to his knees. He fought to retain his balance as pain ripped through his battered ribcage and belly.

Sir John nodded. "Take him away. I've no further use for him." Gervase opened his mouth to speak and Sir John spoke over him. "There is no point in appealing to their better natures, Your Grace, for they have none, and I've already paid them handsomely."

He gestured to the unseen man behind Gervase. "Bind the duke's hands, Albert, and make sure you search him before you leave him to his fate."

As he was dragged toward the door, Gervase started to fight in earnest. Unwilling to submit, he dug in his heels and was rewarded by a savage jab to his kidneys. He shouted over his shoulder as the other thug closed in on him. "Am I to assume that you didn't tell the Foreign Office the assassin's correct position?"

Sir John snorted. "Do you still take me for a fool? I substituted my own directions before I took the message in." He gave a breathless laugh. "I'm the only person who knows where the assassination will take place--apart from the assassin himself, of course."

He flung open the door and watched as Gervase was half-carried through it. "Good riddance, Your Grace," he said piously. "I will enjoy managing your affairs when you are found dead. I will even continue to defend you when you are posthumously implicated and ultimately convicted for your part in the Prince Regent's assassination."

Gervase was pushed out of the back door and into the bright sunlight with such force that he went sprawling on the ground. He gritted his teeth as he was hauled up by his bound hands and bundled into a black carriage. By the look of the two men who accompanied him, Gervase reckoned he could count his remaining life in hours, if not minutes.

He had no opportunity to escape during the short journey and only had time to gulp in the salty, malodorous smell of the river before he was marched into a dank, cavernous room where his hands were untied. He rubbed at his wrists as his captors advanced toward him. Their intent to do him harm was etched on their merciless faces.

Gervase brought his fists up as one of the Brothers Grimm smashed him in the jaw. Eventually he went down, and after several agonizing kicks to his ribs and the rough removal of his coat and waistcoat, Gervase subsided, almost thankfully, into unconsciousness.

It was only nine o'clock in the morning, but Elizabeth suspected she had severely ruffled Lord Vincent's composure with her incessant demands for action. She started on him again as he sat sipping tea in the private parlor.

"I've got to see the duke, my lord. I've got to tell him about the coded message."

Her companion sighed. "We have been over this a thousand times, Elizabeth. Gervase will receive the information from Jack Llewelyn just as you planned."

"But what if something goes wrong?"

"That is not your problem, my dear. I promised Gervase that I would not let you within a hundred miles of the victory parade."

Elizabeth stopped pacing and stared at him. "You promised the duke ?"

Lord Vincent dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "Devil take it," he said testily. "You are an extremely irritating woman. You must forget I said that."

Elizabeth bobbed Vincent a curtsey and ran to the door. "I should have known you were in league with your cousin. Unlike you, I never do what Gervase says."

Before Vincent could stop her, Elizabeth picked up her skirts and was away down the stairs and into the crowded streets below. She drew in a determined breath, plunged into the thickest part of the crowd, and headed toward the distant green shimmer of the park.

When she reached Grosvenor Square, it seemed unusually quiet, its central park deserted. No nannies played safely with their charges under the boughs of the gracious elm trees or strolled along the gravel paths. Elizabeth guessed many had gone to watch the parade and had taken their staff with them.

She ran up the steps of Delamere House and knocked. It took an age for someone to answer her summons.

When Standish finally opened the door, Elizabeth gave him a relieved smile he failed to return. "Good morning, Standish, is the duke at home?"

Standish compressed his lips. "I'm under strict instructions to deny you admittance, Miss Waterstone."

"This is a matter of great urgency. If you tell him I'm here, he will wish to speak to me."

"I'm sorry, Miss Waterstone but you must leave. I would hate to have to call the Runners." With that, Standish shut the door in Elizabeth's face, leaving her gaping like a stranded fish.

She uttered a most unladylike curse and kicked the brass doorplate before turning to march down the steps. As she stood there, wondering what to do next, the door opened again.

"Miss Waterstone!" Nicholas leapt down the stone steps, almost falling in his haste to reach her. He grasped her hands and pulled her away from the house.

"The duke has disappeared. According to Jacques, he went out the morning without telling anyone where he was going, and has not yet returned."

"The duke often goes out without telling anyone his destination. He is not a child."

"No, but there is something peculiar going on. Sir John disappeared yesterday. I haven't been able to find him and now the duke has gone too. It has to have something to do with Le Fleur's plot to assassinate the Prince Regent. We need to find the duke!"

Elizabeth patted Nicholas's sleeve as her mind worked furiously. She wasn't surprised by Sir John's defection, but the duke's disappearance was another matter entirely. "You need to check with Angelique that the duke is not with her and then let the Foreign Office know what has happened. Tell them to send more men to the Strand."

Nicholas agreed, seemingly glad that someone was giving him directions. "And what will you do, Miss Waterstone?"

Elizabeth smiled grimly. "I will go to see if my stepfather is at home, and determine whether the duke honored him with a visit."

The door to the Foresters' house stood open and Elizabeth noticed the duke's familiar gray hat resting on the hall table. With great trepidation, she made her way up the stairs to her mother's drawing room. Her mother sat in her usual chair, wearing a deep green gown and a frothy lace cap threaded with matching ribbon. She looked up as Elizabeth appeared, her expression unwelcoming.

"Why have you come here, Elizabeth?"

"I came to see Michael, mother. I was hoping to accompany him and Mr. Llewelyn to watch the parade."

Mrs. Forester poured herself a cup of tea. "I'm afraid you have missed them. They set off at dawn to make sure of a good spot, as did your stepfather and sister."

Elizabeth backed toward the door. If Jack Llewelyn and Michael had left at dawn, would they have had a chance to relay her message to the duke?

Pinning on a self-assured smile, Elizabeth curtsied. "I didn't mean to bother you, mother. I'll just pop down and make sure they haven't left me a note, and then I'll be off."

She opened the door and gasped as Sir John Harrington appeared and barred her exit.

"Oh no, Miss Waterstone. You are not going anywhere. I've a bone to pick with you. Your constant meddling has made the duke question my judgment and my loyalty."

She stiffened. "I don't know what you are talking about, Sir John."

"Oh, I think you do." Sir John took hold of Elizabeth's elbow. "You tried to undermine me with the duke and he was so enamored of you that he almost chose to believe you over me ."