Sweet mother of God, how was he going to manage all this with Elinor in London too?
Damp crept up through the knees of his trousers.
He’d managed it in the war, gotten battalions out of impossible corners. If Wellington called on Peter as a strategist, surely he could juggle one sixteen-year-old girl and a false identity.
“King’s truce and crosses,” Leavenworth called softly.
Peter crawled back through the shrubbery.
“You need a valet,” Leavenworth observed mildly, as Peter tried to rid himself of clinging woodland.
Peter threw some leaves at him, but did his best to brush off his trousers. Zounds, but he would be an insult to any lady who was unfortunate enough to be seen in his company.
Leavenworth laughed. Not honey, but a yap of tension. “Any sign of Jackdaw?”
“No. He must have gone straight out of the park. Thank God.”
“That poor old man!” Leavenworth ran a hand over his own hair; he rarely fidgeted. “That was worse than just your alias slipping. Derrick’s not away safe in Northumberland like the rest of your family.”
Peter shook his head, and they started to loop back through the park. “I can’t let Jackdaw know about him.” It was worse than that. “I can’t afford to make Jackdaw irritated. At all. Ever.”
And he couldn’t afford to draw any attention to Celia, who was also conveniently located for digital amputation.
Leavenworth grunted his agreement. “So you go to Italy for a few months. Jackdaw’s attention wanders, or he gets himself fired. I could purchase the house for you, Francis could work on getting your father’s permission. Hell, give him a few months, and Francis could most certainly get Jackdaw fired. I’m sure he’d find reason, and he plays whist with Lord George—he’s above Jackdaw in the Home Office, isn’t he?”
Peter grunted agreement.
“Meanwhile, we hire someexcellentfootmen.” Leavenworth rubbed his hands together. “I know plenty of them—fellows who don’t have enough to do since the war has ended, ready for a steady salary and the occasional night hunt. I’ll manage that, you go home, get Elinor where you can keep an eye on her, and by the time you get back…andweare a threat of our own.”
Only a few months. Celia would be married.
“I don’t want to get you involved.”
“Alcott. Friendship doesn’t just go one way.”
Peter kicked another stone.
“Besides”—Leavenworth grinned a wolfish grin of his own—“I’ve missed giving command.”
Peter began to laugh. “If you’re forming an entire new street gang, please don’t tell me about it. I’d have to put it in my report.”
Leavenworth chuckled along, low and slow like honey.
They headed down the rise, back towards the little pond.
Still full of duck shit, nothing else. It would have been a good place for Jackdaw to land.
Chapter Nineteen
Retaliation
Finally. Clarence senta note that he would stop by, and when Celia closed her eyes she saw the green hills and secret streams. She spent the morning preparing for his visit, rushing through her household chores as her mind tumbled through the best way to talk him into planning the trip. He had been in a good mood at the party, he had said they could go to Killyreigh this summer. He had already said.
Twenty-four days of London, then Soreng House, then a gentleman to escort them to Bristol and across the Irish Sea. Celia had five letters ready for Clarence to frank, to the housekeeper and neighbors and cousins. She was worried about Mr. Hughes’s mention of gambling debts; perhaps she could persuade Clarence to stay in Ireland, too. Oh, let him not be in one of his gloomy moods! The rumors of gossip had unsettled Celia more than she liked, but she must keep her spirits up. Perhaps Mr. Cade would propose tomorrow.
Clarence arrived mid-afternoon, brushing rain off his cuffs with his characteristic scowl. Celia smiled her sweetest smile, greeted him in English, and Clarence’s face softened. He put his arm around her, kissed her cheek, and asked after Henrietta.
Celia tried to read his face. Was it the casual ask of a playmate, or something else? For Henrietta, having Killyreigh would make up for a somewhat disappointing husband. Andonce Clarence had a steady wife and a solid home, he would finish growing up and become much less disappointing. He had the makings of a good husband in him, Celia knew it.
