“I do not yet know, I only know which Ihopeit is.”
“And how do you plan to discover which it is?” the queen said, looking sympathetically at her dogs as they yawned with boredom.
“I am going to plant an innocuous but false report on my desk in the library. I will leave it there for days to give her every opportunity to finding it. If she has been spying, the report will surface in the newspapers.”
“Make it both innocuous and in our favor. As you know, the poor king is subsisting on broths and soups and refuses anything else. Let the report say that he has developed a voracious appetite for lamb and venison and becomes agitated if beef or chicken is placed on the table. It is eccentric enough to grab a newspaper’s interest, but not damning, and it will obscure the real case of things.”
Jasper nodded, as always appreciating the queen’s cunning. He also noted that the dogs certainly understood some words, as the mention of lamb, venison, beef and chicken had awoken them from their ill-tempered stupor, and they looked hopefully around the room.
“Capital idea—it points directly away from the truth.”
“Just so,” the queen said.
*
Georgiana’s days hadbeen filled with calls and dinners and routs. The routs she found particularly exhausting. Such a crush of people meandering about! For all that, though, her circle of acquaintance was expanding rapidly and that was why she had come to London. So far, no gentleman had sent her aflutter, except of course for Lord Langley who she had firmly ruled out. But she might meet someone at any moment at any place.
At Lady Mendleton’s at-home day, there had been a stream of people coming in. Based on their rather ill-disguised curiosity, Georgiana presumed they had come to get a look at Lady Mendleton’s latest project, which was her.
Her dear sponsor had taken the precaution of roping the pianoforte shut and claiming it needed repair so there could not be any uncomfortable requests for Georgiana to play it. The duchess had stopped by and nodded approvingly at the scheme, Lady Heathway had only looked nonplussed and grilled Lady Mendleton on who she’d hired to do the repairs.
Lord Asturt had been as good as his word and come. He was odd as ever, seeming delighted to encounter Marcus in the hall and staying out there to converse with him for some time. Still, he was charming in his odd way. He made no mention at all that he’d seen her ungraciously sail over her horse in the park and Georgiana was grateful for it. In truth, it seemed he was beginning to grow on her. After all, he was rather good-looking, seemed to be eminently suitable, and based on his rather laissez-faire comments in the park he was not easily shocked. Perhaps that was what she liked best about him. She was beginning to find that the pretty ways of Town were perhapstoopretty. There was something to be said for a man who did not take it all too seriously.
Georgiana thought she must have made a credible showing to Lady Mendleton’s callers, as there had been numerous invitations extended and the lady herself had seemed well-pleased by the end of it.
Today, she had been left to her own devices. Lady Mendleton had gone to the duchess for a tête-à-tête and Georgiana was not needed. Her tea with the queen was on the morrow and she decided the best way to avoid thinking about it overmuch was to immerse herself in a book. In fact it was the only way, as she could not practice on the roped-shut pianoforte, sewing would only aggravate her and fail to produce anything useful, and unlike the country, she could not saunter out alone. For all the things shecouldn’tdo, reading at least was one she was well-versed in and very proper. She made her way to the library, encountering nobody in the hall, and slipped in.
Georgiana had thought she would have the library to herself. It was Lord Langley who most often occupied it, but he’d left the house hours ago. She was, therefore, surprised to encounter Marcus at Lord Langley’s desk.
He held a sheet of paper which he put down quickly upon noting her. “Ah, Miss Wilcox,” he said, “I was just straightening. I will get out of your way.”
Georgiana nodded and watched him hurriedly put the paper into a drawer in the desk and hurry out, seeming a bit red-faced.
It was very odd. She had not understood that a valet would act as a secretary too. But perhaps it was so. After all, how much did she really know about a valet’s duties anyway? Her father’s valet was more like his friend, which she was certain was not usual. And certainly, a man as busy with the queen as Lord Langley seemed to be probably required a secretary and she had not seen one about the place.
Georgiana scanned the shelves of old books full of dusty reading until she spotted the far side of the lowest shelf that seemed to be given over to newer novels. There, she was surprised to come uponZastrozzi, the book Lord Bertridge had spoken of at Lord Ryland’s dinner. As she read the description and thumbed through it, she decided it was suitably gothic and probably very terrible. Precisely what she looked for.
She had almost decided to leave and take the book to the drawing room, but something about the valet’s demeanor kept tugging at her. He had seemed embarrassed to be caught holding that paper. Why should he look as if he’d been caught out if he only acted in a proper role as secretary? Had whatever he’d been readingreallybeen meant for his eyes, or had Marcus been snooping?
Georgiana had a great inclination to go to the desk and see for herself. But of course, that would makehera snooper. On the other hand, if her suspicions about Marcus were right and it were something of vital national interest, or even worse, a private missive from the queen, Lord Langley ought to be told to lock his desk.
She really was of two minds over it, though she noticed her feet were carrying her slowly toward the desk.
Chapter Eight
Georgiana stood overLord Langley’s desk and sighed over her own curiosity. Or nosiness as some might call it. Nevertheless, she would snoop on the valet’s snooping. Just to check if any great secrets had been uncovered by Lord Langley’s valet.
She listened for sounds in the hall. Hearing none, she pulled the desk drawer open and slipped the paper out.
As she read it, she felt a vast relief. She quickly replaced it and shut the drawer. It was only some report from a senior servant of the king, explaining that the king was growing particular in his meals. Lamb and venison were in, while chicken and beef were out. There was no mention of fish, so she did not know how the king got on with that. The most outrageous thing noted was that the king became agitated if beef or chicken were placed on the table. Odd, but hardly a great sin.
Did not her own father become agitated when a dish was too liberal with garlic or onion? If Marcus had been snooping, he had not been well-paid for his trouble. She would say nothing of it to Lord Langley and began to view herself a ninny. Certainly, such an astute gentleman must be clever enough to keep all important correspondence suitably locked up. She really ought to have thought of that notion first.
And she would not like to be known as a snooper. Though she had snooped.
As she crossed the hall from the library to the drawing room, she encountered Perry. She smiled at him and held the book up, as if to account for her foray into the library.
Now that she was convinced that she’d done wrong, she only hoped she did not look as guilty as she felt.
