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“If there had been anything to discover at Lord Leighton’s estate, I would have discovered it,” Lord Brandley said, as though he was required to justify himself to Charles. “And Lord Riggerton and Lord Hogarth are quite certain that both Lord Autry and Lord Breton have nothing to do with the French.”
“I am aware of that,” Charles muttered, rubbing his forehead. “As I am also aware that we have seen no sign of the scarred gentleman, that there is no knowledge of who has shot at Lady Esther – although it may very well be the same gentleman – and that we have not made a
ny progress in deciphering the book!” He sighed, gritting his teeth in suppressed frustration.
“That will come,” Lord Brandley said calmly. “If we discover the whereabouts of Lord Leighton, then we will have the cipher and be able to understand the book. The French will know that we have discovered it, and those who hide within society will, most likely, retreat.”
“I am aware of that,” Charles retorted, a little more sharply than he had meant. “But as yet, we have done nothing.”
Lord Brandley sighed. “What can we do?” he asked, spreading his hands. “We have done our level best and yet come up with nothing. The only thing we can do is to continue searching.”
“I know,” Charles replied, feeling somewhat deflated. “I do not mean to speak harshly, Brandley. It is only that I feel for Lady Esther, as well as feeling as though I am failing in my duty to the king.”
“You are not,” Lord Brandley said firmly, putting one hand on Charles’s shoulder. “Go now. Be with your lady and take her safely to the ball. I shall be there soon afterwards.”
Charles, who knew that Lord Brandley was going to be present simply to ensure that Lady Esther was kept quite safe, as he had done on prior occasions, smiled his thanks and felt some of his irritation fade away. “I will,” he replied, shaking Lord Brandley’s hand firmly. “Thank you, Brandley. We will succeed in the end.”
“As we always do,” Lord Brandley reminded him. “Have no fear. We will find Lord Leighton very soon, I am sure of it.”
* * *
“Goodness!”
Charles could not help but smile at the reaction to the magnificent ball. It was one of the most prestigious balls of the Season, for the Duke of Pottinger had a good deal of wealth and could throw the most exuberant of occasions – and he had not failed to do so here.
“You will accept dances from me, I hope?” he murmured in Lady Esther’s ear, who laughed and handed him her dance card at once. “I will steal the very best dances of the evening and keep them solely to myself.” He wrote his name down for the two waltzes and then the supper dance, knowing that the ton were now fully aware of his intentions towards Lady Esther and having no qualms about revealing them again. “And there will be plenty of other gentlemen to seek you out, I am certain of it.” He gave her a roguish wink, knowing that the gentlemen who would make their way to her side would be, for the most part, gentlemen who belonged in The King’s League. There were a few present here this evening, and Charles knew that they would also be keeping a close eye on Lady Esther.
Perhaps, he thought wryly, I shall be able to relax and enjoy this evening for what it is - a ball where I can dance with the lady that I have come to adore. Of course, Charles knew that such a thing was almost entirely impossible, for he would always be on his guard when it came to Lady Esther—until the whole situation had been brought to a satisfactory end.
“You are very kind, Lord Westbrook,” Lady Ware said, as he led Lady Esther forward into the ballroom. “I am glad that my niece has decided to accept your courtship. I am certain her father will be very pleased. I have written to him, of course.”
Charles shot a glance towards Lady Esther, who gave him the most miniscule of nods.
“You have not received a reply then?” he asked, knowing that Lady Esther had encouraged him to ask such questions. “Do you think he is returning to London?”
Lady Ware bit her lip and looked away, before putting a false smile on her face that betrayed her anxiety. “I do not know, but I am certain that he is still caught up with business,” she said. “However, I have no doubt that once he receives the news, he will be very pleased indeed.”
Charles smiled, aware that Lady Ware was doing all she could to encourage him and wanting to reassure her that he needed no encouragement when it came to Lady Esther. “I should be glad to see him whenever he returns to London,” he said, catching Lady Esther’s eyes. “For there are some things I should very much like to discuss with him.” His smile grew at Lady Esther’s blush, leaving Lady Ware with a knowing look that he was certain was one of encouragement.
“And the first dance is upon us!” he exclaimed, hearing the strains of the waltz beginning to play. “Come, Lady Esther, and we shall begin this ball in earnest.”
* * *
More than an hour had passed before Charles had the pleasure of dancing with Lady Esther again. The joy of having her in his arms was indescribable, as was the disappointment that followed when she was soon secured by another. It did not matter however; he reminded himself that she was his and his alone. There was no doubt in his mind when it came to Lady Esther’s affection for him. It had grown and blossomed in the time they had spent together, and he was thrilled with the knowledge that, one day soon, she would become a permanent part of his life. The moment Lord Leighton was returned home, safe and secure, he would speak to him about his intention to propose.
“Westbrook.”
He turned, hearing his name being spoken in a hushed, urgent whisper. Lord Watt was standing just behind him, beckoning him to come to a quieter corner of the ballroom.
Charles’s stomach sank, seeing the look in Lord Watt’s eyes. Had something gone wrong?
“What is it?” he asked, hurrying over to his friend. “Have you discovered something?”
“Lord Riggerton has just sent word,” Lord Watt said, his voice low and his eyes darting about the room. “Lord Leighton has been discovered.”
Charles sucked in a breath, fearing the worst.
“He is alive, but only just,” Lord Watt continued quickly. “He was discovered just outside of London. Lord Riggerton caught sight of a gentleman with a scar running from his eye and down his cheek and so he followed him. He discovered the man was holding Lord Leighton within a tiny, dank room in one of the squalid parts of London. Lord Leighton is quite ill however. Riggerton states that they can barely make sense of what he is saying.”
