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“I wish I knew what evidence Stuart had that anyone in the Society is even involved,” Rex muttered. There was a small ball of indignation still pressing in the center of his chest over that. The Society was built on trust. If any of them were involved, he would feel it a personal affront. He had approved every single member’s addition to the club. Mistakes like Julian Mitchell still smarted, but his behavior with the maid, while reprehensible, was not on the same level as assassination and treason. Though, of course, already knowing he had been a mistake made him a much more appealing prospect as a possible traitor than anyone else in the Society.
“There might not be evidence,” Mary said absentmindedly, still scanning the list. “From what Evie has told me, her uncle spends as much time chasing down gossip and whispers that turn out to be nothing as he does those which are viable. There is no way to know until he has investigated which is which.”
That made sense, which slightly mollified Rex. Stuart would have to investigate every whisper when it came to matters of treason, but not all of them would be true. Rex thought it far more likely, the Society was an easy target for gossip than a member of the Society would actually prove to be part of a plot against the crown.
If it even was a plot against the crown.
“Why York?” he asked aloud. Pausing, Mary sat up straight and turned her head to face him, brow wrinkling.
“What do you mean?”
“Why the Duke of York?” Rex drummed his fingers against the desk. “He is not directly in line for the throne. Heisvital to the trade negotiations with the French, but there was no upheaval prior to their visit, and the talks are going well—as they were expected to. There was no reason for them to undermine the proceedings before they arrived, and there is even less so now. So, why York? Because someone wants the negotiations to fail? But why?”
“Who is harmed by their success?” Mary murmured, leaning back against him, soft and snuggly. Rex curled his arm around her waist, tightening it, and she squirmed. Likely, her arse was still sore from her spanking. She sighed. “There are too many variables. The Russian delegation should not be threatened, but who can say how they view the matter. The English should be happy trade routes will become more stable.”
“Except for smugglers,” Rex mused. They both paused, the words hitting home, and Mary sat bolt upright.
Mary
“Smugglers…” During the war, smuggling had practically been an English pastime. Even around her home, where there was no coastline, smuggling had been romanticized in the same way highwaymen were. While most smugglers were just trying to get by, depending on the cargo, fortunes could have been made.
Not only that, but certain cargo—human cargo,actual spies—had also been smuggled in and out of both France and England. She pressed her lips together. There were still too many variables, but Rex’s theory was sound.
“Do you know of anyone in the Society who has a connection to smugglers?” she asked. Rex snorted.
“No, but they would not admit to it if they did,” he pointed out. His arm tightened around her as he leaned forward. Her bottom was still sore, and her body had been completely satisfied by their coupling, but she enjoyed his hold for the sheer pleasure of having him touching her so intimately. “However, wecanpinpoint who has holdings along the coast. It would not be definitive, but it might be a lead, especially if we can narrow other factors.”
A knock at the door had their heads swinging up. Mary tried to jump up from Rex’s lap, but his arm refused to budge.
“Come in,” he said, ignoring her wriggling.
“Rex!” She hissed his name, but he ignored her as Cormack opened the door and stepped inside. Mary wanted to throw her hands up in the air. Why she thought he would care about the proprieties, she had no idea.
“The Earl of Devon is here to see you, my lord,” Cormack said formally, his eyes twinkling, though he pretended he did not see Mary trapped on Rex’s lap. At leastheknew how to behave.
She felt the change in Rex, his sudden relaxation followed swiftly by renewed tension.
“Put him in the library,” Rex said. “I will be there momentarily.” Cormack nodded and stepped back outside, closing the door behind him. Rex’s arm tightened around her, then released, allowing her to stand. He did as well, rising to his feet, an air of reluctance hanging about him. “I am sorry, petal, I would not allow him to interrupt our day if it was not important.”
“I know,” she reassured him. Mary was well aware Rex had wanted the earl standing beside him at their wedding. Unfortunately, neither she nor Evie had brought up the earl’s name in conjunction with their investigations, and she did not feel up to doing so now on her own. Mary did not want to disrupt the fragile peace hanging delicately in the balance between her and her husband, but she did not want to continue hiding anything from him either. “Rex…”
He was already moving away.
“I will return shortly,” he said, hurrying to the door, glancing over his shoulder before he exited. “I would ask you to come with me to meet Lucas, but he has… not been himself lately. I will bring him back here to meet you if I can.”
He was gone before Mary could stop him. Though, if she was honest with herself, she had not tried very hard. Grimacing, she wondered if she dared follow Rex to listen in on the conversation. Her already sore bottom throbbed.
No, probably not.
He trusted her to remain here, so she would have to trust him. Pressing her lips together, her eyes drifted back to the list he had made. At the very least, she could start writing down everything she knew about the various members of the Society. Last Season, she had compiled a surprising amount of information from listening to conversations.
Rex
“You had better be here to apologize for missing my wedding.” Striding into the library, Rex’s gaze found and fixed Lucas with a stern look before his expression turned to one of concern. Lucas had seen better days.
While there were times when he turned up looking disreputable, now he appeared dilapidated. The stubble on his jawline looked to be several days growth, his cheeks appeared hollower than usual, and the dark bags beneath his eyes were heavily pronounced. He was sprawled in one of the great chairs in front of the fireplace, but not as though he were posing, as he would have done in the past, but more like he did not have the energy to stand. The clothes he was wearing were clean but wrinkled, his cravat drooping, his collar unpressed. Rex had never seen him in such a state. Not even after his parents passed.
“What is wrong?” Rex demanded, concern flooding him. He hurried forward, but Lucas held up his hand, bringing Rex to a halt a few feet away.
