Romancing The Rogue (The Rogue Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  “Hold.”

  Richard’s order startled her.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as he stepped closer, a frown marring his brow.

  “I want to know what’s so special about this book that makes it worth so much trouble.”

  “And when the duke realizes you know the contents of his package, then what?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If it contains a secret of some sort, your knowledge will turn you into a liability. One he might wish to be rid of.”

  She quickly set the opener on the desk as she stared at the package, swallowing hard at the idea of what Richard implied. “What will I say to the duke? He’ll know I didn’t make the exchange, even if I somehow manage to avoid him for a few days. If he shares the truth about my father—”

  “We need leverage to make certain he doesn’t tell anyone.” Richard picked up the package. “This could be what we need.”

  “We?” she asked. “As in you and me?”

  “Of course.” The answer came too quickly.

  She watched as he examined the book, but something was amiss. The hesitation in his manner was barely discernible, yet she sensed it. She’d come to know him better than she’d realized in the past few weeks. “You already know what’s in there.”

  His eyes narrowed as his gaze met hers. “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps you’d like to share the truth with me.” She waited, hoping he’d tell her.

  “I have a guess as to what’s inside.”

  “And that is?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  Disappointment and hurt rolled through her like a wave, nearly sweeping her under as she realized he didn’t trust her. The past hour had meant nothing to him.

  He set aside the book and took her hands even as she shifted away. “Caroline, you don’t understand. The more you know of this affair, the more danger in which you’ll be.”

  “I don’t think you understand.” She pulled her hands free, welcoming the anger that jerked her movements. “I have to do all I can to protect my family.”

  “You can’t protect them if you’re—” He stopped abruptly, looking away.

  She gasped. “Dead? You believe my life will be in danger?”

  He ran a hand through his hair as he spun away only to turn back. “The duke is a dangerous man. More dangerous than you know.”

  If he’d told her that a week ago, she’d have dismissed his words without a second thought. Yet after the way the duke had spoken to her last night, including the not-so-subtle threat, she wondered if Richard spoke the truth. “How do you know this?”

  “I’ve been watching his movements for several weeks now.”

  “Why?”

  “Caroline, I would ask you to trust me. I know I haven’t given you many reasons to do so, but I’m asking all the same.” He reached out to gently touch her cheek. “You must know I care for you. I would never see you or your family come to harm. I fear telling you more because doing so might place you in danger.”

  “But what will I tell the duke?”

  “Tell him at least part of the truth. That you tried to deliver the book but the other one wasn’t there so you didn’t make the exchange. I’ll make certain you aren’t alone with him when you speak to him.”

  She didn’t bother to point out that she hadn’t been alone with him the last time he’d not-so-subtly threatened her. “He’ll eventually find out. Whoever was supposed to receive it will soon tell him.”

  “Yes, but that might not happen for a few days. That will give me enough time to eliminate any possible threat.”

  How? The word nearly spilled from her lips, but she held back, knowing he wouldn’t answer. Was she willing to trust him with this?

  He now knew all her secrets.

  But she knew none of his.

  ~*~

  Richard hated the caution that dropped like a curtain over Caroline’s eyes. He could clearly see the questions rolling through her mind. His refusal to share answers with her was putting a crevice between them. An ever-widening crevice.

  Yet he wasn’t at liberty to tell her anything. If only she understood that it was for her own safety.

  He wanted to know what was in that book as much as she did. But he didn’t dare open it while she was present. She’d do her best to keep the contents a secret, but if the duke confronted her, she didn’t have the wherewithal to pretend she didn’t know.

  Taylor had already been retrieved by two of Richard’s associates from Whitehall. With some persuasion, perhaps he’d talk.

  As for the duke, Richard believed he’d ventured to the coast—Southampton, to be specific. Previous observations tracked him there on more than one occasion. No doubt the duke sent messages across the Channel. Slipping a boat from there to France wasn’t easy but was possible. Richard suspected Wayfair or someone working with him had done it several times before.

  Donning his facade, hoping Caroline didn’t see through it once again, he pushed aside the book as though it didn’t matter. “The duke will most likely be gone for two to three days. We’ll determine an exact plan prior to his return. Trust me, Caroline. I will protect you.”

  Her reluctant nod relieved him but no trust lit her eyes. Already the quiet moment they’d shared was nothing but a memory.

  He needed all of this to be over and done as quickly as possible, before she saw through all his defenses to the man beneath.

  ~*~

  Richard surveyed the exterior of Wayfair’s home late that evening. Except for lights in the rear, where the servants were gathered in the kitchen, the place appeared empty.

  Though he took a risk by searching the duke’s home as the man could return at any time, Richard had hesitated to request assistance from any of his associates. This mission felt even more personal than it had the previous day. Knowing the duke had the gall to involve Caroline in danger angered Richard to no end. He feared his relationship with Caroline only put her in more danger. If Wayfair had proposed to her, he wouldn’t have insisted she deliver that book. Then again, she’d be marrying a traitor. Richard didn’t want that either.

  The idea he’d inadvertently placed her in harm’s way sickened him. Wayfair’s connection to Caroline plus Richard’s suspicion that the duke had murdered Dumond made this far too personal.

  The book had contained a coded message, just as he’d suspected. The message had been copied and even now was being studied by those at Whitehall who specialized in trying to break codes. The original had been returned to the book in the exact same place, folded the exact way he’d found it. He wanted the book to appear as it had when Wayfair had it delivered to Caroline.

  Now was the perfect time to search Wayfair’s home. And since Dumond’s death, Richard preferred to work alone.

  He entered the dark garden, grateful for the overcast sky to hide his entry. With a quick slip of his lock pick, he let himself in through a French door, pausing to listen as he stepped across the threshold.

  The darkness was complete. He couldn’t even tell what room he was in. Though he waited a few precious minutes to allow his eyes to adjust, it didn’t help. He retrieved the small candle he’d brought just in case and lit it with the contents of the small tinderbox he carried.

  “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. This wasn’t the library but rather a drawing room. He considered going back outside and trying another door toward the back of the house but instead decided to brave the hallway. He moved slowly, holding his candle aloft.

  The corridor was silent and he hurried along, quietly opening several doors before he found the library. He closed himself inside, glanced briefly about the room, then moved toward the desk. Though an obvious place to search, it was also the most logical for a person to hide anything.

  Remembering his mistake from the search of Stafford’s desk, he set the candle on the desk and started with the locked drawer. Using a combination of his knife and another pick, he po
pped open the lock, taking care not to scratch the wood.

  The drawer slid open soundlessly and held several papers. Keeping an eye on the door, he held the papers to the light. The top one was a letter from the East India Company, outlining the details of a shipping investment. The next also pertained to a business venture. The third was far more interesting, and Richard read it twice to commit the details to memory.

  Several others in the drawer offered clues to Wayfair’s ties to France but no proof. He did his best to memorize them but returned them to their place, not wanting to risk taking them and alert Wayfair someone had been here. The duke was cautious enough already.

  After several tries, he managed to reengage the lock then glanced through the other drawers. Nothing of interest caught his notice.

  The bottom drawer on the right side appeared oddly shallow. He felt each edge but couldn’t find anything that revealed a false panel. He knelt to search under the drawer, candle in hand, and found a slight indentation in the wood that gave forth when he pressed it.

  Only one envelope was inside the hidden panel. The oddly worded message caught his curiosity but Richard returned it to its place. The contents were vaguely familiar. Trying to process the information while in the duke’s library was far too dangerous. He had to trust the reference would come to him.

  Next he glanced through some of the bookshelves, checked under side tables and even under a plant or two but found nothing else. If the duke had hidden something more interesting in his house, it must be in his bedroom. Richard wasn’t willing to take the risk of searching there. Not tonight at any rate.

  He was already late for the Thompson gathering, at which Caroline mentioned she’d be.

  Even the thought of her had his heartbeat speeding more than breaking into the duke’s home had. The time they’d spent together had been pleasurable in unexpected ways. The feel of her in his arms, the conversations they’d shared, had given him a glimpse of what life might be like with her.

  As much as he treasured those moments, they were dangerous to his mission. They made him wonder if he could have a life with her if he survived his quest.

  Ifs had never before been part of his vocabulary.

  Those thoughts were unwelcome. Hope for the future only clouded the task before him. Hope might make him hesitate when the difficult moments came. Hesitation would make him fail.

  Dumond deserved justice; therefore, failure was not an option.

  Voices sounded in the hall and he feared he’d lingered too long. He snuffed out his candle, waving his hand in the air to displace the smell then debated whether to hide or attempt to let himself out a window. He opted to hide. The drapes pooled to the floor and would suffice to cover him from head to toe.

  He strode toward the window and shook out the heavy velvet fabric to hide his boots. The door opened and men’s voices echoed in the room.

  “He won’t miss a splash or two.”

  “We deserve some of the good stuff. We’ve been workin’ hard. Plus we be the ones to risk our necks gettin’ it.”

  The rattle of crystal from the sideboard followed their comments. Apparently Wayfair smuggled French brandy. The idea nearly made Richard smile. He doubted that was the duke’s only crime involving France.

  “Do ye smell somethin’?”

  “Like what?”

  “Almost smells like a candle was burnin’ but that can’t be.”

  “No one’s been in this room for well on two days.” But still Richard could hear them sniffing the air. Blast his need for light.

  “There’s no candle burnin’ in here. Must be the one from the hall driftin’ this way. Come now. Let us enjoy our drink.”

  The servants moved on, closing the door behind them, much to Richard’s relief.

  A few minutes later, he escaped through the garden, annoyed at himself for the near miss. Already thoughts of Caroline distracted him. Yet he had no idea how to stop them. She’d worked her way under his skin. He’d never felt this way about a woman before, not even Maria.

  But the distraction of Maria had gotten Dumond killed, and resulted in a near-miss for Richard.

  Should he find a way to cut himself off from Caroline, to sever this growing bond until he’d completed his mission?

  With a shake of his head, he realized it was too late for that. He was as duty-bound to protect her from ruin as he was to seek vengeance for Dumond. For now, he had to find a way to do both.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Caroline couldn’t quell her panic at the sight of the message that had just arrived. Though unmarked, she knew it was from the Duke of Wayfair. Three days had passed since that terrible afternoon at the bookshop. No doubt he’d returned to London and wanted his new book.

  Richard had given her the wrapped one, advising her that when Wayfair contacted her, she should explain the one she was supposed to receive hadn’t been ready. Along with the book, he’d given her specific instructions not to meet the duke alone.

  She’d known Wayfair would contact her, but knowing didn’t reduce her fear that he’d refuse to remain quiet about her father’s health since she hadn’t been able to do as he asked.

  Luckily, she was by herself in the drawing room, reviewing correspondence and didn’t have to hide her worry from her family.

  Fingers trembling, she opened the missive.

  Meet me at the Pantheon Bazaar this afternoon at two o’clock.

  W.

  Simple perhaps, yet still frightening. The idea of casually announcing to him that she’d failed seemed impossible. Especially when on the heels of that, she’d need to insist he hold his silence regarding her father’s condition. Since she hadn’t completed the mission, she had no way to convince the duke to keep her family’s secret.

  Richard had asked her to notify him as soon as the duke contacted her so he could accompany her. While grateful for his support, she didn’t see how he could help. He held no sway over the duke. In fact, she feared Richard’s presence would make Wayfair less likely to agree with her request.

  Richard might choose to confront Wayfair as to why he’d asked her to complete the exchange on his behalf. Part of her wanted him to, if only to show the duke she wasn’t unprotected. Yet she saw no way that would end well. Richard’s interference was more likely to anger Wayfair than warn him off.

  If she had to meet the duke, one of her sisters might be the best chaperone. With luck, Annabelle would be distracted enough by the sights of the Pantheon that she might not notice Caroline meeting with the duke or wonder about their conversation.

  The Pantheon Bazaar had originally been built as a theater then changed to a public assembly room where balls had been held. Financial troubles had forced its closure for some time until a few weeks ago when it reopened as a place for shoppers to find luxury goods. Even those not wishing to buy jewelry or clothes found plenty to hold their interest as a variety of novelty items were also offered for sale.

  Caroline hadn’t yet visited the bazaar but the idea of meeting in a public place that would be crowded made her feel safer.

  She hesitated as she reviewed the message, wondering if she should notify Richard after all. She still felt guilty over his being injured at the bookshop. Although she didn’t know why he’d been there, he surely wouldn’t have been stabbed if not for her.

  No. Including Richard held too much risk, plus his presence might anger Wayfair, which she’d prefer to not do. She hoped to convince the duke to keep her father’s failing health a secret.

  She needed to handle this herself. Richard was more than a cynical rogue, but despite his specific instructions as to how she should deal with the duke, he couldn’t possibly have any experience in situations such as this. It was too much to ask him to help her resolve this mess.

  Then why did a hollowness fill her at the idea of leaving him out of it?

  Annabelle was delighted at the idea of visiting the Pantheon, so delighted that Margaret decided she wanted to come along as well. The tim
e for the meeting quickly approached.

  Caroline hoped Annabelle and Margaret would keep each other distracted and allow Caroline to complete her conversation with the duke without issue. As long as they remained in the vicinity so Wayfair knew she wasn’t unaccompanied.

  How ironic that she’d followed the duke out to the garden at the ball only a few weeks ago and now the idea of being alone with him gave her the shivers.

  The main doorway of the Pantheon on Oxford Street was sheltered by a portico and already filled with people. A rotunda served as the great room, the architecture stunning. The barrel-vaulted ceiling gave an open, airy feeling to the building. Large potted ferns and colorful parrots on tall stands greeted new arrivals as they entered, lending an exotic feel.

  “Look at the blue in his feathers.” Annabelle moved to stand closer to one of the birds. “I’ve never seen such a bright color.”

  “Beautiful,” Margaret agreed. “Think of a silk gown in that shade. Can you imagine?”

  Caroline smiled at her sisters but was too nervous to truly appreciate the parrot or the other sights, all too aware of the weight of the book in her reticule.

  “Oh, look,” Annabelle declared. “They have monkeys here.”

  Margaret frowned as she followed Annabelle’s gaze. “The poor things, tied all day to that stand. They should be swinging from trees in the jungle, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, but I confess it’s still enjoyable to see them up close.”

  “Let us continue into the bazaar,” Caroline said as she studied the crowd for a sign of the duke.

  “I don’t understand what made you want to come here, Caroline.” Annabelle narrowed her eyes as she studied her.

  “I heard someone speak of it. I thought it would be interesting to browse through.” Caroline was careful not to look at her sister as she lied. Annabelle was far too observant and knew her too well.