The Compromised Duchess

The Compromised Duchess- Internal matters

CHAPTER SIX

“I want you to find that woman” Lord Nottingham said, leaning back against his chair and taking a puff of his cigar.

“The mistress?” Lord Grayson turned from the window to regard the Prime Minister. “Sir Crowley`s mistress?”

Lord Nottingham nodded and expelled a wisp of smoke towards the ceiling. “More importantly, I want those papers recovered before the meeting. My sources inform me she was last seen in West bury I want you to personally see to it that she is apprehended.”

Grayson turned back to the window and clasped his hands behind his back. He stared at the extensive grounds of prime minister’s town house, his mind on the encounter with Lady Laurel. A wry smile crossed his lips as he remembered the way she had confronted him. He had a sudden desire to see her again, but he knew it would be absolute foolishness to do so. He pushed the thought from his mind and turned to face Nottingham, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“You want me to prowl the streets like a commoner looking for a woman, who is probably half way around the world in the arms of another lover?” He shook his head and laughed. “You know, we have men for this kind of activity”

The Prime Minister sat forward and regarded him. Even at fifty-five, Lord Nottingham still had the shrewd, intelligent hawk-like features that had made him one of the most powerful men in all of England and Ireland, famed for his uncanny ability to pierce right into a man’s soul and dig out even the most closely guarded secrets.

“I hear you had an altercation with Rosehaven two days ago” He said softly, “You must be careful, Thomas, Rosehaven is not the sort of man you take lightly. Remember, he still blames you for Cecily’s death.”

“Then the feeling is mutual” Grayson said, his fist clenched in anger. “I also blame myself for allowing her to associate with that scoundrel. He convinced me that he loved her, and like a fool, I believed his lies. If I had intervened, she would not be dead.”

“You were a young lad then, if I recall... barely twenty two and you had just assumed the title and the responsibility of a young ward. No one blames you.”

“Still, ignorance is not a excuse.” Grayson said. “Now he thinks I am after his new conquest, Lady Laurel Abbington.”

“Ah...” Nottingham nodded thoughtfully, “The Abbington chit. She is currently the rage among the young men. My son, Jack, always speaks so highly of her. I hope she has the sense to stay away from Rosehaven.”

“Hard to tell with these young ladies nowadays” Grayson replied chuckling, “ I hear the Dowager Duchess is quite formidable, perhaps Lady Laurel takes after her mother.”

“Perhaps..” Nottingham said thoughtfully, “ Now back to those papers. I trust you have a plan on how we can recover them safely?”

“I shall put Everton on it. He has contacts in the streets and at the docks.” Grayson replied, “Meanwhile, I would like to visit the Baron’s widow, perhaps she can provide us with some useful information.”

“Of course” Nottingham nodded in approval. “May I remind you that the meeting with the French takes place in a fortnight? I want those papers found in time, Thomas, don’t fail.”

Lord Grayson, nodded and turned towards the door, pausing by the coat rack to retrieve his coat and top hat. “A fortnight is all I need”

Lord Giles paused before the ornately carved front door of the Trevelyan mansion and shifted the huge bouquet of red roses to his left hand, freeing the right to use the brass knocker. It was opened almost immediately by the butler, a tall, distinguished looking man, who discreetly invited him into the large hallway and took his coat, and calling card.

“Is Lady Laurel here?” Lord Giles asked, following the butler into a tastefully furnished morning room.

“Yes, My Lord” The Butler replied, motioning him to a stiff-backed “ She and the Lady Abbington are currently in the Green Room, I shall inform them of your presence. Excuse me My Lord”

Lord Giles nodded curtly and dismissed him with a wave of the hand, then proceeded to inspect the morning room. He examined the delicate renaissance furniture, and the tiny sculptures atop the ornate mantel. The room was rather warm as a result of the fire that burned brightly. He grimaced and fiddled with his cravat. Apparently, the Abbington household preferred things hot and toasty.

The door was opened again by the butler, and Lord Giles turned in time to see Lady Laurel sweep regally into the room, with her maid in tow, wearing a very fetching pale blue morning gown that did wonders for her figure. He gave an elegant bow and took her outstretched hand to press a kiss on it.

“Lady Laurel, I must confess, you look very elegant today.” He said, “Allow me to write a sonnet in your honor and recite it in front of the whole world.”

Laurel laughed and blushed prettily, “ What nonsense you speak, My Lord, really, a sonnet in my honor would elicit mockery and laughter among members of the ton.”

“They would not dare to laugh in your presence” He asserted firmly, “They would worship at your feet the same as I.”

Laurel giggled and instructed her maid to ring for some tea and scones, then moved to sit on one of the stiff-backed chairs. Lord Giles took a seat across from her, then reached for the flowers and presented them to her.

“Oh my!” Laurel gasped, taking the bouquet and sniffing appreciatively at the fragrance. “This is simply lovely Lord Giles. How thoughtful of you.” She rose and placed the flowers in an empty glass vase, no doubt kept there for that very purpose, inhaling their scent once again. “I love red roses, they are so vibrant and magnificent.”

“But even roses would pale before your magnificence, Lady Laurel” Lord Giles replied, tugging impatiently at his cravat again.

Laurel blushed and resumed her seat. “I must beg your forgiveness for leaving the ball so abruptly, I was most overcome by a headache.”

Yes... Lord Giles thought viciously, that and a certain cretin whom you shamelessly threw yourself at. He schooled his features so it would not give away the viciousness of his thoughts. Aloud he said, “I`m very sorry to hear that My Lady. I hope you are quite well now?”

“Oh much so...thank you” Laurel replied. There was a discreet knock on the door, then it was opened by a footman bearing a heavy tray laden with tea things and hot scones and tea cakes, accompanied by the butler, who took the tray from the footman and placed it on a small table beside Laurel. Then after ascertaining that the lady required nothing more, he withdrew with the footman, quietly closing the door behind him. Laurel busied herself with the tray.

“Would you like one or two sugars Lord Giles?” She asked with elaborate politeness

“One please, thank you.” Lord Giles detested tea, but he knew it would be impolite to refuse his hostess.

Laurel picked the tongs and placed one sugar in his tea, then handed the dainty cup to him. He accepted it as well as the plate of scones, which he ate with relish. He stole a glance at the maid who had withdrawn to a far corner of the room, and was now deeply engrossed in her needlework, then set down the tea and leaned close so they would not be overheard,

“About the kiss, Lady Laurel, I am still eagerly awaiting your opinion.”

Laurel blushed and set down her own tea, then looked pointedly at the maid. “Please, Lord Giles, not here. I beg you.”

He fought down a thread of impatience, and smiled back. “Where would you suggest?”

“Hyde park perhaps?” She suggested, surprised at his eagerness, “Can we meet in an hour?”

“An hour would be fine, Lady Laurel,” He rose, and brushed crumbs from his breeches. “Shall I call round with my carriage?”

Laurel rose too and held out her hand in farewell, “I shall be waiting in earnest. Till we meet again Lord Giles.”

He kissed the outstretched hand and bowed a goodbye. In the hall, the butler was waiting with his coat and hat, then led him out the door.