Read Online The Mayfair Affair by Tracy Grant - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tracy Grant
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Romance, Historical, Mystery & Detective, Regency, Historical Romance, 19th century, Regency Romance, Historical Mystery, Historical Suspense, 19th_century_setting, historical mystery series
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the villa in Italy. I'll meet you there if we aren't able to travel together."
She stared into his eyes, seeing a future she had not let herself contemplate. She had always thought if she ever had to flee Britain, their marriage would have unraveled to the point where Malcolm would have no desire to go with her. Instead, here he was calmly talking about giving up the home he loved, the political career he was building, contact with his family and friends. She swallowed, tasting the ashes of what they had lost. "You don't want to leave—"
"Dunmykel? The House of Commons? No. But if it comes to them versus my wife, it's no contest."
She could scarcely imagine a stronger declaration of love. It slashed through her corset laces like a knife cutting her to the bone. "I never wanted—"
"I know. You weren't thinking about these issues at all. It's collateral damage." His arm still round her shoulders, he reached for her hand and carried it to his lips. Then he turned back to Raoul, who had been observing them in silence. "I can count on you to assist Suzanne should it prove necessary?"
"Of course."
Suzanne straightened her shoulders. "I don't need—"
"You don't have the benefit of being a duke's grandson. But if it makes you feel better, you can ask O'Roarke to assist me should it prove necessary."
"It's prudent," Raoul said. "Very likely it won't come to that, but one needs an escape plan. It's no more than we did in the Peninsula."
But that had been a more day-to-day existence somehow. A less settled life, so escape had seemed not so much a question of turning one's back on all one knew. She managed a smile, feeling the weight of the risk they would live with for the rest of their lives. Assuming they managed not to get caught. "Do you know what was in this folder Trenchard wanted me to retrieve from Carfax?" she asked.
"Not without looking at it." Malcolm squeezed her fingers and reached for his whisky glass. "It seems even without Trenchard we're going to have to retrieve the folder."
Suzanne stared at her husband. The British agent she had spied on for two and a half years. "Malcolm, are you telling me to break into Carfax's study?"
"No, I'll do it. I have a better idea of where to look and I can explain more easily if I'm caught."
"Darling—"
"Besides, I'm not quite ready to loose a former Bonapartist agent on the chief of British Intelligence."
"It's not that. But are you sure—"
"We can't very well ask Carfax for the folder in the circumstances, and we need to get a look at it to see why Trenchard wanted it. If Lady Carfax doesn't cancel her musicale this evening, I'll slip down then. You can keep an eye on Carfax in the drawing room."
"I can do that," Raoul said. When Malcolm looked at him in surprise, he added, "I received an invitation. A thank-you for my supposed service in the Peninsula. Or a way of keeping an eye on a dangerous Radical, or perhaps a bit of both. In any case, if you'll trust me to keep Carfax occupied, Suzanne can go with you and keep watch while you search the study. It's a safer mission for two."
For a moment Suzanne thought Malcolm would protest that he didn't want either of them remotely involved in searching Carfax's study, but instead he inclined his head. "Thank you."
Two words Suzanne had thought might never again pass between the two men. The air in the room seemed suddenly still, fragile glass laid over the tangled abyss between the three of them. "We should look at Laura's room," she said.
Malcolm nodded and cast a glance at Raoul. "You might as well come with us, O'Roarke. You're already in the middle of this."
"You're sure?" Raoul asked.
Malcolm regarded his father. "As sure as I am of anything with you. I much prefer it to you scaling the walls of our house and breaking in."
Suzanne hesitated before the white-painted door to the room between the night and day nurseries that had been Laura's since they moved into the Berkeley Square house. "It feels like an
She stared into his eyes, seeing a future she had not let herself contemplate. She had always thought if she ever had to flee Britain, their marriage would have unraveled to the point where Malcolm would have no desire to go with her. Instead, here he was calmly talking about giving up the home he loved, the political career he was building, contact with his family and friends. She swallowed, tasting the ashes of what they had lost. "You don't want to leave—"
"Dunmykel? The House of Commons? No. But if it comes to them versus my wife, it's no contest."
She could scarcely imagine a stronger declaration of love. It slashed through her corset laces like a knife cutting her to the bone. "I never wanted—"
"I know. You weren't thinking about these issues at all. It's collateral damage." His arm still round her shoulders, he reached for her hand and carried it to his lips. Then he turned back to Raoul, who had been observing them in silence. "I can count on you to assist Suzanne should it prove necessary?"
"Of course."
Suzanne straightened her shoulders. "I don't need—"
"You don't have the benefit of being a duke's grandson. But if it makes you feel better, you can ask O'Roarke to assist me should it prove necessary."
"It's prudent," Raoul said. "Very likely it won't come to that, but one needs an escape plan. It's no more than we did in the Peninsula."
But that had been a more day-to-day existence somehow. A less settled life, so escape had seemed not so much a question of turning one's back on all one knew. She managed a smile, feeling the weight of the risk they would live with for the rest of their lives. Assuming they managed not to get caught. "Do you know what was in this folder Trenchard wanted me to retrieve from Carfax?" she asked.
"Not without looking at it." Malcolm squeezed her fingers and reached for his whisky glass. "It seems even without Trenchard we're going to have to retrieve the folder."
Suzanne stared at her husband. The British agent she had spied on for two and a half years. "Malcolm, are you telling me to break into Carfax's study?"
"No, I'll do it. I have a better idea of where to look and I can explain more easily if I'm caught."
"Darling—"
"Besides, I'm not quite ready to loose a former Bonapartist agent on the chief of British Intelligence."
"It's not that. But are you sure—"
"We can't very well ask Carfax for the folder in the circumstances, and we need to get a look at it to see why Trenchard wanted it. If Lady Carfax doesn't cancel her musicale this evening, I'll slip down then. You can keep an eye on Carfax in the drawing room."
"I can do that," Raoul said. When Malcolm looked at him in surprise, he added, "I received an invitation. A thank-you for my supposed service in the Peninsula. Or a way of keeping an eye on a dangerous Radical, or perhaps a bit of both. In any case, if you'll trust me to keep Carfax occupied, Suzanne can go with you and keep watch while you search the study. It's a safer mission for two."
For a moment Suzanne thought Malcolm would protest that he didn't want either of them remotely involved in searching Carfax's study, but instead he inclined his head. "Thank you."
Two words Suzanne had thought might never again pass between the two men. The air in the room seemed suddenly still, fragile glass laid over the tangled abyss between the three of them. "We should look at Laura's room," she said.
Malcolm nodded and cast a glance at Raoul. "You might as well come with us, O'Roarke. You're already in the middle of this."
"You're sure?" Raoul asked.
Malcolm regarded his father. "As sure as I am of anything with you. I much prefer it to you scaling the walls of our house and breaking in."
Suzanne hesitated before the white-painted door to the room between the night and day nurseries that had been Laura's since they moved into the Berkeley Square house. "It feels like an
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