Page 54 of Vying for a Viscount
“Timothy Burke.”
“Who gave you the pistol and told you to shoot the Prince Regent?”
The prisoner looked up, his eyes glowing white in the lantern light. “It be mine.”
Greyson knew Knight could be ruthless, but for some reason he wasn’t tonight. “I don’t believe you. As a farmer, it would take a year’s profit to buy such a fine pistol.”
“I won’t tell you nothing,” he spat.
“If you don’t, you’ll hang.”
“I’ll hang anyway.”
“Let me tell you something,” Knight said. “The Prince Regent is trying to keep his subjects safe. He is trying to stop these rebellions before they begin. Not because he fears for his own safety, but because he fears for his subjects’. He doesn’t want bloodshed. He is trying to prevent it. We,” he said, pointing from Greyson to himself, “are trying to help those marching toward London to see that nothing but arrests and bloodshed will come of it. That is the last thing the Regent wants.His heart breaks when his subjects die for the greed of others who instigate these rebellions. Those who create these uprisings don’t march alongside you. They are snakes that slither and hide.”
“I’m still not talking.”
“Fine. But know that my people will continue to prevent farmers like you from ending up in jail or, worse, hanged. And know that we will do anything in our power to make your troubles heard.”
Knight banged on the iron bars to get the guard’s attention. He unlocked the gate and let them out. Back inside his carriage, Knight said, “I fear more marches are ahead. But what bothers me is that he had a pistol, and he was alone. Large crowds can get unruly, but one man can move stealthily and undetected. Prinny was lucky tonight. He’s expecting me back to report to him in the morning. I’ll tell him of my fears and advise him to increase his Dragoons’ security. Meanwhile, I’ll drop you off and go home myself. We both could use some sleep.”
“You’re right.” The rest of the ride was silent, and Greyson found himself nodding off to the sound of the horses’ hooves.
“Greyson, wake up.” Knight’s voice startled him.
“Sorry.”
The carriage stopped in front of Danbury Hall. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Anytime. Meeting tomorrow at noon. Let’s hope more Black Knights have returned.”
“Yes.” Greyson let himself out and hurried into his family’s home as the sky began to lighten with the approach of dawn. Exhausted, he slowly made his way to his chambers. He fell back on his bed, clothes and all, and slipped into a deep slumber.
Chapter Nineteen
After Greyson left,Letitia climbed out of bed, slipped into her dressing room, and put on a night rail. Back in bed, she couldn’t sleep despite being exhausted. She kept thinking about Greyson’s father. Had he died, making Greyson the Earl of Danbury? She couldn’t imagine calling him Danbury instead of Greyson. If her prayers were answered, his father would remain alive.
Lying on her side, she’d wanted to celebrate when Greyson told her he loved her. But now, given the circumstances surrounding his father’s health, she couldn’t. It didn’t seem proper. After a while, her eyes closed. The last thing she remembered before sleep came was hoping to receive a note from him the next morning with favorable news.
The sun peeked through the curtains the next morning as she awoke. The day looked promising weather-wise, but her thoughts were somber, wondering whether Greyson’s father had died. If she didn’t receive a note from him soon, she would write one asking about his father’s health. Otherwise, she would worry all day. If the worst happened, would he welcome a visit from her? Would he prefer to mourn alone with his family? “Stop,” she said to herself. Stop wondering what he will or will not want. It was foolish, since nothing could be done now.
How difficult it must be for a title to pass from father to son,knowing someone had died for it. All the felicitations to the recipient of the new title, while the recipient mourned the loss of a loved one or family member, felt contradictory. She certainly didn’t envy Greyson and his future title of earl.
“Good morning, my lady,” Jane said as she entered, carrying her breakfast tray and placing it on the table beside her chaise longue. Recently, it had become normal for her to break her fast in her chambers instead of the morning room.
“Good morning, Jane.” She climbed out of bed, put on her robe, and sat on the chaise longue, fixing a cup of tea. As she sipped, she heard Jane tidying her chambers and wondered whether she should mention last night. She trusted Jane and all her servants. However, she’d never had a man in her bed before. Not since Rutherford. “Jane. About last night.”
“You needn’t worry, my lady. I will never speak of it. Only Mr. Henry and I know the viscount was here, and you can trust him.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“I will return shortly to help you prepare for your day.”
“Thank you.” Letitia said, setting her empty teacup and saucer on the tray. Then she picked up a cold piece of toast with raspberry jam and nibbled it, trying to catch the crumbs as they fell. After another piece of toast, she brushed the dry crumbs from her lap, stood, and made her way to the large window facing the street, pushing the curtains aside. She should go for a walk to clear her head, but she didn’t have the energy. Instead, feeling restless and unwilling to wait another moment to hear from Greyson, she sat at her dressing table, which doubled as a writing desk, and penned a note to Greyson inquiring about his father’s health. When she finished, she rang for a footman and handed him the note. “Please have this delivered immediately.”
“Yes, my lady,” he said, bowing and hurrying off.
She spent an hour with Simon, then did some embroidery untilluncheon was served in the family drawing room.
