Page 49 of An Alleged Rogue

If possible, the warmth in her cheeks redoubled. “That was presumptuous,” she said.

“I disagree. It was very generous.”

Phoebe took an uneasy breath. Her face surely resembled one of Lord Dunsbourne’s reddest apples by now, but there was nothing more to be done than to push on. “Then I hope you will allow me to visit your sister on occasion.”

He inclined his head. “You are welcome at Dunsbourne Manor anytime, Miss Hadford.”

Phoebe’s relief was manifest in an instant smile. “Thank you, my lord.”

“The apple harvest begins in earnest tomorrow, so I will likely be away from the house when you come. I apologize ahead of time.”

She shook her head. “I think we have both exhausted our need to apologize to each other.”

“Fair enough.” The sound of a carriage rumbling down the drive reached them, and he stepped toward the stable doors. “Good day, Miss Hadford.”

“Good day, my lord.”

Freddie was beginning to think Bertrand was a permanent fixture at White’s. No matter what time of day Freddie stopped by, the old codger was sitting in the same chair with a newspaper in his hand and a glass of brandy at his side. Freddie usually avoided people who could place him at a certain location on a regular basis. Flitting in and out of establishments without being noticed was one of his specialties. But Bertrand was different. He could be used.

“Good day, my lord.” Freddie greeted him with a smile.

“Wilmott. Nice to see you. Take a seat.”

The chair across from Bertrand was starting to feel like his own.

“What do we have to complain about today?” Freddie asked, pointing to the viscount’s newspaper.

“All the fuss being made over William Brodie going to trial in Edinburgh.” He shook his head, causing his white wig to shift. “Stuff and nonsense. There are far more important things to worry about.”

“Such as?”

“Well, the triple alliance between the Brits, Prussia, and the Dutch Republic, of course.”

“Of course.” Freddie mentally filed away that piece of information. Alliances tended to influence investments—particularly if they led to war.

“Those Russians simply cannot be trusted.”

“Absolutely not.” Freddie struck a pensive pose. “The Dutch Republic though. A bit weak, wouldn’t you say?” It was complete gibberish, but Bertrand did not seem to care or know better.

“Undoubtedly. But they would never admit to it.”

“That friend of yours—Mr. Hadford, I think his name was—he would be anxious to hear your opinion of the Dutch. He seemed quite keen on investing over there.”

“Yes, quite.” The viscount frowned. “Haven’t seen him for a bit though. He lives in Berkshire, you see. Only comes into Town occasionally.”

Freddie forced a smile even as his frustration mounted. The forged letter supposedly from Willem den Haan was in his pocket. He simply needed Hadford to make an appearance at White’s for his plan to roll forward. He had waited long enough already. His finances were depleting, and he was more than ready to replenish them.

“Any idea when he might be back?”

“It would not surprise me at all if he showed up in the next week or two.” Bertrand flipped the newspaper over and studied another article. “Another ship is due in from the West Indies, and Hadford quite often arrives when they unload cargo at the dock.”

Freddie mulled this new information, his irritation ebbing. A man with so many business interests was undoubtedly worth the wait. A few more strategically placed forged notes would enable him to get by until Hadford showed up. But at his first sighting of the gentleman, Freddie would make his move.

Chapter 16

Adam stood with his hands on his hips and his head back. He could barely see Weston through the apple tree’s dense foliage. The village boy was as agile as a monkey and had no fear of climbing to the top of the trees to harvest the apples. Already this morning, he had filled four large baskets with the crop from this tree.

“Watch yourself up there, lad. You can shake down the ones that are too hard to reach.”