Page 60

“They may suspect. They may whisper. But as long as they cannot prove it, we will remain untouchable.”

—Marian Fitzroy

J une had arrived fair and mild, fortunate news for the garden parties and parades planned in honour of the visiting sovereigns.

London was in such a stir that Queen Charlotte had taken a full two days to respond to Peregrine’s request for an audience with her and the Home Secretary.

When she finally had, the answer was brisk: he and the Duchess Atholl were to attend her at Buckingham House.

What Peregrine had not expected, however, was the Queen’s next move. After they made their formal obeisance, she dismissed her entire entourage with a flick of her fingers, leaving the room empty save for herself, Viscount Sidmouth, Charity, and Peregrine.

Then, at last, the Queen’s posture shifted as though she’d allowed herself, for a moment, to feel the weight of the past weeks.

“If I have learned anything of late,” she said, with a glance toward the now-empty room, “it is that matters concerning Lady Fitzroy have advanced beyond the reach of ceremony—and that trust has become a most rare commodity.” She folded her hands loosely.

“Without the burden of pomp, I hope we may speak more plainly. Given what so nearly befell Parliament, you may understand why neither Lord Sidmouth nor I have any interest in handing Lady Fitzroy a victory born of miscommunication.”

Sidmouth made a moue of agreement.

“I’m gratified to have your support, Your Majesty,” Perry said smoothly. “Though I confess, I’m somewhat surprised His Royal Highness is not party to this discussion.”

“Regrettably, my son’s attentions are rather consumed with both the visiting sovereigns and Princess Charlotte,” the Queen replied, her gaze shifting to Charity.

“You may have heard, Duchess, that Her Royal Highness has at last consented to the inevitability of a match with the Prince of Orange. The negotiations are progressing swiftly, and we hope to announce the engagement within a fortnight.”

“That is wonderful news, ma’am,” Charity said politely.

But Peregrine knew Charity too well to be misled by tone alone. Her posture told a different story entirely. Interesting .

He had known the princess detested the match, and he had believed Charity had been gently encouraging her to accept it. What he hadn’t realised was that Charity’s encouragement might have masked a deeper sympathy for the princess’s plight.

Queen Charlotte pressed her lips together, as though she too had caught the tension in Charity’s response.

But she chose not to remark on it. Instead, she turned back to Perry.

“I will say, Lord Fitzroy, I am relieved that you requested this meeting rather than forcing me to command it. There is much to be discussed between us, and while I may be your Queen, I suspect we shall fare far better if we proceed in cooperation. And that,” she added, her gaze steady, “requires that we are not working at cross purposes.”

Peregrine offered a brief, crooked smile. “If we are to speak plainly, ma’am, I confess I am still somewhat astonished to find myself newly admitted to the ranks of the trustworthy.”

“You have cheated death, what, six times now this month past?”

“I am afraid I have lost count,” he replied dryly.

“Ravenscroft said seven. And if you count the Nive, you’re down to the last of your nine lives, Fitzroy,” Sidmouth deadpanned, folding his arms over his chest. “Best guard it well.”

The Queen let out a breath. “You take my meaning. If you are not properly motivated to find your mother, no one will be.”

Peregrine inclined his head. “Before I forget, Sidmouth, on the subject of trust—I have a present for you.” But Perry made certain that he locked eyes with the Queen before he offered up the book in his hands to the home secretary.

Sidmouth took it from him, frowning as he opened it. “This…”

“It is Goldbourne’s ledger. The one I copied the list of names from, that gave us the list of forged bills. I was holding it while looking for some code or clue only I might understand, because of his relationship with my mother.”

From the corner of his eye, he caught Charity’s smile. It was a small, steady thing, but it cut through the noise in his head like sunlight through smoke.

Giving up the ledger felt oddly relieving, like some great pressure eased off his ribs. But he was wrestling hard with the unsettling vulnerability. It was like being caught out unarmed. Naked, even.

Fear had made a convincing case for keeping Goldbourne’s ledger.

He’d nearly listened, too. But Charity’s promise that the choice was his, that she would support him either way, felt like a burden of trust. It was even more important to make the right decision.

And the fearful way was not the right way.

At least, not this time.

The Queen, he saw, immediately understood the gesture he was making, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.

Sidmouth closed his hands over the ledger. “I appreciate you giving us this. We will also be examining it. Perhaps, if we are very lucky, we will find a better tie between Goldbourne and your mother’s money.”

“I would not hold onto false hope, were I you, Sidmouth.” In the days since Chandros’ death, Peregrine had scoured the ledger from cover to cover, looking for such a sign. “But of course, you are welcome to try your hand at it.”

Sidmouth’s expression was regretful, and Peregrine felt a stab of it himself. “That’s a pity,” the home secretary said. “Because without it, we have not a whisper of evidence with which to convict Marian Fitzroy of any crime at all—much less treason.”

Charity looked ill, and Perry guessed she was thinking about how her kidnapping at his ball had been one such piece of proof.

Concealed for her own protection. “Nothing at all ?” she asked.

“Not from Sir David’s confession, or Grace’s word?

Half the ton has been calling Peregrine the son of a traitor this season. ”

“Gossip is not proof. You already knew that my hands were bound when you showed up at my door with the wild tale of your kidnapping,” Queen Charlotte said, letting her fingers rest against her temples.

“Even if you and your companions were prepared to suffer the result of confessing the truth of what had happened, it would have been a pointless sacrifice. Difficult enough to get the House of Lords to put one of their own on trial. They would not be willing to accept your words as proof. Especially for a conviction in absentia.”

“But I thought for certain Sir David’s confession would have some weight,” Charity asked .

Sidmouth disagreed. “A man caught red-handed in a crime? Any competent defender would simply argue that he was attempting to put the blame on a woman, and a woman who was not even there to protect herself, at that.”

“And Chandros and Goldbourne scrubbed the slate well enough that we wouldn’t even be able to tie her to owning the Scarlet Jack, much less a high offence,” Peregrine added.

Charity let out a small, disbelieving laugh, putting her hands to her cheeks. “So not only do we have to find your mother, we have to gather irrefutable proof that she is a criminal.”

Perry gave her a faint smile meant to reassure, though he felt the weight of it just as keenly. What lay ahead pressed heavy on them both. “One problem at a time, Sparkles,” he whispered, low enough for her alone.

“Does that mean what I hope it means?” Queen Charlotte’s gaze flicked between them. “That even without a royal command, you still intend to pursue Lady Fitzroy’s whereabouts? Because I see no reason to believe she intends to live out her days quietly on the Continent.”

“It would seem, ma’am, that my hopes of dying in old age may rather depend on it,” Peregrine said, cynicism twisting his mouth. “And not mine alone. Mother’s black list is growing longer by the day.”

The Queen shifted, her expression tightening. “It unsettles me deeply to think she would shake Parliament itself. To aid a foreign power while undermining her homeland. Treachery of the most chilling kind.”

“An exchange with whomever is sheltering her,” Sidmouth suggested, steepling his fingers.

“They may think twice if the alternative is being branded an enemy of England. But I doubt they’d consider it for anything less, especially with the conferences looming, and the temptation to gain an advantage there. ”

Disorientation caught Perry, enough to stir that old, unsteady sense of shifting sand beneath his feet. The creeping feeling that he was a few steps behind. He thought of how his mother never moved without purpose and never wasted a gesture that didn’t serve her ambition.

His mother, who had been so silent in his head these past few days, chuckled softly, in agreement.

Queen Charlotte regarded him, her face expressionless. “First things first,” she said calmly. “I want that woman found so we may know precisely what we are dealing with. Only then can we decide what must come next. Tell me, Lord Fitzroy, what can I do to assist your search?”

“Whoever is harbouring my mother will arrive with the other sovereigns,” Peregrine said evenly.

“These scandals were crafted as public humiliations. My mother’s vanity would insist on an audience capable of appreciating her genius.

There’s little satisfaction for a benefactor in hearing of one’s triumph weeks later by letter when they might witness the calamity firsthand. ”

He glanced at Charity, who was looking down at the floor, her brows furrowed.

Feeling his gaze, she lifted her head and addressed the Queen. “We need access to the delegations, Your Majesty. Not just the sovereigns, but all their ilk. With all of us working together, we can cast a wider net.”