Conspiracy Of Hearts

Lord Carberry halted and turned sharply. ‘You are?’

‘Yes. He came to see Father yesterday to purchase some of his horses. After staying overnight Lord Brodie rode to Woodfield Grange with Father for the hunting.’

Lord Carberry went white. ‘Did he, by God!’ he responded explosively, his face reddening to the colour of a cock’s comb.

‘Yes,’ Serena replied, undeterred and secretly amused by her uncle’s irate response. After what Dorothea had told her about her uncle’s unease following reports about the subversive company Lord Brodie often kept, she could well imagine what horrors must be passing through his mind on being told that his future son-in-law was cavorting about the countryside in the company of some of the most notable Catholic gentlemen in the land.

‘Lord Brodie shares Father’s enthusiasm for hunting and was reluctant to forgo an opportunity to indulge his passion for the sport in this part of Warwickshire, where, as you know, Uncle, some of the finest hunting is to be enjoyed.’

‘And no doubt Henry gave Brodie every encouragement,’ her uncle growled with heavy criticism, not missing Serena’s subtle gibe as he opened the door. His bushy eyebrows drew closer together when he realised his niece was making light of the situation. But it would be wrong of him to unleash his anger on her for Lord Brodie’s misdemeanours.

‘The enjoyment is lessened if the company is not to one’s liking,’ he went on. ‘It is my opinion that Lord Brodie should stop his foolery and would be better off employed elsewhere. There are those who would be more discriminating than to value the presence of subversives in their midst.’

Lord Carberry retreated to his study, unaware of the unspoken words of indignation that tempted Serena’s tongue, for she knew perfectly well that her uncle considered her father to be one of those subversives. But however much she wanted to speak out in defence of her father and their faith, she must not forget that she was a guest in her uncle’s house. Any protestations she might make would promptly be considered by him to be of a quarrelsome nature, and he would lose no time in having her dispatched back to Dunedin Hall. This would serve no purpose and only succeed in upsetting Dorothea and angering her own father.

Lord Carberry’s sense of disquiet where the marquess was concerned increased by the minute, for it was becoming more apparent to him that he could not be trusted. However, feeling the need for caution, he decided not to raise the matter with the marquess until he had met with Sir Thomas Blackwell. There was no need to upset the apple cart altogether in case Sir Thomas did not find the idea of marriage to Dorothea agreeable and no other suitor was forthcoming.

Lord Brodie and Sir Ludovick Lamont, with their two respective servants, arrived at Carberry Hall on horseback. They were not expected for several hours. Lord Carberry had not yet returned home from visiting an acquaintance the previous day, which meant Dorothea would have to receive her betrothed alone. She was reluctant to meet Lord Brodie—and so was Serena, but for diffent reasons.

If it were not for the fact that the cold fingers of apprehension continued to claw at Serena over her father’s activities of late, making her want to ask Lord Brodie if he’d had the opportunity of speaking to him on the matter, nothing would have tempted her to await his arrival, even at the risk of disappointing Dorothea.

Lord Brodie stepped into the hall with an arrogant stride, and when Serena’s eyes travelled surreptitiously over him, it was blatantly obvious that he had much to be arrogant about. She noted with some surprise and annoyance the warmth that sprung to her cheeks and how her heartbeat quickened its pace at his presence.

Kit’s dark eyes flicked over both young women, locking briefly with Serena’s, who felt the impact of his ruthless vitality and pride, but it was on Dorothea that his gaze settled and softened.

Because he wanted to pursue a military career, Kit had always avoided marriage but, when his cousin had died and he had inherited Thurlow in Northamptonshire, at thirty years old he had considered it time he settled down and had put his mind to finding a wife. On meeting Dorothea, he had been appreciative of her in every aspect, and decided that she was a prize worth seeking. Lord Carberry had encouraged the match, and Kit was pleased that he did not insist on a long courtship, for he was impatient to take her to Thurlow. Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips.

‘Dorothea! You are well, I trust?’

Dorothea flushed, her serious expression lightening. ‘Perfectly, my lord,’ she murmured shyly. ‘But you are early. Your arrival has taken us by surprise. My father is not here to greet you.’

‘Think nothing of it.’ Kit smiled, his eyes twinkling. ‘I was impatient to see you. I would have sent a note but it would have been a waste of time. The note and I would have arrived together.’

Dorothea turned to Serena, who had taken a stance a little behind her. ‘Serena,’ she said, ‘you remember Lord Brodie.’

Serena stepped forward, her heart tripping a beat when she looked up into the handsome visage, struck by his stern profile. The strength of Lord Brodie’s gaze held hers, and for the first time she had a glimpse of hidden qualities that would delight the senses, but quickly dismissed the thought. It was out of keeping with what she really thought of him.

‘Of course. How good to see you again, my lord.’

‘It is a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Carberry. You are more charming than I remember.’

Kit’s tone was natural yet formal—almost ceremonial, Serena thought, experiencing a twinge of disappointment.

Kit turned to his companion. ‘May I introduce a good friend of mine, Sir Ludovick Lamont. Ludovick this is Dorothea, my betrothed—and this is Mistress Serena Carberry, Dorothea’s cousin,’ he said after Ludovick had bowed over Dorothea’s hand.

Serena turned her attention to the flaxen-haired gentleman, whose eyes swept over her appraisingly before giving her a decorous, courtly bow. She smiled charmingly.

Ludovick had been unable to take his eyes off Serena since entering the hall. At first he could only stare in mute appreciation—which was peculiar in one usually so bold. Sunlight lancing through the windows drenched her in its glow, caressing and playing on every delectable hill and hollow of her body. He noted her rich abundance of deep auburn hair and large green eyes staring calmly out of a face unblemished and milky smooth, and he found it hard to identify her with the young woman Kit had described to him on their journey to Carberry Hall.

Kit had informed him that she was exceedingly pretty and unattached. When Ludovick had raised an interested brow, his friend had laughed and warned him in mocking tones that it would take a courageous man to take on Serena Carberry. In Kit’s opinion she had more mettle than most maids, and was a veritable virago when provoked. Kit had told him jestingly that while he was still in one piece it might be advisable to bypass Carberry Hall after all and continue on their way to Thurlow.

Seeing her in the flesh, Ludovick was all admiration and cocked a practised eye, happily relieved that he’d agreed to accompany Kit instead of returning to London as he had originally planned to do after the hunt. Had he done so, he would have missed the opportunity of meeting this gorgeous creature.

‘It’s indeed an honour to make your acquaintance, Mistress Carberry,’ Ludovick said warmly, bent on winning this beauty for himself. Her smile melted his bones.

Serena considered him to be a buoyant, truly debonair young gentleman, with a bold look not unlike that of Lord Brodie’s. His fine apparel, which was the height of fashion, lent him a rakish look. She already knew he was a Scot, so his accent—which was not as pronounced as some she had heard, and was derided by many in England who considered it uncouth—came as no surprise. Prior to his arrival at Carberry Hall, Dorothea had told her he had come south on King James’s accession to the English throne, and that he was highly thought of by Their Majesties. Having been a member of their inner circle for many years, like most of the Scots who had come with the king and been given lavish positions of advancements at court, he was extremely unpopular.

Sir Ludovick was not as tall as Lord Brodie and was a little heavier and perhaps a few years younger, Serena thought. Unlike Lord Brodie, who was clean shaven, he sported a small, neatly trimmed square beard and moustache. There was an open honesty in his face and humour in his firm lips, and a quiet amusement in his alert blue gaze that could not fail to draw one’s attention.

Serena liked him at once. Experiencing a spirit of mischief and moved by some feminine impulse of coquetry, she favoured him with a dazzling smile, without realising how devastatingly lovely she looked to the scowling marquess.

Kit noticed that she was much taken with Ludovick. Having drawn back a little, he watched his friend’s unabashed perusal of Serena with a cocked eyebrow and a careless arrogance to hide a perplexing emotion that troubled him. His irritation began to stir against Ludovick—a man he had been at Cambridge with and who had remained his closest friend ever since. He took stock of this latest feeling, for it surprised him. It was not a feeling he was familiar with, and nor was it one he liked.

‘And I imagined life would be dull in Warwickshire,’ laughed Ludovick good-humouredly. ‘I came to partake of a spot of hunting to enjoy the freedom and escape the confining, plague-ridden city for a few days, expecting to be bored witless and to find the company stilted, yet I have been pleasurably surprised. Not only did I find the hunting splendid—but the company gets better all the time,’ he said meaningfully as his eyes quite shockingly raked Serena in her buttercup-yellow gown. ‘Your beauty slays me, Mistress Carberry.’