She sighed. “I fear I couldn’t live there. I could rent it out.”
Her father shoved some papers across the scarred surface of the desk. “Read those while I ascertain why Lord St. Just saw fit to visit us this morning.”
“It’s about the house,” he said, “or I wouldn’t have intruded.”
Claudia picked up the first paper. Her hand trembled. Would he tell them? “I wouldn’t have thought such a modest establishment would interest you, my lord.”
If he detected the warning in her tone, he ignored it. “I think the information you have will explain my presence here.”
It would. Silently she handed him the first paper while she read the next one. The note informed Lord Strenshall that the suspicious activity concerning the house in Hart Street was confirmed. That was all. The second sheet was damning. It recorded the activities of one CJES, who could be none other than Charles James Edward Stuart on his visit to London two years ago. The address in Hart Street featured three times.
“Explain.” Lord Strenshall leaned back in the chair.
Marcus leaned against the bookcase behind him, while Val and Darius stood to one side.
Sometimes she hated that her family members were all so damned intelligent. She could never slip any subterfuge past them, although she’d tried often enough.
Dominic still stood close to her. He took the second document when she gave it to him.
Claudia took her time reading all six documents. They told a similar story. The house was a place where known Jacobites met. The authorities were leaving it alone because it was a useful fount of knowledge. They had not tried to infiltrate it or let the occupants know that they knew about it. But it had been a hotbed of sedition for at least five years.
Now it belonged to Claudia.
Dominic dropped the papers back on the desk. “I’m working for the government,” he said.
“Does that mean you’ll report anything we decide back to your masters?” Val shoved a hand into the pocket of his dark brown coat.
Dominic showed no alarm, even though Val could have his hand wrapped around a weapon. He put one hand on the back of her chair, as if protecting her. The gesture made her feel absurdly safe.
Today Dominic was all dandy, but she didn’t assume his foppishness was anything but faked. Perhaps he was a little less primped than he’d been the other day, his clothes less gaudy, maroon rather than crimson, buff rather than blinding white. He smelled the same, of citrus and clean male virility, reminding her vividly of what must lie beneath the clothes. He was all powerful male. She wanted him with a rawness that shocked her.
He took his time answering Val. “Not necessarily. I don’t obey orders blindly. I never have.”
Lord Strenshall grunted. “That must have made you an interesting soldier.”
“At times an army needs an officer who can think for himself.”
The pressure on her chair increased, tilting her slightly toward him. She would have gone to him, but the notion of a room full of angry males did not appeal.
“Why are you working for the government?” Marcus snapped.
Dominic turned his head to address Marcus directly. “Because I worked for them before, and this method keeps me informed. I prefer to have a say in what happens in my country. I believe we are in a state of flux, and if we’re not careful, we could find ourselves plunged back into civil war. The present monarch believes in consultation. We have taught him the value of it, and once Pandora’s Box is opened, it cannot be sealed again. Even if the Stuarts return, they would not be an absolute monarchy.” Even to say that much was treason, but nobody in the room appeared surprised at the statement. Dominic even garnered a few nods. “I believe that, for all their talk of sharing, that is what they want.”
Silence fell, but not for long. That pause was telling, allowing everyone to think over what he said, although Claudia had heard similar discussions over the breakfast table. Only en famille, though. They probably went to White’s and discussed everything, but she doubted it.
“Maybe I should start an exclusive club for ladies in Hart Street.”
She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until Dominic snorted with laughter.
“If anyone could do it, Lady Claudia, I believe you could.”
She warmed to him even more, as the men in the room hooted. Claudia let them have their fun. She’d have the last laugh. When they had cleared the nest of traitors from her house, she’d put serious thought to her idea. A club for ladies sounded like the kind of establishment she would enjoy. They would thumb their noses at the men who thought they ruled the world.
In the meantime she’d see what they wanted to do with the house that she owned.
“We should clean the place out,” Val said. “Get rid of the seditious bastards.” He glanced at Claudia and mouthed “sorry,” presumably for using the curse word.
She shrugged and smiled. She’d heard worse words, and she had asked to be involved in this business. Forced her presence on them. She could hardly blame them for speaking freely.
“Then what?” she asked.
“Then in the fullness of time, you may sell it and add to your portion,” Val continued. “You said you could not live in it.”
She nodded. “I want to think about it. It might be more profitable to rent it out.”
“As long as you ensure the tenants are loyalists,” Marcus shook his lace ruffles free of his wide coat cuffs and picked up one of the papers. “You know where we obtained many of these?”
She nodded again.
Marcus glanced up at Dominic. “You?”
Dominic shook his head. “Tell me.”
Even if he did know, that was a smart move. He might learn more. He probably thought they got them from the authorities, but if they had, it was by another’s hand.
“Julius,” she said.
Her father nodded. “Indeed. My wife’s older brother is the Duke of Kirkburton. His son and heir, Julius, Lord Winterton, is particularly interested in the incursions of the Jacobites into London. You know of our family’s long rivalry with the Dankworths I presume?” He never took his attention from Dominic’s face the whole time he was speaking.
Claudia could only imagine how Dominic was feeling now, with the attention of her father and his three sons fixed on him. They were a formidable bunch. But then, Dominic was a formidable man.
Her father continued, “Our families have been at odds for some time, and now it comes down to the political divide between Jacobite and loyalist. I am not a foolish man, and I would not be speaking to you so frankly if I weren’t sure you were on our side. I have friends in Whitehall.”
“General Court,” Dominic said with a twisted smile.
Lord Strenshall inclined his head. “As you say.”
Dominic continued, “Then you should know that I am the only heir to my father’s title now. I intend to take my responsibilities seriously. I am a Whig by persuasion and a loyalist by inclination. I have never met the Stuarts—formally—but I have seen them, and I know what they want. I cannot see their aims being good for the country as it is now. Besides which, the current monarch rules at our wish. The will of the people.”
“You’re getting close to republicanism there.” Darius pressed the side of his thumbnail to his bottom lip.
“Do you object?” Dominic asked quietly, but menace growled low in his tones.
“Not in the least. A man is entitled to his opinions, but he doesn’t necessarily have the right to impose it on others.”