“Strike him?” Lord Franks turned his head towards her at once, alarm in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Carolyn frowned, wondering if Lord Franks’ supposed surprise at this was anything more than an act. After all, there appeared to be a great deal about him she did not know and, given that he had managed to pretend that he was interested in calling on her when, in fact, he was seeking something from her brother, she did not think she could trust him.
“I truly do not understand what you are speaking of,” Lord Franks continued, perhaps aware that she was uncertain of him. “Your brother is injured?”
“Yes, Lord Franks,” Carolyn answered, glancing behind her to see her mother now caught up in conversation with an acquaintance of some kind. “He has been struck across the face, if not hit elsewhere also.” She shook her head, biting her lip hard for a moment. “I cannot tell what has happened and he certainly will not tell me.”
“I see,” Lord Franks murmured, his expression grave. “That is interesting to know, Miss Hemmingway.” When she looked up at him, she saw that his eyes were now resting on hers, flickering questions held within them.
“It is interesting that my brother has been injured?” she asked, sharply, feeling a knot of anger beginning to tighten in her stomach. “Is that what you mean?”
Lord Franks did not answer immediately, looking at her calmly for some moments. “No,” he said, slowly, looking into her face. “As you may be aware, Miss Hemmingway, there is a good deal surrounding you of which you might not be aware.”
The note in his voice had her frowning. “I hope you do not mean to suggest that I am intentionally pretending to know less than I do,” she said, her anger still bubbling just under the surface. “Truly, Lord Franks, what I heard yesterday as I stood in your drawing room was the first time I have ever heard of something like the ‘League’ or whatever it is called.” Her voice sharpened. “And nor would I wish injury on your friend.”
“Then might I ask how you were aware that the box was taken?”
She blinked, coming to a dead stop as she looked steadily back at him. “Box?” she repeated, having no understanding of what he spoke of. “The only thing I surmised, Lord Franks, was that you came to the townhouse to either find something from my brother or to attempt to speak to him when there was no-one else to hear you do so.” Narrowing her eyes at the way his eyes still flicked over her features, she folded her arms and tilted her head. “What is it that you suspect me of, Lord Franks?”
Lord Franks held her gaze, then shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. “I have already made a good many mistakes, Miss Hemmingway, and I do not want my instincts to be proven wrong,” he said, his voice low and filled with a sense of regret. “If I trust you, if I come to believe that you are speaking the truth, then what if I am wrong? What if you are the one attempting to bring the League to its knees?”
She stared at him, aware that her mouth was now a little ajar but having no ability to close it tightly again.
“Your brother was out of the house yesterday afternoon, which means that the only person aware that I had taken a box from his study was either yourself or Lady Callander,” he continued, taking a small step forward and looking deeply into her eyes as though searching for the truth there. “Is that not so?”
Struggling to find her voice and feeling a sudden rush of fear crash over her like a wave of icy water, Carolyn shook her head. “No, that is not the case, Lord Franks,” she managed to say, somewhat hoarsely. “You are mistaken.”
His frown was immediate. “What do you mean?”
Pressing her lips together tightly for a moment or two, Carolyn considered what she was to say, fearful that this would bring a good deal of injury to her brother but knowing that she had to speak the truth. The injuries to Lord Millerton and to his driver forced her to do so.
“My brother returned home, only a minute or so after you departed,” she told him, seeing his eyes flare wide. “He came to greet myself and Lady Callander. That is why I was surprised to see you coming from his study, Lord Franks.”
“Why was that?” he asked, moving even closer as though his presence would force her to speak all the more quickly. “You believed him to be in there?”
She swallowed hard, not understanding what had occurred. “He was within,” she told him, rubbing at her forehead and looking away. “As you walked to the front door of the house, I turned my head and saw him quit the room. I—I did not see him thereafter.”
Closing her eyes, Carolyn felt herself sway for a moment or two, only for Lord Franks’ hand to catch her arm and, as he turned her to continue walking along the path, her hand now resting on his arm and his free hand over her fingers. They walked in such a fashion for some minutes, silent and lost in their own thoughts. Carolyn did not know what to think of what Lord Franks had revealed to her, now fearful that her brother was involved in something so dreadful that he was now in more danger than ever before.
“I must tell you the truth, I think,” Lord Franks muttered, not looking at her again but rather keeping his gaze on the path ahead. “I fear you will not be pleased with what I have to say but you are intelligent enough to understand it, and honest enough for me to place a small trust in you.”
She tried to smile, tried to lift her heart free of its sudden weights but found that she could not. “Just a small amount of trust, Lord Franks?”
His eyes were flint. “I do not know if you are telling me the truth,” he said, simply. “You might very well have been the only one at home. Your brother might have remained absent and—"
“Then speak to Lady Callander,” she interrupted, flushed with a sudden fury. “She will confirm that she spoke to my brother yesterday afternoon, before I came out into the hallway. She will tell you how I returned and remained with her, explaining what had occurred, before we decided to go to the dressmakers so as to rid ourselves of the sense of fright that had overtaken us.”
Lord Franks chuckled darkly, adding to Carolyn’s upset. “I have every intention of doing so, Miss Hemmingway,” he told her, making her swallow her anger and attempt to keep her emotions under control. “Have no doubt about that.”
Again, silence swirled around them, the only sound their feet on the path, or the occasional burst of laughter from another group of ladies or gentlemen nearby. Carolyn took in steady breaths, trying to force the anger from her heart, forcing it out of her veins so that she might listen and speak with calmness. She did not like Lord Franks’ accusation that she might well be untrustworthy but she tried to tell herself that it was reasonable for him to do so.
“The League,” Lord Franks said suddenly, “is a group of gentlemen set up to protect the King and the Prince Regent, as well as to ensure that the country is kept free from spies who might seek to exploit any weaknesses the country might have. We are, for the most part, secret.” He did not look at her but continued to speak in a matter-of-fact tone. “Lord Millerton has only been accepted into it these last few months, whereas I have been a member for the last few years.” Darting a glance at her, his lips curved into a slightly rueful smile. “I have done much to protect this country, done much to serve my King, but there is always someone else to pursue, something else to bring to a swift end.”
“And there is something at present that involves my brother?” she asked, a catch in her voice as she inadvertently tightened her hand on his arm. “What is it that you think he has done?”
“I…..” He trailed off, looking at her and slowing his steps as he spoke. “I do not want to say too much, Miss Hemmingway.”
Anger spiraled up towards her heart. “I am not your enemy, Lord Franks!” she exclaimed, already finding it difficult to contain her upset. “Why will you not understand that? If you are speaking of my brother, then I, of course, find that particularly difficult, but I do still wish to know the truth!” her heart began to pound furiously as she sought to explain herself. “My brother is, from what I know, a man of a less than perfect character. He does nothing but seeks his own pleasures whilst in London, just as any gentleman might, but often makes foolish bets and the like—but I would never consider him to be a traitor to the Crown! He has a wife to think of, a family and a title!”