Reckless in Pink. Lynne Connolly

have republicanism at heart,” she said, reminding them what they were here for. Increasingly she was getting the feeling that they wanted more than they said. They were interviewing Dominic, dammit. Yet again, matters were spiraling out of her control. She hated that, almost more than she hated anything else.

      “They do not.” Dominic shifted position and his hand grazed the side of her neck.

      The touch hardly there, shivers went through Claudia. He hadn’t done that by accident.

      Her oldest brother cleared his throat, stood, and flicked his coat skirts. Habitually, he played with his clothes when he wanted to distract attention from something else. He’d seen that touch and detected her reaction to it.

      “I do not want that house disturbed for the time being,” Dominic said.

      Darius, who had been staring at his fingernails as if detecting a flaw there, looked up. “The devil you say. Why not?”

      “Because I want to observe what goes on there.” Dominic paused before he spoke again. “I should not be telling you this, you understand?”

      The men in the room grunted or nodded their assent, because they must have known he would say nothing if they did.

      “The government has had enough. The prime minister wants Stuart arrested and brought to trial.”

      Darius and Val hissed through their teeth, Marcus muttered a word that he should not have used in mixed company.

      Her father merely nodded. “I expected as much. Newcastle does not have the subtlety of mind of his brother.”

      The late Henry Pelham-Holles had died two years ago, much to the general lamentation of the Whigs. Yet another reason for striking now, if the Jacobites were attending, while politics was in a state of flux. Where the Duke of Newcastle was intelligent, his brother Henry had been brilliant. Now Henry had gone, everything worked a little less well.

      “I believe you’re right.” Dominic’s hand tightened on the top rail of Claudia’s chair. “I came today to inform you of the government’s intention.”

      Marcus laughed roughly. “You always meant to tell us, did you not?”

      “I considered it,” Dominic said. “May I be frank?”

      The men either nodded or agreed verbally.

      “I don’t think a public trial for Stuart is the best course. I still think the Cause is better dying a slow death.”

      “I agree,” her father said without hesitation.

      “You want him in my house?” she demanded. “Is that it?”

      “I want him where I can find him,” Dominic said steadily, but this time he addressed her. Their eyes met. His crinkled very slightly at the corners in the beginning of a smile that did not reach his lips. “I want to know what he is doing in London and who his associates are.”

      “We know that,” Darius growled. He kicked away from the wall, heedless of the scuffmark he made on the paneling.

      Their mother would not appreciate the extra work he’d made for the servants, and she would no doubt speak to him later about it. Claudia looked forward to it. The men got away with far too much in this house.

      “I say we take him and send him back to France,” Darius said.

      “Italy,” his twin corrected him.

      “I care not, as long as he’s out of this country.”

      “To plot again?” Dominic looked away from Claudia and addressed her brother. “To send messages to his partners in crime in London?”

      Val sighed. “He’s right. The more we know, the better we can deal with the situation.”

      Still tracing a line on the desk with his forefinger, Marcus lifted his head. “What concerns me is the coincidence. How did Claudia come into possession of one of the most notorious houses of sedition in the city? In the country, for that matter?”

      “Oh, I think we know the answer to that,” her father said steadily. The chair creaked as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the wood. “It screams ‘Dankworth’ from every pore.”