Home > The Prince of Spies (Hope and Glory #3)(64)

The Prince of Spies (Hope and Glory #3)(64)
Author: Elizabeth Camden

The paper crackled as Vera wiggled the letter back into the envelope. “He may change his mind once this all blows over.”

“I doubt it.” Marianne spoke without heat or anger, just resignation. She loved Luke too much even to consider Colonel Phelps, but his rejection still hurt.

Vera dropped the note, curled over, and started weeping.

Marianne rushed to embrace her. “Mama, it will be all right!” she soothed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t care for Colonel Phelps. All I care about is you. Please don’t cry.”

“Oh, Marianne,” Vera sobbed. “You are the best, even though you’re not my own. You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Mama.”

Vera wiped her tears, taking some ragged breaths and gradually composing herself. “Now, darling,” she said, “please don’t take this amiss, but I think things would be easier if you left town for a little spell.” At Marianne’s gasp, Vera rushed to explain. “Only for a little while, darling! You could go live with Andrew and Delia and have a nice visit in Baltimore. I think it would be easier for everyone.”

Marianne looked away so Vera couldn’t see the hurt on her face. Going to Baltimore was impossible. Not only would she rather strangle Andrew than look at him, she couldn’t bear to be that far away from Luke. She couldn’t even see him, but the Poison Squad was doing their best to rally support to his cause.

“I know you’ve been feeling cooped up here,” Vera continued. “If you were in Baltimore, Andrew would be able to keep an eye on you.”

“I’ll talk to Papa about it,” she said noncommittally.

Perhaps there was a way to capitalize on this latest catastrophe that could benefit Luke, but it would come at a terrible cost.

 

Marianne intended to intercept her father the moment he arrived home so she could warn him of Vera’s plan to ship her off to Baltimore and into Andrew’s smothering protectorate. She wouldn’t go to Baltimore. At least, not without some significant concessions.

To her surprise, old Jedidiah had come from Baltimore and was with Clyde as they arrived home at the end of the day. She greeted them both at the front door.

“Hello, Grandpa,” she said cautiously. This was the first time she’d spoken to him since confessing what she’d done, and he gave her a stiff nod but no smile. It was enough. At least he had come to support Clyde in the face of this latest blow.

“How’s your mother?” Clyde asked without ceremony.

“She’s upstairs, getting dressed for dinner,” she replied. “Eight women called for a visit this afternoon, and she survived it with only a few dings to her dignity. She’s also hoping to send me to Baltimore, and I’d like to speak with you privately before you agree to anything.”

Marianne had spent all afternoon planning how to take advantage of the rapidly shifting family dynamics. Maybe she was aiming too high, but timidity wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She wouldn’t meekly go to Baltimore without winning a huge favor in return.

“Has she figured out it was Andrew?” Jedidiah asked.

She shook her head. “We didn’t discuss it.”

“I never trusted that boy,” her grandfather said to Clyde. “Too ambitious. He was handed everything on a silver platter and didn’t develop the muscle to fight on his own. It’s made him sneaky and mean.”

“Quiet,” her father urged. “Vera might overhear.”

Jedidiah snorted. “She needs to find out about the boy sooner or later.”

“Later,” her father urged. “There’s only so much she can handle right now.”

Dinner was a tense affair, and Clyde briefly reported that Congressman Dern had asked him to remain on the committee to assist with the pending tariff resolution, but recommended he consider searching for another committee appointment by the end of summer. It was a humiliation, but at least Clyde was allowed to save face in the short term.

After dinner, Vera returned to her room upstairs, and Clyde retreated with Jedidiah to the study. Marianne rose to join them.

“If I am to go to Baltimore, we have some issues to discuss.”

Her father’s mouth turned down, but he gestured her inside. Would having Jedidiah here help or hurt her case? Her grandfather mistrusted Andrew but had always warmly approved of her, so that was good, but he was also the hard, unforgiving man who had turned his back on Aunt Stella.

“Yes, Marianne, what is it?” Clyde asked once the door was closed behind the three of them. Jedidiah sat and began filling his pipe, but Clyde remained standing, as did she.

She saw no point in softening her words. “Mama wants me to leave the city because I am an embarrassment to her.”

The blunt statement had the desired effect. Clyde winced and sent her an apologetic look, but his words offered no comfort.

“Then please do so,” he said in a pleading voice. “You know your mother and I both love you, but it would be easier on her if you go. Just for a short while. This is entirely my fault, and I’m sorry.”

On a night like this, when her father was being attacked from all sides, she ought to be supportive and relent. She couldn’t. Not when Luke’s freedom was on the line. Now was the time to fight.

“Yes, it’s your fault,” she agreed. “And yet you want me to go live with Andrew. Andrew, of all people. I’ll go to Baltimore, but only in return for a favor.”

Clyde tensed, and even Jedidiah looked up from his pipe, waiting expectantly.

“I want you to get Luke Delacroix out of jail. I want all the charges dropped, and I want—”

“Forget it,” Clyde interrupted.

“But I was the one who gave those studies to Luke. I was the one who spied. We all know that.”

“I’m not going to put you in jail, Marianne.”

“Thank you, because I’d rather not go to jail. But Luke doesn’t belong there, and I want him out.”

“And if I get him out, you’ll go to Baltimore?”

“I will.”

“Not good enough. I want the two of you separated permanently. Forever.”

A weight landed in her stomach. She’d always known that choosing Luke would mean her family would cast her out. They’d done it to Aunt Stella, and they would do it to her. If she fled to Luke, her father would continue his quest to ruin the entire Delacroix family.

It would be better to engineer a cease-fire. Luke’s freedom was worth it, and she could ensure her father lived up to his word.

“I promise I will leave and never contact him again,” she said, her heart splitting as she spoke, but she had to stay strong while forging this deal.

A calculating gleam lit Clyde’s gaze. “You won’t return his messages or let him see you either?”

“I have no control over what Luke does. His own family can’t control him, so how can I? But I can promise to leave Washington and never contact him again. Papa, we have each other over a barrel. If Luke somehow lands back in jail, our deal is off. I’ll come back to Washington and get the warden to marry us in a prison ceremony. I’ll share his jail cell if I have to.”

“You wouldn’t,” Clyde said.

“I would,” she vowed. “And I have contacts in Washington who will be watching to ensure you live up to your end of the bargain. If Luke gets arrested for littering, you’d better see that he gets out of jail before nightfall.”

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