But he didn’t look guilty, only confused. When the questions stopped, he spread his hands. “I don’t know. Fitz mentioned the trip to Spain and thought it might be a lark, something to alleviate boredom. We were supposed to go together. When my father heard about it, he thought it a good idea, and he used his influence to get me added to the envoy. He thought it would give me some experience and perhaps further my stocks with some of the power brokers in the City.”
“But Fitzroy didn’t go on the expedition,” Marcus observed.
“No. He pulled out at the last minute. I don’t know why. He just said he couldn’t go and to leave it alone. But he said he expected a full report when I got home. Especially about those Spanish girls we’d heard so much about.” Percival rubbed his hands on his thighs, darting a look at Diana.
Typical. The lecher. She looked away.
“How did you get trapped on the battlefield? You were supposed to be miles behind the lines.” Marcus leaned against the desk, crossing his arms, looking like an avenging judge.
“We were so far from the battle, we could hardly hear the guns. The man I was supposed to be aiding, Peters, wanted to see the fighting, so we loaded up in a wagon and headed toward the front. He said he wanted real information to bring back to Parliament, not some secondhand drivel fed to us by the commanders. We went to the high ground, well back from a battery of Portuguese artillery, but Peters wasn’t satisfied. He got out of the wagon and went to argue with the colonel in charge that we be allowed closer, and the driver went with him because the driver spoke Portuguese.
“I was alone in the wagon, and a shell hit nearby. It came out of the clear blue sky. All I could think was that I was going to die, and I wanted to get out of there. I climbed onto the wagon seat, and when I grabbed the reins, the horses took off. They raced straight down the hill. There wasn’t even a road. I couldn’t stop them. Before I knew it, we were in the thick of the fighting. The front lines were charging one another.” Percival’s eyes were stark, reliving his terrifying experience. He gulped and continued.
“I was yanking on the reins, but the horses wouldn’t stop. I could barely see, there was so much smoke. I had no idea where I was, whether on the British side or the French. I just knew I wanted to get out of there. Then I got shot, and when I looked down, my foot was bleeding. I guess I might have fainted. When I came to, I had fallen backward into the wagon, and there were bullets flying everywhere and shells exploding. I thought I was going to die.”
Evan straightened from leaning back on the door. “Those were war horses, trained to run into battle. When the shell detonated close by and you picked up the reins, they ran.”
“Stupid beasts. It was like I wasn’t even there hauling on the reins. I stayed in the back of the wagon, trying to hide, but the wagon box must’ve made a fine target. Bullets were whistling by. It was like the air was full of lead. Then you were there, cutting the dead horse loose, climbing on the live one, and we were racing back the way we’d come. My foot was hurting like—” He broke off, glancing at Diana. “Hurting a lot, and just as we reached the base of the hill where the British troops were assembling for another charge, you were shot and knocked off the horse. But there were plenty of British and Portuguese soldiers about, and they hauled us back to the hospital tents.”
“What did you tell Fitzroy when you got back? Had anyone tried to give you a message for him? A letter?” Marcus pressed his palms into the desk, leaning forward.
“No. I tell you I knew nothing about what he was planning. He never breathed a word of it. I wouldn’t have gone along with it if he had. I’m no traitor.” Percival spread his hands, fingers wide, palms up. “Nobody gave me any messages for him. Nobody in Spain even mentioned him to me.”
“Where did you get your money? You’ve paid your debts all over London, and you’ve spent lavishly. Everyone knows you were counting on getting part of Diana’s inheritance, and when you didn’t you were strapped for cash. So where did your money come from all of a sudden?”
Percival scrubbed his hands down his handsome face. “This is going to sound bad, but the money came from Fitzroy.”
Diana’s heart sank.
“Why would he give you money?”
Hesitating, Percival looked from Evan to Diana and back. “It was because of Diana,” he mumbled.
She straightened. “What?”
Percival shrank in his chair. “You keep him off me, and I’ll tell you. But you have to keep him off me.” He pointed to Evan.
Marcus glared. “Tell me what you know, or Whitelock is going to be the least of your worries.”
“Ask Fitzroy all these questions. He’ll tell you.”
“Fiztroy is dead. He was a traitor and an assassin, and he was shot trying to escape.” Marcus’s tone blew coldly through the room.
Diana crossed her arms, hugging herself.
Sweat broke out on Percival’s brow, and he dug in his waistcoat pocket for a handkerchief. “He’s dead?” He looked as if he were trying to work some moisture into his mouth. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. He can’t help you now. Why did Fitzroy pay you, and what does it have to do with Diana?”
The news of the viscount’s death seemed to split Percival open like a bag of seed. “Fitzroy paid me a handsome sum to get him into White Haven. We weren’t part of the official royal party, and no matter how we wheedled and sidled up to the prince, he just wouldn’t issue an invitation. Fitzroy was desperate to be included, and when I asked him why, he said it was because of Diana. He wanted her.” Percival swallowed hard, sending a fearful look at Evan.
Evan’s fists bunched, and he shot a hot look at Percival.
“It wasn’t my fault. He had an obsession about her. And he promised that if I helped engineer a situation where he could get his hands on her, he’d pay me even more.”
Diana was on her feet in a flash, crossing the room. Trembling with rage and betrayal, she stood before her half brother. “It isn’t the earl you should be worried about. You thought you could sell me? Sell my virtue? Do you have any idea what he planned to do when he ‘got his hands on me’? He threatened not only to tell everyone in society that he’d seduced and compromised our sister but that he had done the same to me. And the price of his silence was that I must submit to his wishes and give myself to him.”
Freezing in his chair, Percival took in what she had said. “You mean Fitz was the one who bedded Catherine? Is he the brat’s father?”
Diana realized what she had revealed, and her hand went to her mouth. But she had been going to tell Evan anyway. She glanced across the room at her husband, her heart sinking at his granite expression. She turned back to her worthless brother.
“That’s right. He fathered a child on your sister and abandoned her. Now she’s dead. And you helped him worm his way into our house so he could attempt to kill the Prince Regent. You might not have known about his ultimate plan, but you brought him here knowing he would try to assault me or blackmail me into submitting to his wishes.” Her stomach lurched, and she thought she might be sick all over him. Turning away, she found herself face to chest with her husband.