My Plain Jane (The Lady Janies #2)(103)

She found a discarded ivory fan. It was probably expensive.

She grabbed a woman’s ankle and the woman screamed and tried to kick her.

“Blast!” But then her fingers touched glass. And then the handle of her spectacles.

She quickly whipped the spectacles up to her eyes. And her mouth dropped open.

In the time she’d been searching for her blasted glasses the room had emptied, save Mr. Blackwood, the Rochesters, Jane, and Bran.

And the king. The king was still seated on the throne, surveying the scene quite calmly. And beside him was the Duke of Wellington.

For a moment, they simply gaped at him.

“Well, that was an amusing little display,” the duke said finally. “But do you take me for a fool?”

“I would never take you for a fool,” Mr. Rochester growled. “A traitor, yes. A two-faced, serpent-tongued blaggart, absolutely. But not a fool.”

“Now, now. No need for name calling,” said the duke. “Why don’t we all just sit down and have a little chat?”

Charlotte felt Mr. Blackwood coil like a spring beside her. “We’ve talked enough. Give us the ring.”

Wellington tsked. “I wish I could say it’s good to see you, dear boy. But you not being dead right now is inconvenient for me.”

“I trusted you.” Mr. Blackwood’s voice betrayed his agony at the duke’s deceit. “I thought of you as a . . . father to me, when my own was gone. And all this time, I should have sought revenge upon you.”

“I never did like your father,” said the duke. “He was the sanctimonious sort. It seems the apple doesn’t fall far from that tree. Now sit down.” He drew a pistol from his waistcoat and pointed it at Mr. Blackwood with an expression that made Charlotte’s heart beat fast. “Please,” he added.

But Mr. Blackwood had drawn his own gun. Where had he gotten a gun? For a moment, the two men faced each other down, but then the duke smiled and swung his arm around so that it was pointing, not at any of them, but at the king. “Put your weapon down, or I will murder him,” he said. “I’ve done it before. George III was such a bother. And David here won’t mind—he’ll just inhabit the next in line for the throne. I already have that all arranged.”

Mr. Blackwood took a step forward. Wellington cocked the pistol. “I will do it. I will be very cranky if I must do it. It will cost me time and immeasurable effort. But I will. And then you’ll be responsible for the death of a king. And when the guards arrive I will tell them that you killed him. And who will they believe? I wonder.”

Mr. Blackwood’s arm dropped. “We could duel,” he said softly. “You and me, here and now, and then it would be over.”

The duke shook his head. “I know how good you are, my boy. I taught you myself. No, I think not. If we dueled, one of us would die. Probably you, but why chance it? And besides, perhaps I was hasty in trying to dispatch you earlier. You’re of more value to me alive, dear Alexander. I’ve always been fond of you. If you would only see the importance in what I am doing here, we could be allies once again. Help me. Support my cause. Surely you can see all that I’ve accomplished, and all that I will accomplish, as prime minister, and as . . . advisor to the king.”

“So it’s true,” Mrs. Rochester said. “You mean to rule England.”

“Of course I do. The king is a moron. The members of Parliament, only more so. The people require a firm hand to guide them. To lead them.”

“We will never join you,” said Mr. Blackwood.

“Speak for yourself,” said the duke.

“Never,” said Mr. Rochester.

“Never again,” murmured Mrs. Rochester. The Rochesters took hands. “Jamais. This time we will stop you,” she said darkly. “We will see this evil ended.”

“You two have always been tiresome,” the duke said. “I should have done away with you at the same time I dealt with his father.”

Mr. Blackwood gave a choked furious cry, but did not, to Charlotte’s surprise, attack the man who had killed his father. “You will pay,” he growled instead. “You will pay for all of it.”

The duke ignored him. He turned to address Jane. “Miss Eyre, I meant every word I said about how much the Society needs you. I would entreat you to stay in your position with us, serve as my star agent, my Beacon of light, and help me to usher in an era of peace and prosperity the likes of which this nation has never seen.”

“Go to hell,” said Jane. (Which was really shocking language for a woman of this time. But she was obviously starting to become annoyed at people telling her what to do.)

“Oh, well. Perhaps . . . Mr. Bront?.” The duke moved on. “I could reinstate you immediately. You could be a credit to your family, instead of an embarrassment.”

“He is a credit to our family,” Charlotte said before Bran could answer.

The duke’s eyes flickered to her. “And you, the charming but unfortunately nearsighted sister. You could be initiated as well. I am sure you could be quite useful to us . . . in some way I haven’t yet discerned. Did you know that I’m your uncle?” He chuckled darkly. “I had two miserable sisters, once.”

“What?” Charlotte gasped, shocked. “Our mother?”