by Aston, Alexa
Melton shrugged. “I suppose you’ll have to keep looking.” He drifted away.
Burke danced and flirted, maintaining his cover of being a carefree rake. He danced with Gemma after supper and they laughed and put on a good show for anyone watching them. After their dance, though, he left the ball early. Though he longed to drive by Selina Crawford’s and touch base with Jones as he was on watch, Burke didn’t want his carriage recognized. The same held true for going past Elise Martin’s.
He returned to his rented townhouse and went to the library. Pouring himself a brandy, he became lost in thought.
Suddenly, Jones was before him. Burke cursed, not having heard the agent enter the room.
“Was another meeting held at Mrs. Crawford’s?” he asked anxiously, hoping for a break in the case.
“No. Something has happened, though.” Jones shook his head. “I went by Elise Martin’s to check in with the agents watching the house. You’re not going to like this.”
“What?”
“I watched a body covered by a sheet being carried out on a stretcher. I passed a few coins to a footman and found out it was Mrs. Martin. An accidental overdose of laudanum was what was being bandied about.”
Burke’s gut clenched. Both he and Jones knew there was nothing accidental about Elise Martin’s death.
He only wondered if his visit had gotten her killed.
Chapter Eighteen
Gemma came down to breakfast and saw Burke had already arrived. He seemed in a pensive mood so she went through her posts while she ate. She’d received several invitations to upcoming events, as well as notes from Charlotte and William.
She opened Charlotte’s first, which invited her for tea today. Charlotte wanted her to meet Harriet and Jane, the girls she’d been first a governess to and now a mother. Gemma couldn’t help but wonder if Burke would also appear at teatime since Charlotte had pressed Gemma to give him a chance. She wondered if she should be frank and tell her new friend that she didn’t think Burke would ever settle down and that she’d asked him never to kiss her again.
William’s note invited her to attend the theatre with him tonight, followed by a late supper. Since it was a rare night she had no engagement, she decided she would go. She enjoyed his company and knew, though he acted as if all was well, being jilted at the altar still stung him.
Gemma finished her tea and saw Burke was also done eating.
“I have some correspondence to tend to before Mr. Smith arrives for our scheduled meeting. You may wait in the library if you choose. I’ll be in my study.”
“Might I go with you and look at whatever project you’re working on?”
“If you’d like.”
Mr. Bosley came in to clear the dishes and she told him she would have two messages for him to deliver once she’d written them out.
“Come to my study in ten minutes and you can deliver those first. I’ll also respond to some invitations I’ve received. I’ll place those on the table in the foyer and you can see to those once you return from your other errand.”
“Very good, my lady.”
She and Burke retreated to her study, he going to her table where her latest effort was laid out while she went behind her desk. She gave affirmative replies to Charlotte and William and Mr. Bosley retrieved those from her, leaving her free to go through the invitations. As she responded to each invitation, she placed the event’s time and date, along with its hosts, on her calendar. After she finished her task, Gemma left her study and placed the stack on the table.
A knock sounded at the door and she answered it herself, surprised to find not only Mr. Smith on her doorstep but also Sir Paxton. She invited them in and led them to her study.
“Mr. Nicholson has already arrived,” she told the pair and the four of them seated themselves once inside.
“I hope you don’t mind that I came with Mr. Smith,” Sir Paxton began. “I was excited to receive your message about the code you’ve created for our government’s use.”
Gemma went to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a large, thick envelope and giving it to Sir Paxton.
“Everything is in here.”
“You’re already brilliant at deciphering, Lady Covington. I know your effort at manufacturing your own code will be something we will be eager to use.” He paused. “I am sorry that I will not be able to share the author of it, at least as long as you are working with Mr. Nicholson. I hope that you will receive credit at some point for your work.”
“That’s not important to me, Sir Paxton. Anything I contribute to England’s war effort is reward enough.”
“I feel your efforts away from cracking and developing ciphers is wasted,” Sir Paxton continued. “Part of today’s meeting will be to determine if Mr. Nicholson still has need of you for this current assignment.”
Disappointment flooded Gemma. Not only had she enjoyed the additional work the crown had given her, but she looked forward to the time spent with Burke. If she were no longer partnered with him, he would have no need to seek her out at events. No more dancing. No more daily breakfasts. She hoped Burke would speak up and let Sir Paxton know exactly how valuable she was to their mission.
Mr. Smith cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Nicholson, please detail the pertinent facts and information you’ve gathered thus far and clarify Lady Covington’s role for us.”
“Lady Covington is the one who discovered letters from Selina Crawford to Lord Hampton. That led to finding out that Hampton and Viscount Carpenter had previously held a clandestine meeting at Mrs. Crawford’s townhouse. I learned from a servant in the household that another meeting was planned. Jones and I watched the house to ascertain who would attend. Four men showed up. Hampton and Carpenter were two of them, as well as a man whom we didn’t recognize. I saw him clearly, though, and am working on identifying who he is.”
“And the fourth?” Sir Paxton asked.
Burke shook his head. “Blocked from our view by a zealous servant with an oversized umbrella. All I could tell you is that he was a large man. Jones is watching Mrs. Crawford’s every night from ten to midnight. So far, no other secret meetings have occurred.”
“No proof yet?” Smith inquired.
“Just my gut feeling that Hampton and Carpenter are involved in the ring we suspect,” Burke said. “I also met with Mrs. Crawford directly.”
Sir Paxton sat up. “What came of it?”
“She’s willing to come to my bed.”
Burke’s words stunned Gemma. Of course, she had to realize sex was used in warfare. The intimacies between couples in bed would naturally lend itself to revealing confidences. Still, the thought of that woman and Burke together made her physically ill.
“Then get her there,” Smith demanded.
“It’s not that easy,” Burke said. “At this point, her relationship with Hampton is new so she is loyal to him. She informed me once it ran its course that she would be more than willing to entertain an offer from me. Mrs. Crawford is more valuable now in her protector’s bed. Turning her, though, may prove difficult. And I don’t want to arouse her suspicions. She is a very clever woman.”
“Try to run into her on occasion then,” Sir Paxton recommended. “Have a casual conversation. You never know what tidbit you might glean.”
“Lady Covington also discovered the name of Hampton and Lord Melton’s former mistress, Elise Martin,” Burke said.
She glowed, knowing he was giving her more credit than she deserved, but hoping it would prove to the two men present that she was valuable to their operation.
“I visited Mrs. Martin yesterday afternoon on the pretext I was interested in buying the emerald necklace Melton had gifted to her upon their parting. She quickly informed me she’d sold it and was leaving London to care for her sick mother.” Burke paused. “She was very agitated. When I pressed her, she told me I needed to leave because they were watching.”
“They?” Smith sat up eagerly.
“Her serv
ants were packing as we spoke and I saw moving crates stacked in the foyer. She was definitely leaving town and wanted me gone. Her paranoia grew and I gave her my card, telling her I was with the government and could protect her.”
Sir Paxton shook his head. “A risky move. Especially since if her former protectors are involved, she could go to them and share the information.”
“I felt it worth the risk because she was so fearful,” Burke replied. “My words had the opposite effect I had intended, though. She grew increasingly upset and thought I was a part of the conspiracy. That I had been sent to test her. She kept pleading that she would remain quiet and even told me that she knew she was in danger.”
Smith said, “Nicholson requested two agents be put on Mrs. Martin’s house. They were in place soon after he spoke to her. They were to follow her to whatever her final destination was and watch her, hoping to see if they could get her to reveal what she knew.”
“That sounds promising,” Sir Paxton said. “Away from London, she might open up more.”
“Elise Martin is dead, Sir Paxton,” Burke said, his face emotionless.
Dead?
Fear spiked in Gemma. The danger these men had spoken of hadn’t seemed real to her. Until now. She glanced at Burke, his face unreadable, and knew he blamed himself for the woman’s murder.
“Yes. Her body was carried from the house last night. A supposed overdose of laudanum. I’m afraid my speaking to her may have gotten her killed.”
“You think it’s suspected that you’re working for the crown?” Smith asked.
“Melton confronted me at last night’s ball. Said he was aware of my visit to Mrs. Martin. Wanting to protect her, I told him I’d sought her out to purchase the emerald necklace he given her as a gift for Lady Covington. He seemed to believe that, especially when I told him she’d told me the necklace had been sold and then abruptly showed me the door.”
“The order to dispense of her may have already been given by the time of your conversation,” Sir Paxton pointed out. “You may have thrown Melton off the track, though, with your talk of the necklace.”
“Melton knows Lady Covington and I are close. I think he had no doubt as to the reason for my visit.”
“I think matters have changed course. Though Lady Covington’s role has been important, for your safety, my dear, I think we should end your part.”
She wanted to protest but Sir Paxton wore the same look Gemma’s father did when he’d made a decision. It was final—and not to be questioned.
Especially by a woman.
Sir Paxton looked to Burke. “You’ll need to end your association with Lady Covington immediately. Put out that you quarreled about something. Continue to play the rake but step it up. Layer your bitterness at having lost your eye more into the scenario. Your unhappiness with the British war effort and its waste of money fighting Bonaparte. If all goes well, these traitors may think they can use you and draw you into their circle.”
Fear for Burke filled Gemma yet she knew this was what he was supposed to do. Ferret out the rebels. Gain proof of their treason and bring them to an end.
Even worse, she wouldn’t be able to help him. They wouldn’t even speak in public. Her heart grew heavy and her throat thick with unshed tears.
“We’ll meet in three days at your townhouse, Nicholson,” Smith said crisply. He stood and the others followed suit.
Holding the envelope, Sir Paxton said, “I’ll give this to my best people today and let you know how they fare with your code, my lady.”
“Thank you,” she said steadily, trying to quell the raging emotions within her.
“Might we have a word, Lady Covington?” Burke asked.
“Of course.”
Sir Paxton said, “We’ll see ourselves out. Thank you again, my lady, for everything you are doing in our war against France.”
She inclined her head as the pair left, closing the door behind them.
Before Burke could speak, she said, “I disagree with Sir Paxton’s decision to pull me from the work we have been doing together. I believe that I have been quite valuable to this operation. I could continue to be so. If you will allow me.”
Yet even as the words left her mouth, Gemma questioned if her only motivation was in aiding the British government to crack the spy ring—or if she merely sought a way to continue to be closer to Burke.
“No,” he said firmly, shutting the door to her request. “Your safety is of utmost importance, Gemma. I won’t allow you to take any more risks. The situation has become much too dangerous.” He shook his head, his despair evident. “Look what happened to Elise Martin.”
“Don’t blame yourself for Mrs. Martin’s death.”
Despair crossed his handsome face. “How can I not? I was there. She was frantic. Hours later, she was dead.”
Gemma placed her hand on his arm. “You were carrying out your orders. You followed a lead. It’s not your fault that she was involved with these men.”
He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s the same as with The Don. I’m sorry, your husband.”
She smiled gently. “I rather think Rob liked your nickname for him.”
“Actually, he did,” Burke admitted. “We grew close over time. But just as I went to see Elise Martin and she wound up dead, so did Smythe. Whether I inadvertently did something to cause our capture or not, I was the more experienced agent. I should have kept him safe.”
He took her by the shoulders. “At least I can keep you safe now, Gemma. Working with me is poison. I’m glad Morris took you off the case. As I delve deeper into an association with the men we suspect, I’ll do it on my own.”
A tenderness filled his eye. “I’ll miss our time together, though. You have been a wonderful companion.”
“So have you,” she said softly.
“I know you said no more kisses. But may I give you a last one to say goodbye?”
“Yes.”
Burke’s head bent and his mouth covered hers. The kiss was chaste. Sweet. Short. He broke it and smiled wryly.
“It was a pleasure knowing you, Gemma. I wish you the best.”
He pressed a soft kiss to her brow and left without a word.
Chapter Nineteen
Gemma remained in her study for a few minutes and then went to her bedchamber. Joanie was there cleaning. She told the maid she had a headache and wanted to lie down, asking not to be disturbed.
After the servant let, Gemma took off her slippers and curled up on the bed. She wept silently for some time, knowing the tears would be cathartic.
And knowing she could never shed anymore around anyone.
She cried for the loss of Burke from her life. He’d become a huge part of it in such a short time. She would miss his warmth and intelligence and charm. He was a most amiable companion—and more. Gemma had thought after losing Rob that she would never wed. Never fall in love. She hadn’t thought she would miss out on much because she had her work for Sir Paxton and her friends. But the thought of Burke no longer being a part of her daily life was hard to bear.
Worse, the former army officer had awakened feelings within her that she’d never known existed. Having never been kissed—and then to have been kissed by a master—had proven to be her downfall. She would pine away the rest of her life for his kisses. His touch. She wished they’d had more time together. She would have liked to explore his body as he had hers. As it was, no man would ever appeal to her the way Burke Nicholson did.
Gemma felt her life would always be a lonely one. The joy she’d felt in Burke’s company would never be repeated. When the war ended, her usefulness to the British government would come to an end. She would retire to the country, as she’d planned, and never forget the man she loved. She admitted it freely now as tears cascaded down her cheeks, soaking her pillow, knowing this good man hadn’t caused Rob’s death.
She loved Burke Nicholson. She always would. It would be agony to attend ton events and see him without e
ver speaking to him. Torture to know how he placed his life in danger. The traitors might discover he was a crown agent—and then he’d disappear or be found murdered. If so, Gemma might never recover from his death.
Finally, her tears subsided, leaving her with a heartache so deep and real that she didn’t know how she would go on. She must, though. She didn’t want anything she said or did to put Burke in danger. It was important to go about her business as usual and not show how worried she was for his safety.
She fell asleep for a short while and then awoke, feeling drained. Ringing the bell, she asked Joanie for hot water and took a long bath before she dressed to go to tea at Charlotte’s. Gemma thought about begging off, especially if Burke would be there, and decided if he’d been invited he wouldn’t go. Not after Sir Paxton’s orders this morning for them to break all contact.
Mr. Bosley drove her to the Cramptons and Charlotte greeted her with a hug.
“I’m so glad you could come today, Gemma. It’s just to be us girls. By that, I’m including Harriet and Jane. Come upstairs and meet them.”
They went to the drawing room and Gemma found herself captivated by the girls. Harriet, who was nine, was already witty and asked endless questions of Gemma. Jane, at seven, was quite sweet and unassuming. Charlotte had Jane play a song on the pianoforte and Gemma was amazed at the depth of talent in one so young. Charlotte then showed off two of Harriet’s oil paintings which hung on the walls of the drawing room. Again, Gemma found herself suitably impressed.
After the girls had a slice of cake each, their governess appeared. They were to have a short lesson before their reading hour.
“Goodbye, Lady Covington,” Harriet said. “Jane and I like you quite a bit. Maybe you can come to visit us at Gray Manor once Mama has the baby.”
It touched Gemma that they referred to Charlotte as their mother and she could see the love shining for these girls in Charlotte’s eyes.
