by Lucy Adams
Edward held back a long sigh and considered what it was he was going to say. The lieutenant before him was both a friend and a man of authority for, together, they had set up this particular group of men, and thus far, they had seen excellent results from their endeavors.
At least, until earlier that evening.
“I have had my suspicions that, for some time, Stirling has been meeting with a French spy, Lieutenant,” Edward began carefully. “I shared such concerns with you for, if that was the case, then I was gravely worried about Stirling’s loyalty. Now, it seems, we shall never know the truth.”
Lieutenant James shook his head and cleared his throat gruffly. He was some years older than Edward, with thinning grey hair and an overly large moustache that hid his mouth almost completely at times. His eyes were fixed upon Edward’s and held a good deal of steel within them, which left Edward in little doubt that the man was displeased with what had occurred. And the shame of that began to grow within him.
“Tell me precisely what occurred,” the lieutenant said, his voice firm. “You were following Stirling, I believe.”
“I was,” Edward agreed. “I wanted to discover whom he was meeting and, thereafter, could question precisely what it was he was doing and why. I did not expect him to run from his meeting and certainly did not expect his companion to go after him!” He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, remembering how he had been taken completely by surprise and how the shock of what he had seen had brought him to a sudden, forceful stop.
“You found Stirling dead already, I presume,” the lieutenant asked, his voice a little softer now as he took in Edward’s expression. “I know he was an acquaintance of yours, Carroway, so it must have been a rather difficult thing to come across.”
Edward swallowed but, with practiced effort, thrust aside his feelings and nodded. “Yes, it was,” he admitted honestly, looking at the lieutenant with clear eyes. “But I was then caught by the fact that the murderer was now attacking a young woman.”
Lieutenant James’s eyes flared with surprise. “Indeed?”
“She was fighting back, certainly,” Edward added, recalling how the young woman had been clawing and scratching at the man in order to get away from him. “I believe that the murderer was, in his own way, enjoying the fact that she was struggling so.” He shook his head in disgust, feeling it rise up within him. “I attempted to pull him from her and, in doing so, knocked him to the ground. However, when he rose, he had the knife still within his hand and used it to defend himself.”
“I see,” the lieutenant murmured. “And then he ran from you?”
“Yes,” Edward said, nodding. “The cowardice within him could not be hidden. He ran from me. I was forced to ensure that the lady was quite well before I could go after him. I feared that she was close to fainting, and, in fact, she gave herself up to unconsciousness before the end of our conversation.”
The lieutenant allowed a faint trace of alarm to cross his features. “Then she may speak of what she has seen.”
“No, I do not think that she will,” Edward said hastily. “I had her promise that she would not breathe a word of what she saw to anyone, and before she fainted, she did agree.”
A snort of derision met this. “But you cannot be sure, Carroway! A young lady of quality may very well speak of such an incident!”
Edward hesitated. He was, he reflected, being quite foolish to believe that the lady would remain silent and that she would keep her promise, but for whatever reason, he found himself trusting her. “My instincts say, Lieutenant, that she can be trusted.”
The gentleman eyed him suspiciously. “Even though she fainted soon after speaking to you?” he said carefully, as though to point out to Edward just how ridiculous he was being. “At the very least, please tell me that you know her name?”
“No,” Edward murmured, a slight flush going up his cheeks. “I did not discover it for, as I said, she fainted.”
“And you left her in the street?”
Edward closed his eyes and held back his initial sharp retort. “No, I did not,” he replied evenly, opening his eyes again. “I carried her to the door of the house from whence she had come. I gently placed her down upon the threshold, rapped sharply—and rather loudly, I might add—before scurrying from the place and keeping watch some distance away. She was found almost at once and seemed to recover herself slightly by the time her family appeared.” He winced, recalling the commotion. “There was something of an uproar, I confess, but they managed to have her in the house within a few moments. From what I could hear, they had been due to attend a ball but….” He trailed off and shrugged. It was obvious that the family would not have chosen to attend the ball any longer after finding the young lady in such a state of disarray. What she would say to them by way of excusing how they had found her on the doorstep in a heap, he was not at all sure, but again came that same certainty that she would not be indiscreet. It was imperative that no one knew of the death, for then questions might be asked about who the fellow was, and then they might discover the organization that Lieutenant James and he had set up.
“It is all rather unfortunate,” Lieutenant James murmured, shaking his head. “Although….” He trailed off and studied Edward a little more closely, looking at him as though he had seen him in a new light. “Perhaps that title of yours might become useful at this juncture.”
Edward frowned. “I do not like to use my title, as well you know,” he grated.
“But it may be useful,” Lieutenant James replied mildly. “It could help you ensure that this particular young lady does, in fact, remain silent about what she saw.”
Edward gritted his teeth and thought hard, trying to find a way to reject the idea entirely. His title meant nothing to him, for it had been bestowed upon him without his knowledge, well before he had been old enough to understand. There were a good many rumors about Edward floating around London, which was why he was particularly keen to avoid the company of society. He did not want to be “Lord Carroway”—especially when he had no family to speak of. He had been tugged from the arms of the orphanage one day, at the tender age of seven years old, and had been sent to Eton. Much to his surprise, someone had informed him that he was now the Viscount of Carroway, and not simply Edward Yardley, as he had always believed. A small estate was his, as well as a small fortune. It had been quite unbelievable for a young lad of seven, and it had taken him a good many years to believe he was truly as he was called. It had not been until much later, when he had left Eton and had been able to do as he pleased, that he had been afforded the opportunity to search for the truth of his birth.
The documents purporting to give him his title had been sent to various solicitors, but none had found any particular fault with them. The small manor house and grounds he had been given, along with his new title, were in dire need of repair, and whilst he had been able to set the place to rights, Edward had found no joy in the opportunities then afforded him. To look after one’s estate, to grow one’s fortune, to find a wife and produce an heir was not something that he considered to be of any interest whatsoever. In fact, he had shunned it completely, choosing instead to go into the army and to leave a steward behind at his estate, who now looked after the house, the grounds, and the few tenants that lived and worked there.
It had been due to his interest in the army that he had first caught the eye of Lieutenant James. Of course, he had not been promoted to Lieutenant at the time, although he had still been Edward’s superior. A friendship of sorts had been struck up, and it was this that had brought about the new endeavour into protecting England from the spies and the criminals that infiltrated these parts. What worried Edward most were those who came from France, with the deliberate intention of finding out all they could of England’s weaknesses before returning home with the information. This was why he did not wish to use his title nor his connections with the ton in order to ensure that one young lady, as lovely as she was, remained silent. There was too much to do otherwise.<
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“You need not take a good deal of time over it,” Lieutenant James continued, when silence had crept between them for some moments. “You shall simply have to attend a few balls and the like and ensure that the lady is quite well and does not have the tendency for gossip.” He hesitated and looked a little more keenly into Edward’s face. “She did not make out your face, did she?”
“I do not think so,” Edward muttered, passing a hand over his eyes and realizing that he had very little choice but to do what the lieutenant suggested. It was, he supposed, a wise decision and certainly would ensure that the lady was both well and would remain silent about what she had witnessed. If, in mixing with the ton, he heard rumors and whispers about the man that had been murdered on a quiet London street, then he would know that she had not managed to remain quiet as she had promised.
“I am aware that you seek Ravel,” Lieutenant James said quietly. “He is still on your mind, is he not?”
Closing his eyes tightly for a moment, Edward gave him a jerky nod. One particular spy, going by the name of Ravel, had eluded Edward for many months, to the point that Edward almost believed him to be gone from England’s shores, if he were not dead. The man had come to their attention when he had been discovered stealing documents of vital importance from a peer of the realm who was involved in the war effort. Had he not eluded them, then Edward would have been able to capture him and discover what he knew, but the man was like a mouse, hiding and scurrying away without even the slightest sound. Whilst he had seen glimpses of him in London and whilst there had been reports of his movements in town, no one had ever managed to capture him. It was a very painful point, for Edward continued to feel that he had failed in his duties since he could not find Ravel and, therefore, was not ensuring that England’s shores were safe.
“I do not know where he could be,” Edward muttered, raking one hand through his thick, dark hair. “Surely such a man could not still be walking the London streets when not only I, but also many others, are searching for him?”
The lieutenant lifted one shoulder. “He is an excellent spy, Carroway. We must believe him to still be within England if we are to protect our King and our country. I know you wish to seek him out, but you must first ensure that this young lady is not telling her story to all and sundry! It is for her own protection as well as for our own.”
Edward nodded glumly, his gaze now fixed to the floor. “I understand,” he admitted, a trifle frustrated. “I shall do as you suggest.”
“We will find him, Carroway, never you fear,” the lieutenant said firmly, placing one hand on Edward’s shoulder. “But leave Ravel for the time being. Let us ensure that the murderer of Stirling is found and caught, before we think of him again. Even if Stirling had begun to turn against us, we have a responsibility to discover what was done to him and why.”
“Indeed,” Edward murmured, not liking to think of his friend turning his back on England and instead looking towards France. “I shall do so.”
“And I do not think that seeing this young lady again will be an unpleasant task,” the lieutenant finished with a grin. “After all, from your description of her, she seems quite tolerable.”
Edward swallowed hard, not wanting the lieutenant to see just how much he had been affected by the lady. Even now, when he recalled looking down into her face and seeing her eyes look back at him, hazy and unclear, his whole body jolted quietly. Her hair had been pinned carefully away from her face, with a few tendrils around her temples, and he had found himself wanting to brush his fingers through it so that he might feel its softness. It had been a very strange moment, for while he had been urgent in his need to seek assurances from her that she would not say to anyone what she had seen, he had also felt himself overwhelmed by the beauty of her. Given that he had not felt a single flicker of emotion for any other creature such as she before, it had been quite a remarkable moment.
“I shall take if from your silence that you agree it will be a pleasant task,” the lieutenant chuckled, lightening the atmosphere somewhat. “Very good, Carroway, very good. Then I wish you well with your foray back into society.”
“I can hardly wait,” Edward muttered, his voice dripping with irony as he left the lieutenant and walked from the room.
Chapter Two
Titania was, for the first time, ready and prepared long before her two sisters. Her cousin was, from what the maid had said, being cajoled by Lady Whitehaven, as she had been before, which meant that there was still some time before they quit the house to make their way to Lord Mitchell’s ball.
It was to be their grand entrance back into society, and Titania found herself almost anxious with the anticipation of walking into the ballroom and seeing the crowd, hearing the music, and watching couples take to the floor. Of course, this had been meant to be their second ball of the Season, but ever since her fainting fit outside the house some four days ago, her mother had insisted that she rest. Titania had tried to protest but had not garnered the support of her sisters nor of her cousin, since they were all quite glad that they would not have endure the London Season for some days yet. That had been most frustrating, for there had almost been a look of delight in Merry and Catherine’s eyes as they had steadfastly agreed with their mother that Titania should rest and that they, as a family, should remain at home until Titania was strong enough to return.
Frustrated, Titania shook her head to herself and rose from her chair by the fire to wander to the drawing room window. A slight shiver caught her as she recalled what she had seen the last time she had looked out at this particular scene, remembering the horror that had washed over her as she saw the man falling to the ground, enduring such a vicious attack that she had not known what to do other than attempt to prevent it in some way.
It had been quite ridiculous to run from the house in her underthings and covered only with a dressing gown. Now that she reflected upon it, Titania realized just how foolish she had been, for it had been as though she had run directly into the welcoming arms of danger. The man with the knife had advanced upon her without hesitation, and she had found herself deeply afraid that he would cut her heart from her chest. Yes, she had found the courage to fight against him in an attempt to prevent him from doing what he had said, but had it not been for her rescuer, then Titania had very little idea of what might have occurred. Would she have been held somewhere at the murderer’s leisure? Or would she too have been found the following morning, lying dead on the street?
She closed her eyes tightly as another shudder ran through her. It did not bear thinking about.
Opening her eyes, Titania let out a long breath and thought about what she had discovered when she had awoken. Her hand had been held tightly in a fist, even when she had struggled with unconsciousness, as though she knew she would need to hold onto whatever it was that was within. Once she had been left alone, she had opened her hand and had stared down at the small vial, with the remains of a cord tied to it. Had the murderer been wearing this about his neck? Was it of some importance to him? Would it somehow lead her to discover who the murderer was? All sorts of questions had plagued her mind, and she had been unable to prevent herself from thinking of the situation for a good many hours, wondering whom she might tell of this small vial. Of course, given that she had made a promise to the stranger who had saved her from the murderer, she had quickly realized that the only person she could share this item with was that man himself – although she had very little idea as to whom he was. Her eyes had been so blurred with fatigue, fright, and relief that she had struggled to make out his features and could only recall a pair of eyes searching her own features, as though desperate to discover some secret she held deep within her.
“It seems we are ready at last.”
Titania turned quickly, thrusting away the last of her thoughts as she greeted her mother. “Then Dinah is to attend with us?”
“She is.” Lady Whitehaven’s lips were pulled tight, her expression dark as she beckoned to Ti
tania. “Your sisters are prepared and ready. Come now, we must go. I intend to have a little enjoyment this evening, even if your cousin is determined to make certain that I do nothing but cajole and argue with her!”
Titania, who wished that her sisters and cousin could find some enjoyment from the Season and that they would look forward to such events, sighed her agreement and took her mother’s arm. “I do not understand it, Mama.”
“Nor do I,” Lady Whitehaven said, with earnest. “Have they not seen the joy on your sister Eliza’s face, now that she is wed and settled?” She shook her head, walking along the corridor towards the front of the house. “I am aware that Eliza’s courtship was not particularly easy, but it brought about a very satisfactory ending, did it not?”
“It did,” Titania agreed, smiling to herself as she remembered how joyous Eliza had been when she had informed them all that she was now engaged to Lord Avondale. “One that I hope that I, too, can find for myself.”
“I am quite certain you shall,” Lady Whitehaven said with alacrity. “For you, at the very least, will capture the attention of some of the finest gentlemen in all of London, simply by your smiles and your willingness to engage in conversation. They will see you as open and willing to accept their interest – which is more than I can say for your sisters.” She arched one eyebrow as they reached the carriage, where Merry, Catherine, and Dinah were already waiting. None of them bore any smiles but instead appeared to be quite put out about going to one of the most wonderful balls of the Season. Titania could not help but laugh at their dull expressions, rolling her eyes at Merry as they approached the carriage.
“Do try and appear to be enjoying yourself this evening, Merry,” she chided, as they climbed into the carriage. “There may be a particular gentleman who catches your eye, might there not?”
“I hardly think so,” Merry replied with a sigh. “I shall make no attempt to catch their eye either.”
