The Duchess and the Spy

by Marly Mathews

  “Are you telling me that…that you…you were always looking for me?”

  “I had a hand in it, aye. Your uncle wanted the Earth searched for you, and we did all that we could.”

  “We, being the branch of Intelligence you work for.”

  “You could say that.”

  She sighed. “Pierre moved me around quite a bit, and France is a large country to get lost in.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I wish you had found me sooner, and oh, I wish I had possessed the courage to use my magic against him…I wish I had killed him to ensure my escape. I have never...” her voice broke with emotion. “I have never been able to cause that kind of harm with my magic…I’ve never been able to force myself to do it. I suppose…I suppose I’m too damn soft for my own good.”

  “Not soft. You possess more courage than most, Isabella.” He smiled at her. Her heart warmed. She couldn’t stay mad at him for long, perhaps, he had spoken in haste against her…mayhap, he hadn’t actually meant what he’d said. Many said things they didn’t mean. With that, he took a step toward her.

  “Why don’t you come home with me? This house is no longer your house, Isabella. You are my wife, your place is by my side, and mine is at your side.”

  Christopher needed her to see how much he needed her—how much he wanted her. He had a feeling she’d been eavesdropping again, and had heard something she shouldn’t have. If he couldn’t make her see sense, then, he would do something to put some sense back into her.

  He marched over to her, ignored her startled protest, and picked her up, and threw her kicking and screaming over his shoulder. He patted her affectionately on the rump, and heard her groan in frustration, as she whacked him squarely on the back.

  “You…you…wretched cur! You put me done this instant,” she commanded.

  “Come now, my darling, do be accommodating. You are my wife, and I am taking you back where you belong. You admitted yourself that you wrote that diary when you were a girl. Well, let me remind you darling, that you are no longer a girl. Why, you might even have my child growing inside of you right now.”

  “Insufferable!” But she didn’t finish her thought, as she considered his words. Good heavens, he was right. He may have gotten her with child, and though the thought sent a shiver of delight went through her, she knew that he was only saying it, to stop her rambling. She was only a mere Frenchwoman—who was a witch without her powers that was only good for entertainment, so why would he want her to carry, and have his child? It didn’t the remotest amount of sense.

  “Nonetheless, I shan’t go anywhere with you, Christopher. Put me down!”

  “I would advise you against trying to get your own way on this one, dearest,” he murmured, “And cease your constant struggling, you will only succeed in harming yourself, and hurting that beautiful knee of yours.” She was just about to begin fighting him again when he reached the stairwell and began walking down them.

  “I see you’ve finally decided to behave.”

  “Fiddlesticks.”

  “I smell the country…I think we have company,” he said suddenly.

  “Isabella?” It was Roselyn!

  “Laddie, if you do not put my niece down, then I will be forced to give you a sound thrashing.”

  “Damnation,” he muttered, carefully putting her back on her feet. She stood for a few moments, trying to collect her composure.

  “Uncle Duncan, Roselyn,” she exclaimed, going over to greet them.

  “As you see, sir, I have found and delivered your niece back to you…however, she is not in your custody anymore, she is in mine, as she is now my wife.”

  “Tried to make an honest man out of this riffraff, did you, Isabella?” Duncan asked chuckling.

  She looked over at Christopher’s petulant look and smiled. “I think you might have struck a nerve, Uncle. He seems quite put out.”

  “And well he should! He took a bloody long time fetching you home! So, he married you, eh? I suppose he now thinks he is master of your life. We shall have to do something about that. Are you styling yourself as Lady Wyndham, or sticking with Duchess?”

  “I uh…well, Christopher wanted me to go by Lady Wyndham.”

  “I see,” Duncan said, eyeing him warily. “If you’d like, I could toss him out on his ear, Bella.”

  “No…no, that’s quite all right, Uncle. If you’re looking for Jason, he’s at Covington House.”

  “He usually is when we’re in London,” Roselyn said. “I can’t imagine why.” She smiled.

  “Well, I suppose Wyndham is worthy of you. He is a good chap, and Jason thinks the world of him.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Christopher said.

  “Oh, indeed, now I need only train him out of calling me that blasted Frenchwoman.”

  “Is that so?” Duncan asked, his eyes hardening. “Perhaps, I do have to bloody your lip, laddie.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go to the bother, Uncle. I am sure I can train him out of his stubborn ways.”

  “Most wives do think that,” Duncan admitted. “Ah, well, if you call her that blasted Frenchwoman in front of me, or even in front of Jason, you shall have a fight on your hands, laddie.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  She looked at Christopher. He was trying awfully hard to behave himself in front of her relations. She sighed heavily.

  “I shall leave you three in peace, while I go and attend to an errand,” Christopher said, quickly taking his leave. One minute he was hell bent on sticking it out with her, and the next minute he was doing a disappearing act. He was a conundrum.

  She called for tea, while they went to sit in the White Saloon.

  “Where is Daphne?” Roselyn asked softly, as they settled themselves on the sofa.

  “She…that is…I uh…I had to leave her behind in France.”

  “We understand,” Duncan asked. “How…did you escape with Wyndham?”

  “No…I sort of came over on a French Ship,” she said.

  “I take it you were forced to leave Daphne behind, eh?” Duncan asked softly. She wanted to spill her guts to him, she really did, and now that Christopher wasn’t around, she didn’t think there was any point in keeping it a secret anymore.

  “I am in a terrible scrape, Uncle Duncan. I had to do things I didn’t want to do in order to ensure my safety and that of Daphne’s.”

  “What did they make you do, dearest?” he asked, as Roselyn went over and rang for tea.

  “I…they…that is the man who took me…my bastard of an uncle, Pierre Dubois, he wasn’t a kindly man. And…he is my uncle, he was Aunt Claudette’s uncle as well. Oh, what a horrid man he is.”

  “I know,” Duncan said, anger lighting his eyes. “I know exactly what sort of a bastard he was, Isabella. Pray continue, tell me everything.”

  “I had to agree to become a…well…to…”

  “Become an informant of sorts?” he supplied.

  “Aye.”

  “And you’re not going to actually give them anything they can use, are you, Bella?”

  “Indeed not, Uncle Duncan.”

  “Well, I know that your husband and most of his family work for the Crown. For the most part, I am removed from that life now…when Claudette died, and you were taken, I didn’t have the heart for it anymore.”

  “I understand, Uncle Duncan. The trouble is…I don’t know what to do…if I make one wrong step…I could cause Daphne her life.”

  “Hmm…aye, quite a grave situation indeed. We shall face it together. I am quite certain that your husband could shed some light onto this for us.”

  “Pray, he can’t ever know, Uncle. He can’t. He will think so badly of me.”

  “I am quite certain he already has his suspicions, he is not a daft man, dear.”

  “I think you should tell him, and Jason,” Roselyn said. “You can’t keep your secrets forever, and if they in any way endanger you, then, you must have it all out with him. As your husband, you owe hi
m that much.”

  “I suppose, you are right,” she said, clenching her hands together in her lap. It felt good to confess all, and yet, she didn’t want Christopher to know the truth, even though she knew he probably already knew, confirming it to him, would make her feel wretched.

  “Are you staying here?” she asked.

  “Elphinstone House is being redecorated and Grandmamma invited us to stay with her. We weren’t aware that you had been married, so we thought that you would be staying here, and we would be able to have a visit.” She smiled. Her grandmother seemed to be Grandmamma to everyone in the family, and Rose had always called her that as Duncan’s mother was dead, Isabella’s paternal grandmother had also perished in The Terror.

  “When will Grandmamma arrive?”

  “Probably by tomorrow,” Duncan supplied, “Though in truth, she should have arrived with us, but Elise is traveling along with Adaira, and they had to take extra rest breaks for the dear, because Elise can’t sit in a carriage for very long anymore. Everyone rejoiced when Mary sent the news that you were coming home, and your Aunt Elise became so excited that she insisted upon accompanying your grandmother. The women in your family are quite extraordinary.”

  Roselyn carefully unfurled a small watercolor painting that she had done just for Isabella.

  “I painted this for you,” she said, showing her the picture of Castle Moil. I knew that you would want to be reminded of home as soon as I saw you.”

  “You are a dear,” she breathed, staring at the vivid colors and uncanny authentic character of the painting.

  “Ah, yes, she does have the gift. She’s even painted a few portraits for families that live near us. I think she should paint you as well, Bella, as she’s captured you quite well in this picture.”

  Isabella stared at her younger self. She looked so carefree—so happy. A lump lodged in her throat as she realized how much she’d lost—and now being back in England, how much she had gained. She could never go back to that simpler time, but she could remember it in her heart for the rest of her days.

  Christopher came back into the Saloon, and she finally lost it. She had to know what he’d meant earlier. “Do you think that I am only good for one thing, Christopher?” she asked softly.

  He looked shocked, and Duncan and Roselyn gasped.

  “Now…you were eavesdropping,” he accused. “I knew it. You have it all wrong. I wasn’t talking about you, you silly woman, I was talking about Merryville’s mistress.”

  “Now,” Duncan cleared his throat. “I would rather not talk about such women with my young impressionable daughter present.”

  “Oh, Papa, I know all about men and their sins…I know how some men keep mistresses on the side.”

  “You do?”

  “Aye, Papa.”

  Duncan looked uncomfortable, as a footman brought the tea round.

  “Well, as it is, Merryville’s mistress has caused a heap of trouble for us, and he is in quite a bad way, and I shall leave it at that because your uncle is quite right, this is not the kind of civil whiskers we should be having in polite society.”

  Isabella felt wretched. She had to stop thinking the worst of everything Christopher said and did.

  “Oh, poor Lord Merryville,” Isabella lamented.

  “You are referring to Lady Horn, are you not?” Duncan asked.

  “Aye.”

  “She was a conniving woman even before she married the earl,” Duncan mused. “Two years after her marriage, he died mysteriously and her young son that conveniently resembled a certain Baron is now going to inherit the title. She received everything that she planned on getting, and never even cared about what happened to her darling Dudley, as she always referred to him as. What I can’t understand is how a friend of yours got interested in the devious Nellie. I would warrant that she is probably old enough to be his mother.”

  “I shan’t eavesdrop in the future. No good comes from it,” she sighed.

  “Oh, well, my love, I wouldn’t make that sort of a promise, we both know you’re likely to fail at keeping it.”

  Duncan and Roselyn laughed. “She does have a penchant for trouble,” Duncan mused. “Oh, what a handful the three of them were back when they were wee ones.”

  “Papa used to say that Jason and Isabella together were a recipe for trouble,” Roselyn laughed. “He didn’t have to worry about me. I was an angel.”

  “Sure you were,” Isabella laughed. “Your halo was askew most of the time.”

  Roselyn had made the tea and started to pass the cups out of everyone. “Ah, this is one of the things I missed in France. Pierre, couldn’t abide tea.” Isabella stopped realizing her error.

  “Tell us more about Pierre,” Christopher invited. “I saw the little prick at the bal masque, and yet, I don’t know half as much of what I should know about the little bastard.”

  “Indeed, I think you should tell him everything,” Duncan said.

  “I don’t think he wants to know…and I can’t say I want to tell him.”

  Christopher sighed heavily.

  “The one thing I will always regret is not being here for Aunt Claudette, Uncle Duncan. I am so sorry that I wasn’t here to help her. I should have been there for all of you. If only Pierre Dubois had never been born, and sometimes I wish I had never been born as well. I seem to cast a shadow across the lives of all those I hold dear to my heart.”

  “Never say that again, Bella,” Duncan said sternly, emotion catching in his voice. “We all love you dearly, and wouldn’t have our lives any other way. Your presence in them has enriched our lives. You have cast a light in our lives, not a shadow, and I won’t have you thinking any differently. Is that understood?”

  “Completely,” she whispered. “Thank you, Uncle Duncan.”

  “Take your hand and shove it somewhere, Gibbons,” Adaira ordered in her strong voice. “I am not feeble, you daft man.” She slammed her cane against the floor again to better demonstrate her meaning.

  “Grandmamma!” Isabella said happily. Now everyone would let the Pierre subject drop.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Ah, it is so good to have you back in the bosom of the family,” her grandmother said, embracing her. Elise sighed happily, and embraced her as well. “What a grand day today is,” Adaira said. Christopher came to stand beside her. “Lord Wyndham,” her grandmother said, eyeing him warily. “Why are you here?”

  “He is my husband, Grandmamma.”

  “I do believe I am losing my hearing. I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  “You heard me correctly.”

  “So, you’re infatuation with him has been made legal. Congratulations, my dear girl. However, I would have liked to have had you back as an unmarried woman. Alas, we can’t always have what we want in life. Are you still getting into mischief with Lord Elphinstone, laddie?”

  She giggled. Hearing her grandmother call Christopher laddie was too amusing. She liked it when her uncle had done it but her Grandmother calling him it was even funnier.

  “I…I think I’ve rather grown out of that, Madam.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it, Christopher. I think you’re still able to find mischief.”

  “You can as well, wife.”

  She smiled.

  “So I suppose that makes you Lady Wyndham while you’re in England. It’s a touch below being a duchess, but at least he’s in line for a dukedom. Now, after such a long travel, I need three things. A good strong drink, a nice hot bath, and a good long sleep. Are you staying here with me, dearest?”

  “I should say not. We are residing at my townhouse,” Christopher said.

  “Why did you marry him?”

  “He gave me little choice, Grandmamma. It was the only respectable thing to do.”

  “And as my wife, she has my protection.”

  “I do hope you’re not insinuating that we failed to protect her?” Adaira asked sharply.

  “Nothing of the sort, Madam. I merely
wanted to express that Isabella will be safe with me.”

  “Hmm…” she said, sizing him up and down. “I suppose she could have done worse.”

  “Probably better than what she could have found on her own.”

  “I think…is that an insult, sir?”

  Duncan peeked out from the parlour, and then ducked back in, when he saw the furiously outraged expression on Adaira’s face.

  Then, he stuck his head out again, and said, “Watch it laddie, you just angered a very scary Scottish Lassie,” he announced, staring at them both wide-eyed.

  “Are you afraid of her, sir?” Christopher asked.

  “Bloody right I am, laddie. I learned a long time ago that you definitely do not challenge Adaira.”

  “Listen to your elders my wee laddie,” Adaira advised, squinting as she inspected every last inch of Christopher’s face. “And why exactly did my darling lass have to marry you?”

  “She had to marry me because I compromised her.”

  “Why you pugnacious libertine,” Adaira breathed icily, as she whirled away from him, and then turned back quickly, making him give her one of his more charming smiles.

  “I am neither pugnacious nor a libertine,” he denounced, winking mischievously over at Isabella. “Your dear lassie on the other hand, has a tendency to be quite contentious when she finds that things aren’t going the way that she wants them to. Unfortunately, you have clearly demonstrated that this personality flaw is a family trait.”

  “Christopher, you saucy man, you stop this behaviour right now. We are married. Why we were married is neither here nor there, now. It is done, and it can’t be undone.”

  “Indeed,” Christopher said.

  “Hmm…in that case, I shall welcome you to the family, laddie. If you hurt my Isabella, I shall make you rue it bitterly. Is that clear?”

  “Quite.”

  “In that case, I think I shall go and have my drink or my hot bath….”

  “It is good that you stay on the good side of my Grandmother, Christopher, or else, she’ll cook you up something dire in her cauldron.”