Attracting the Spymaster: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 15)

by Arietta Richmond

  She nodded, and they settled into simply watching and listening. He wished, oh how strongly he wished, that he might reach out, and take her hand in his again, as he had before Partmann’s presence had disturbed their evening. But the magic of the moment was gone – the exigencies of life had forced themselves upon him, and he could no longer pretend – in fact, it would be unforgiveable for him to do so, for creating an illusion would not, in the long run, be kind to either of them.

  ~~~~~

  The carriage drew up before the home of Lord and Lady Hershmore, and Anna stepped down, joining the line of guests entering the building. Lord and Lady Hershmore had what Anna viewed as the misfortune to be the parents of Lord Charles Garwood. Quite how they had produced such an irresponsible reprobate, she wasn’t sure, for they were pleasant enough people. Hopefully, the young man would be present at this evening’s soiree. If she was lucky, perhaps some of his friends would also attend.

  In this house, there was at least one footman – Jones, a close friend of Mary’s cousin – who was aware of Anna’s search for information. She would speak to him if she got the chance. Nearly two weeks had passed since the evening at the theatre – an evening which Anna remembered with bittersweet pleasure. She had known, when she allowed herself to pretend that it was all real, that the reassertion of reality would bring pain – she simply had not expected that to happen so fast.

  But Partmann had seen to that. Since that day, whilst she had seen Lord Setford a number of times, they had not been quite so relaxed with each other, as if he too had found the situation difficult. She wondered why. Pushing those thoughts aside, for vain girlish longings would do her no good, she considered the situation. Partmann’s meeting with Garwood and friends was due within a few weeks, and they still had no idea where ‘the old house’ was. If they could not discover that, then the slim advantage they had gained was lost. And the Prince Regent was due back to London in three weeks or less.

  Perhaps tonight would bring the answer.

  Once she reached the parlour, having been greeted by her hosts, Anna was pleased to see Garwood over to one side, surrounded by his cronies. She circulated, talking and gossiping, whilst keeping an eye on him. Once this was all over, she rather thought she could do without another social engagement for a year or more. There was only so much inane conversation one could stomach in a few short months! At least autumn was upon them, and soon winter and the Christmas season would mean that many would retreat to their country estates.

  The evening wore on, with some musical performances from the daughters of the house, a lot of conversation of no import whatsoever, and a large amount of food and drink. Later in the evening, when yet another of his sisters took her place at the pianoforte, Garwood and his coterie slipped out of the room. Anna watched them go with interest, and shortly after, excused herself, claiming to need some air. She stepped out through the terrace doors, letting the door close softly behind her. The cool evening air was refreshing, and she walked along the terrace, looking out at the small formal garden below.

  The terrace ran the full length of the house, and doors from various rooms opened to it. Part way along, the flicker of candlelight came through one set of doors, throwing moving shadows upon the paving of the terrace. Curious, Anna went towards it. The shadows indicated that a number of people were in the room and, as she drew close, she could see that the door was open very slightly, to allow air through the room.

  Voices came to her, through that open door. Voices she now recognised. Garwood, and his friends. She stopped, then moved, as quietly as she could, into the shadows, against the wall, directly beside the door.

  “…in two weeks. Can’t say I’m happy about it, but I suppose we have to meet somewhere. That old place was barely adequate as a gatekeeper’s cottage, and that was before Peterman let it get so rundown.”

  “True – but that rather makes it ideal, doesn’t it? Who’d ever suspect that we’d go there voluntarily?”

  There was a scatter of laughter from the men at his words.

  “Well, we’re not exactly going there voluntarily. But it’s necessary, if we are to achieve our aim and bring the dishonourable madman down.”

  “Yes – and you have to admit it’s convenient, so close to the main part of town. There aren’t many large estates left so close. It’s only survived because it’s close up against the parkland. And it’s not the sort of place where we’ll be overheard – when we discuss the… details… of our plan.”

  “So, I’ll see you there, and until then, we will just have to imagine how good it will be when we see the deed finally done.”

  “Have you heard the latest of his excesses? You’re right, we must put up with whatever it takes, until we can see the deed done. It’s our patriotic duty to protect our country from his profligacy.”

  They all made resounding sounds of agreement, and she heard the clink of glasses as they refilled their drinks from the decanter. Carefully, she eased away, back along the terrace, and in through another door, into a darkened room. Another parlour, from the look of it. Once through that, and out into the hallway, she went in search of the necessary, her mind running over what she had heard. They had been talking about the place of their meeting, and from the description she had pieced together from their words, surely it would be possible to find the place. She knew of Lord Peterman, and was quite certain that Lord Setford would know the location of his estates.

  Once she had found the necessary, and made use of it, she went back towards the main parlour. In the hallway she discovered Jones, on duty, waiting to provide whatever was needed. She stopped, and spoke to him. Once he realised who she was, he was happy to talk.

  “Jones, I am going to ask you something a little unusual. I would like to know your honest opinion of Lord Charles. I will hold your words in strictest confidence, of course.”

  “Yes, my Lady. I… it’s a little hard to put into the best words, my Lady. He used to be the nicest of young gentlemen. But then… I don’t think that the friends he spends his time with are the best choice, my Lady.”

  The man flushed, as if feeling disloyal, yet it was obvious that he was sincere.

  “Oh? Are they badly behaved to the staff?”

  “Only… only as much as is normal, my Lady. Please forgive me, no insult meant to you, for I know what you’ve done for Mary and the others, but most of the ton are not so worthwhile.”

  “Never fear, Jones, I am hard to offend. And I suspect that my opinion of most of them aligns with yours. But what has changed in his behaviour, then?”

  “It’s more about his manner, my Lady – more arrogant, more… intense… about everything.”

  “I see. Do you know where he is now? He and his friends left the room when his sister was just about to play.”

  As the question left Anna’s lips, the library door opened, and the young men spilled out, Garwood in the lead. He paused, and she wondered if he’d heard any of it. He glared at her suspiciously. Jones looked nervous and chose the wisest course.

  “Will that be all, my Lady?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Jones bowed, and went rapidly towards the servants’ stairs. Anna turned towards Garwood, and decided to give him no opportunity to be unpleasant. She drew herself up, and looked at him as if he was the most unpleasant insect that she had ever seen.

  “Lord Charles. I had wondered where you disappeared to. And then Lady Charmian began to play. I understood completely. Of course, I then found good cause to leave the room myself. Even a constitutional up and down the hall is preferable.”

  Garwood gaped at her a moment, then burst into snorting laughter, shocked that she had been so blunt about his sister’s musical ability. Anna was relieved, for she had barely listened to a bar of the girl’s playing – she was simply trading upon the chance that a brother would not be, in any way, sympathetic.

  “I see my Lady. Very clever of you.”

  “I believe it is now safe to return to the
parlour. If you’ll excuse me?”

  The cluster of young men bowed, their education asserting itself, and she turned, her expression imperious, and walked away from them.

  Preventing herself from bursting into laughter was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

  ~~~~~

  Cecil browsed through the shelves of Bigglesworth’s Books. He was distracting himself, allowing his mind to work in the background. Frustration simmered inside him – the four weeks that Partmann had nominated at the theatre was half gone, and he was still no closer to knowing where ‘the old house’ was. This failure was intolerable. So, he looked for books which might help with the education of the girls and their children, hoping that the solution would come to him, somehow, in the next few days, or that one of his men might produce a result.

  Bigglesworth watched him, making no comment. In the fifteen years that he had served as Setford’s valet, before retiring to the bookshop, he had come to know the man’s moods well.

  Usually, this intensity brought to an ordinary activity was a sign that a breakthrough on something was nigh.

  An hour later, a parcel of books under his arm, Cecil left the shop, and made his way towards Lady Farnsworth’s home. No matter how frustrated he was by the lack of progress with capturing the conspirators, his day was brightened by the thought of seeing Lady Farnsworth. His time spent with her had become the highlight of his days.

  The only shadow on that enjoyment was the fact that their courtship was a fiction, a fiction which would, inevitably, end, once this case was resolved.

  Chapter Eight

  Anna sat at her escritoire, considering the paper before her. She had written down, to the best of her memory, every word that she had heard the previous evening. She wanted to be sure that she had it all, before Lord Setford arrived. She wished that she’d had more time to speak to Jones, for his comment that Garwood had once been a far nicer man was interesting – perhaps Jones could identify the exact point at which he’d changed, which friend had been the catalyst.

  Her thinking was interrupted by the sound of the door, and she rose, and went to greet Lord Setford when he was shown into the room. As always, he was immaculately turned out. When his eyes met hers, she forgot, for a moment, the important sheet of paper that she held, forgot that this was all a fiction, forgot everything but how good he looked, how glad she was that he was there. She greeted him, flustered, called for coffee, then invited him to sit. Only then did she remember the paper that she held.

  “Last night, I discovered something.”

  She offered him the paper.

  “And this is?”

  “A record of everything I overheard, from the mouths of Garwood and his cronies. I believe I have remembered it all correctly.”

  He withdrew his eyes from hers, and somehow the room felt colder for the lack of his direct regard. She watched him as he read, his utter stillness telling her that a great deal of thinking was occurring. After some time, he lifted his gaze to hers again.

  “Most, most interesting. They barely conceal their intent. Such over confidence. I believe that we may now be able to identify this ‘old house’. Let’s hope that Lord Peterman’s estates near London do not boast a plethora of gatekeepers’ cottages.”

  “I had hoped you would say that. I am, almost, surprised that you didn’t instantly tell me where it is. I had thought that your knowledge of the homes and estates of the ton was encyclopaedic.”

  He laughed, that delightful, full bodied and unaffected laughter that was such a contrast to his normally serious manner, and Anna found herself smiling, despite the seriousness of what they discussed. In such moments, she forgot, again, that this courtship was a fiction.

  “I am not, my dear lady, quite omniscient – although there are times when my life would be far, far easier were it so. Did you discover any other things of interest? And, for that matter, how did you contrive to overhear a conversation like this?”

  “I simply found myself in need of air. And fortune smiled on me when I walked on the terrace.”

  “Oh? In what manner?”

  “I heard voices from a partly open door. So, I behaved as people always imagine spies to do, and skulked in the shadows against the wall. They really had not the slightest thought for the fact that anyone might have been out on the terrace. I begin to see why so many secrets cease to be secrets. Then I took myself back into the house, and had a short conversation with one of the staff. Jones informed me that Lord Charles used to be ‘a much nicer young gentleman’ until he took up with his current group of friends. I did not get the chance to hear more, for just as we spoke, Garwood and his friends came bursting out into the hallway. I am sure they suspected something, so I drew myself up haughtily, impugned his sister’s musical skills, implying that I had, as he and his friends had, made an excuse to avoid sitting through her playing, then, whilst he gaped at me, I simply regarded him arrogantly, turned, and left him standing there. I rather think I shocked the young man.”

  She had succeeded in making Lord Setford laugh again. At that moment, the coffee arrived, and they settled into more dignified silence as they sipped from their cups. When he spoke again, his voice held a warmth that she surely did not imagine.

  “My Lady, you are truly a delight. I believe that I would have enjoyed seeing that. But… are you sure that they did not overhear you questioning the footman? I would not want you to put yourself at risk.”

  “I cannot be entirely sure. But what will they think? That I am a nosy, blunt and slightly obnoxious older woman? Why would arrogant young men like that ever consider that I could be anything more?”

  “Perhaps you have the right of it. Very few men are likely to fully appreciate your wit and intelligence. When it comes to spying, women have a great advantage, in that nearly all men underestimate them.”

  “I have noted that fact, all too often in my life. And, I admit, I have also taken advantage of it, whenever I could.”

  He reached out, as if unconscious of doing so, and took her hand.

  “My Lady, I give you my word that I will never underestimate you. I am not that big a fool! I admit, however, that I rather enjoy watching you take advantage of those who do underestimate you.”

  She stilled, the warmth of his hand on hers spreading through her, and their eyes held. There was so much there, so much unsaid. So much that she wanted to say, but was, she realised, afraid to. It was a lowering thing to realise that here, she had found something to fear, in the chance that a love stated was a love that could be rejected. She shook that thought aside – she was no green girl, to dream impossible dreams.

  “Thank you, my Lord. I am glad that I am able to entertain you. But… turning the conversation back to our investigations, I believe that I will make an excuse to visit Lady Hershmore again. It seems that I am clumsy, for I appear to have misplaced my bracelet, and I’m sure that the last time I had it was when I wore it to her soiree…”

  Anna fluttered her lashes, and attempted to look like a forgetful, useless woman. Lord Setford regarded her carefully, a smile playing about his lips. After a moment, he nodded, and his fingers tightened on hers, where her hand still lay in his grasp.

  “I believe that might well convince many people. Especially those who do not know you well.”

  She felt a blush rise in her cheeks as he continued to study her closely, but she continued the performance, her lashes fluttering again, and a little wry twist to her mouth. His eyes followed the movement of her lips, and the heat of his gaze brought a tiny gasp from her. His eyes widened. Then, he did the completely unexpected. He lifted his other hand to cup her cheek, and leant forward, to brush his lips over hers softly.

  In an instant, she was that confused, forgetful, fluttery woman she had been attempting to portray, for all rational thought had escaped her, and only the sensation of his touch remained. He drew back, his eyes sparkling with amusement, and with something more, something she could not read.

 
“Perfect, my dear. Now you have the look exactly.”

  “My Lord, I am not sure if that is a compliment or not. But if this is how I must look, when I arrive at Lady Hershmore’s, then perhaps, immediately before I go there, I will need your assistance.”

  He laughed, releasing her hand and leaning back a little, but the heat did not leave his eyes.

  “My Lady, if this is the assistance you require, I will always be more than happy to provide it.”

  ~~~~~

  Anna chose her time carefully, after making some discreet enquiries through Mary.

  The day and time which she chose to visit Lady Hershmore was a day and time when it was absolutely guaranteed that the Lady would not be at home. Jones opened the door to her knock, and, in case any other staff were nearby, she gave her excuse for being there. Jones, showing great concern, showed her to the parlour, offered her tea, then went and asked various of the staff to search for the bracelet whilst she waited.

  A maid delivered the tea, and Jones returned to tell her what he had set in motion. She took the chance and asked him more about Lord Charles Garwood and his friends.

  ~~~~~

  Lord Charles Garwood stood on the terrace of his London home, smoking. His mother hated the habit, and refused to allow it in the house, so, rather than face her continual irritation, he had come to simply take his pleasure on the terrace. He supposed he need not have bothered today, as she was out, yet it was a pleasant day, and the autumn sun was warm – it was no hardship to stand on the terrace.

  He leant against the wall, beside the parlour door and thought. It would not be long now, and their planning would come to an end. It was time for action. They would meet one last time. Would discover from Partmann just where the Prince Regent had chosen to establish Partmann’s wife, once he had returned to London, and then they would choose the day, the place and the time. The tension of waiting was almost unbearable, but he would endure it. It was for the best for his country, no matter what others might think. If he did not survive it, then so be it, it was his patriotic duty.