Once Upon a Spy: A Secrets and Seduction Book

by Sheridan Jeane

  “You need to escort Catherine home. What if they follow your carriage?”

  Daniel appeared torn, but he finally nodded. “I’ll send word to your brother about the attack.”

  With a nod, Robert left them.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Thus it is that in war the victorious strategist only seeks battle after the victory has been won, whereas he who is destined to defeat first fights and afterwards looks for victory.

  - Sun Tzu

  Robert entered Lady Wilmot’s ballroom and spied his hostess and her daughter, Lady Elizabeth, standing along the back wall. The dowager countess loved holding events in her home. She selected her guests with care, only sending invitations to those people she found interesting or entertaining. On Robert’s first visit, he’d unknowingly earned a permanent spot by singing Santa Lucia.

  Lady Wilmot dragged her attention away from the performance on the makeshift stage and furrowed her brow at him as he approached. As soon as she recognized him, her mildly annoyed expression disappeared, and she seemed delighted to see him.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” she murmured. “Welcome.” She glanced at the stage. “They’ve only just begun. I’ve always admired this acting troupe.” She motioned for him to take a vacant chair and then returned to her daughter’s side.

  Robert nodded to Lady Wilmot’s daughter Lady Elizabeth as she removed one of her glittering earbobs. Elizabeth nodded a greeting before returning her attention to the stage, rubbing at her earlobe. Perhaps her earbob had been clipped on too tightly. Elizabeth tended to fidget, always adjusting her jewelry or twirling one of her locks of curly black hair.

  Despite Elizabeth’s close friendship with Catherine, the two women were quite different. Where Catherine was calm, Elizabeth was dramatic.

  Except— Catherine had that surprising expertise with the knife. That was decidedly dramatic. Intriguing as well.

  On stage, Miss Winter fluttered a fan and batted her eyes, and Robert heard a number of audience members chuckle in response. He might not be able to follow the plot, but clearly Miss Winter had captured everyone’s attention.

  It only took a moment for Robert to become engrossed in the performance. The timing was precise as the actors quickly entered and exited the stage. Everyone kept barely missing each another as they searched for the character Miss Winter played. She managed to hide in plain sight by changing into boy’s clothes, and no one recognized her. She laughed with the audience as she sent each of the other actors off on a wild goose chase.

  Once the scene ended, Lady Wilmot’s guests burst into exuberant applause. Miss Winter and the other members of her troupe made their bows and disappeared behind the curtain.

  A moment later, one of the other actors stepped in front of the curtain. “Thank you for your kind ovation. You nourish our spirits with such generous favor. Once we’ve changed out of our costumes, we’ll join you in the refreshment area, where Lady Wilmot will provide nourishment for our bodies as well.”

  Robert exited through an ornate side door and followed his nose until he found tables laden with a variety of delicious-smelling delicacies. A glowing ice sculpture of a phoenix rising from the flames perched in the center. It appeared to be illuminated from below with a reddish glow. A lamp of some sort? How had they managed to do that without melting the ice? Or setting the table on fire?

  He suddenly realized he was famished. Based on the crush of people surrounding the tables, many guests felt similar hunger pangs. It only took a few moments to fill his plate with some choice morsels, including some rather appetizing-looking shrimp. He bit into one, mentally apologizing to it for having maligned one of its brethren earlier that evening.

  He glanced up and noticed that most of the actors had arrived while he’d been preoccupied. Scanning the room, Robert searched for the diminutive Miss Winter. Movement near a door leading to the rear garden caught his attention and he recognized the little actress, now dressed in a pale-pink gown. A man wearing evening clothes disappeared through the doorway, and she followed him into the night.

  Just that fast, they were both gone.

  Blast it. How could he have let food distract him? He was terrible at being a spy. Frederick was much better at this sort of skullduggery.

  Although Robert hadn’t caught a glimpse of the man’s face, something about him set off mental alarm bells. The assignation must be important, otherwise she’d never have left with him.

  He thrust his plate into the hands of a passing footman and hurried after them.

  His feet clattered on the cold paving stones as he stepped into the courtyard and peered into the darkness. A cluster of wrought-iron chairs and a low table were all that greeted him. Miss Winter and her companion were gone.

  How could they disappear so quickly? After all, the moon shined brightly tonight— Miss Winter’s pale-pink gown should have been obvious.

  Since he could rule out supernatural involvement, he made the logical conclusion that they’d slipped back inside the house through another door.

  Robert crept closer to the next entrance, treading softly on the pavers so his leather-soled shoes didn’t betray him. In the near silence, the only sound came from the rustle of his clothing and the chaffing of tree branches.

  He stopped next to the door and pressed his body against the brick wall as he listened intently.

  There it was— the low rumble of a man’s voice followed by a woman’s soft reply.

  Robert leaned closer and risked glancing inside. The heavy curtains covering the door were open. However, a sheer fabric panel partially obscured his view. Even so, he spotted movement as an item passed from her hands to his.

  It had to be the church register. He moved closer for a better view, and the couple sprang apart as though caught in some illicit act.

  They’d spotted him.

  The pair banged through the room, no longer attempting to remain silent as they rushed toward the interior door— their only escape.

  “Damn.” Robert yanked open the exterior door. The billowing fabric of the sheer curtain wafted outside, along with a gust of warm air. As he pushed his way through, the curtain wrapped around his sleeve. He came close to yanking the supporting rod from the wall as he untangled himself. By the time he broke free, he was alone.

  He’d lost them.

  Robert stumbled through the room. He needed to catch them. It had been Miss Winter. He was certain of it. He’d recognized her pale-pink dress and the way she moved, even if he hadn’t seen her face. But who was the man?

  By the time Robert reached the hallway, it was empty. He sprinted down the corridor and through the doorway at the end, only to find himself back in the refreshment area.

  He quickly composed his features and raked his fingers through his hair. Not five feet in front of him stood Miss Winter, speaking with Lady Wilmot and Elizabeth. The book was nowhere in sight.

  Robert took a quick side-step and ducked away before Miss Winter spotted him. He scanned the nearby guests, but couldn’t identify the man she’d met. He sighed. Why couldn’t things be easier? Who had the blasted book? Every man in the room was dressed nearly identically, and not one of them was brandishing a church register.

  “Marvelous. Simply marvelous,” Lady Wilmot said to Miss Winter. “I couldn’t have been more pleased.”

  Elizabeth nodded her agreement, her ebony curls bouncing enthusiastically.

  The pair turned their attention to the next guest, and Miss Winter took the opportunity to move toward the buffet table, seemingly oblivious to Robert’s presence. He’d never locate that book without her help. He closed in behind her, intent on bringing down his prey. He only needed a few minutes alone with her—

  She’d only taken a couple of steps when two young women moved to block her path. They were both taller than Miss Winter, and at first they pretended not to see her despite their obvious tactics to intercept her. One of the women wore a dismal-looking pale-pink gown. Its skirts had the smal
ler silhouette that had been in fashion two seasons ago. The other woman’s pale-yellow gown made her resemble an anemic daffodil. The green ribbons trimming the dress only served to accentuate the effect.

  Frustrated, Robert eased to one side so he could pounce the moment the pair moved on.

  “All that running around on stage seemed quite foolish,” Pinky said. She pitched her bored voice so everyone nearby could hear her. “I can’t imagine why Mother insisted upon coming here tonight to see it.”

  “Perhaps she wanted us to see how far the mighty had fallen,” Daffodil replied with a smirk as she raked her gaze over Miss Winter.

  The actress couldn’t fail to register their comments, but she proceeded to skirt past the pair as though oblivious to their presence.

  “Oh my, speaking of whom,” Pinky said, “here’s the infamous Miss Winter.” As she turned her narrowed gaze toward her target, the sharp edge of her smile could have drawn blood. “I didn’t expect to find you here on display with the rest of the performers. I’d assumed you’d want to leave. It must be so difficult for you to perform at a function you formerly might have hoped to attend.”

  Robert tensed. What was this?

  The line of Miss Winter’s mouth tightened as she stopped to face the woman, but she gave no other sign that the barb had hit home. “Good evening, Miss Binford. What a surprise.” Her gaze raked over the outdated gown. “I hadn’t supposed I’d see you here this evening either.”

  Pinky— or rather, Miss Binford— gaped. “What?”

  Daffodil stepped forward. “How dare you, of all people, suggest that my dear friend doesn’t belong here? Her circumstances are not your concern. You overstep yourself.”

  Miss Winter looked confused, but when she replied, she addressed Miss Binford. “I’m sorry I offended you. It would be inexcusably rude of me to comment on your family’s straits. Even obliquely. You can’t imagine I’d stoop to such gauche behavior. It’s just that you’ve frequently mentioned your distaste for the theater, so naturally one would assume— but forgive me.”

  He wanted to applaud her. Well done.

  Miss Binford’s face flushed a shade darker than her dress. “Your words suggest you believe you possess a certain intimacy with me which I find unacceptable. I never should have spoken to someone of your status, and rest assured, it won’t happen again.” She spun on her heel and hurried away, her daffodil-dressed friend following closely behind.

  A titter of laughter erupted as a swirl of pale-green satin in the form of Lady Lydia swung to a stop in front of Miss Winter. Many people found Lydia’s barbed comments entertaining, but Robert wasn’t among them. Unfortunately, he doubted Miss Winter would either. Terrifying might be a more apt word from the victim’s point of view, and he had no doubt that Miss Winter had become a tempting target. Lydia’s nose for scandal frequently turned even the smallest infraction into a shocking scene.

  Lydia tapped her fingers against the furled fan she held as she contemplated the actress. “That was quite the set-down.” She flicked her fan open and examined it in a studied manner. “Am I to gather you’re well acquainted with Miss Binford?”

  Miss Winter swallowed. “As I’m sure you must have overheard, Miss Binford does not count me among her acquaintances.”

  Lady Lydia smiled in a crafty way as she met Miss Winter’s eyes. “That’s rather uncharitable of her. After all, you’re from the same town, are you not? Maidenhead?”

  Miss Winter didn’t hide her stunned expression quickly enough. Robert felt stunned as well. He knew a Squire Winter in Maidenhead. Was it possible? Could she be—

  “That’s what I thought. And you used to be a gentleman’s daughter, but now you’re not. Is that right?”

  “Used to be?” Miss Winter asked, uttering Robert’s thoughts as she raised her chin. What did Lydia mean by that comment?

  Robert held his breath. In the portentous pause, Lady Lydia appeared to savor the moment. He dreaded witnessing the sharp slice of her vicious tongue he knew was forthcoming. She wouldn’t be able to resist attacking such a vulnerable target. It wasn’t in her nature to be merciful. Despite his anger toward Miss Winter, listening to her being eviscerated by Lady Lydia would be a decidedly unpleasant experience. Should he intervene, or would that cause him to risk too much? Perhaps he should remain hidden and follow her.

  But this was Lydia.

  Damn. He had no real choice. He’d have to intervene.

  He took two steps toward her, only to be shouldered to one side by a brusque young man.

  “Miss Winter.” The boorish man stopped directly in front of her, smiling broadly and wholly unaware he’d placed himself between the two sparring women.

  Startled by the turn of events, Robert eased back, curious to see how events would now unfold.

  Perhaps it was Robert’s movement, perhaps something else, but Miss Winter glanced in his direction. Catching sight of him, her gaze first flickered with confusion and then recognition. As her eyes locked on his, she went pale.

  He had to admire her aplomb when she turned away from him and smiled up at the brash young man.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.

  - Aristotle

  Antonia’s mouth went dry at the sight of Lord Wentworth, but her head swirled as she felt his pull of attraction.

  He must have been the man she thought she’d seen peering through the window. Did he know she’d passed along the book? Probably not, or he wouldn’t be looking at her this way. He’d be cornering the man who had it and trying to take it by force.

  She glanced up at the young man who’d stepped between her and Lady Lydia.

  “Mister Yarrow,” Lady Lydia said from behind him, “apparently this will come as a surprise to you, but you happen to make an abysmally poor window.”

  Antonia had to force herself not to smile at the look of astonishment on the young man’s face as he spun to one side and blinked at Lady Lydia.

  “I beg your pardon, but you must have me confused with someone else. I have never put my hand to the task of building a window.” He glanced from Antonia to Lady Lydia and back again.

  Antonia sifted through her options. What would Lord Wentworth do? Would he make a scene? Try to drag her away by force? Waylay her at the end of the evening?

  Lady Lydia gave the young man a flat stare. “No, Mister Yarrow, I’m quite certain you haven’t. Apparently I must speak more simply to you.” She snapped her fan shut and then tapped it against the gloved palm of her hand. “I was referring to the fact that your figure is not made of a transparent substance such as a window pane. I assumed when you stood directly in front of me, you must have been under the impression that you were made of glass and thus would not interfere with my conversation with Miss Winter.”

  The young man’s mouth opened, closed, and then opened again, but he didn’t utter a word as his face turned a rather florid shade.

  “It appears you’ve been struck dumb,” Lady Lydia said as she flicked her fan back open. “Which I count as a distinct improvement.”

  “Ex-excuse me, Lady Lydia.” Mister Yarrow fumbled as he reached for her hand in a clumsy attempt to apologize.

  Lady Lydia furled her fan and rapped the back of his hand with it, causing him to yelp in pain.

  Antonia’s eyes went wide.

  Lord Wentworth moved closer, eyes fixed on her. “Miss Winter,” he said, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss against her skin, just above the spot where her glove ended. A shiver cascaded down her spine. “I must compliment you on a superb performance. You were quite lovely when disguised as a young boy, and surprisingly believable. I never would have guessed you could fool me so easily.”

  She recalled her deception at the embassy and blushed.

  Lady Lydia let out a snort of disdain. “She’s fooled many over the years. Ask her about her parents.” She turned on her heel and
stalked away.

  The sting of Lydia’s sharp tongue left Antonia speechless for a moment. Even after a year, words could still wound her. She needed to pull herself together. She inhaled sharply and then gave Lord Wentworth one of her most brilliant smiles. “Thank you for your generous praise. I always enjoy that particular role. It isn’t often I have the opportunity to dress as a boy.”

  “You character in Anne Blake was such a sweet, innocent young girl. Quite different from this one.”

  Her smile faltered.

  “I saw it tonight. I was relieved when I heard you’d be able to take the stage. Imagine my disappointment if I hadn’t caught you tonight.”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “How did you find me?”

  He gave her a slow, easy smile. “When I saw the show poster with your image, I found I couldn’t resist coming to see you.”

  “The posters.” She closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh of frustration. “I’d forgotten about them.”

  “Miss Winter.” Another young man stepped forward, intent on speaking with her. “You were charming tonight.”

  A crowd of waiting admirers surged forward. Lord Wentworth caught her eye as he leaned closer to her. Having him so close overwhelmed her senses. “We’ll speak more later,” he murmured into her ear before stepping away.

  It took a moment for her to recognize the import of his words. He planned to follow her tonight when she left.

  Not if she had anything to say about it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings.

  - Jane Austen

  Now that he’d found her, he didn’t plan to lose her.

  “That was an entertaining moment,” Lady Elizabeth said from right next to him.

  Robert spun to face her and quickly reviewed every word he’d just spoken. He’d said nothing that would have given him away, he was certain of it, but even so, Elizabeth’s eyes danced with suppressed laughter.