He tapped the end of his cane against one of the paving stones, hitting it harder and harder as he jabbed at its center, imagining piercing the target of a practice dummy with his fencing foil— a dummy that wore the face of that insufferable landlady. As he tried to decide whether he should leave or begin searching for another way inside, the front door finally burst open.
Antonia hurried out, scolding someone still inside while simultaneously tying her bonnet’s pink ribbons under her chin. Her dark cloak hid most of her ivory dress, but he noticed the small pink flowers dotting the fabric that peeked out from beneath it. He also noticed the gardenia she’d pinned to her cloak.
His gardenia.
“You have the proof in your hand, Mrs. Hill,” Antonia said. “Your insistence upon believing the worst about me is simply insupportable.” She turned to face Robert and let out a huff of indignation. Without a backward glance at Mrs. Hill, she yanked the door closed and then tucked her hand in the crook of Robert’s arm.
As he smiled down at her, he realized all his irritation had evaporated at seeing her. She looked lovely.
“Do you mind if we take a walk?” she asked without preamble. “Since I have no one to serve as chaperone, we can either stop at the tea room or stroll through the park. Those are both public places. I need a break from that house and that woman. If I stay any longer I’ll end up saying something I’ll regret.”
Antonia didn’t wait for his reply, but headed in the same direction young Nathan and his entourage had taken, and at only a slightly slower pace.
Hurrying along beside her, Robert remained silent as long as he was able, but finally his curiosity regarding her living situation won out. “Why do you remain there?”
“What, you thought I’d leave during the night? You’d only track me down again. As long as I’m performing in Anne Blake, I can’t hide from you. And since I can’t stop working if I want to keep eating, there’s no sense in trying to avoid you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said uncomfortably. “I was referring to your living situation and your landlady.”
“Oh, that.” Antonia shook her head, but slowed her steps to a more normal pace. “It’s complicated. Suffice it to say she serves a purpose. One which I require. I’m fortunate she lets me live there at all. She’s only doing it as a favor to— to a mutual friend.” Antonia shook her head. “I must constantly remind myself of that so I don’t lose my temper with her.”
“I see she gave you my flowers,” he said, awkwardly using his cane to indicate the gardenia. “I thought she might not.”
Antonia touched the pale white blossom pinned to her cloak. “It’s beautiful. How did you know gardenias were my favorite?”
Her favorite? His heart sank. Just his luck. She hadn’t guessed he’d included it for its secret meaning. “I had no idea. It’s just that they’re so lovely, I thought they suited you.”
Antonia’s cheeks pinkened and she smiled up at him shyly. “You constantly surprise me, Lord Wentworth.”
It worked. She did know its secret meaning— and it pleased her. He had to suppress his grin. “Call me Robert. Remember?”
She ducked her head. “Robert.”
He needed to press her. Now. He glanced around, searching for potential eavesdroppers, but spied no one close enough to overhear. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but I need you to help me recover that church register. It’s of vital importance.”
Antonia stiffened and glanced up at him. The warmth disappeared from her eyes, and something tightened around Robert’s heart. “I told you, I no longer have it. Why can’t you people just leave me alone?”
That took him aback. “‘You people’?” he repeated back to her. “What are you talking about?”
“You government people. Who do you work for anyway? The Russians? The French?”
“Queen Victoria,” Robert said stiffly.
Antonia’s mouth fell open and she raised her hand as though warding him off. “The Queen? The British government is involved too?”
Robert’s stomach tightened. She had to be acting. Her surprise couldn’t be genuine, could it? “This is England. Your theft took place on British soil, didn’t it? Of course we’re involved.”
Antonia lifted her chin. “Technically, the embassy is on Russian soil.”
“It still took place here in England,” he said, rapping the tip of his cane on the sidewalk to emphasize his point, “right under the nose of your queen. Your actions last night could land you in prison for treason.”
“Treason!” Antonia came to a halt and faced him, letting go of his arm. Her surprise was so complete that Robert couldn’t believe she was pretending.
“What did you expect?” he asked, gripping the handle of his cane in frustration. He didn’t know which he wanted to do more— throttle her or kiss her. “You’ve read the newspapers. We’re on the brink of war with Russia. The Ottoman Empire is begging us for help. If we can’t manage to negotiate a peace in the Crimean Peninsula, the only course left to us will be to declare war.”
Antonia took a step back. “What are you talking about? It’s only a church register! It lists births, deaths, and marriages. How can it start a war?”
Robert knew he needed to tread carefully. “Don’t pretend you aren’t aware of the book’s importance. Why else would you have stolen it?”
“I need it.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “My entire future depends on what’s recorded in those pages.”
Robert’s patience snapped. “Don’t be melodramatic about your self-interest,” he retorted. “We’re talking war. Men’s lives depend on that book.”
Antonia’s eyes seemed to blaze at him. She took a step closer, clenching her fists at her sides. “You’re only accusing me of being melodramatic because I’m an actress. You’re the one being melodramatic. I refuse to believe a church register will bring about a war. Why is it so important?”
“I’m not at liberty to tell you.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line. He hated trying to bluff when he didn’t know what cards he held in his hand. It left him at a distinct disadvantage.
Antonia became alert. She narrowed her eyes as she scrutinized him. “You’re lying. I can tell. You don’t know why the register is important, do you?” She smirked at him. “And you accuse me of being melodramatic. At least I know what I’m talking about. I’m not the one flinging wild accusations.”
Robert stiffened his spine as he fixed his gaze on her. All thoughts of seducing her disappeared under her reproachful gaze. He took her arm and tucked it through his arm in a perfunctory manner and then began to walk down the street again. “I might not know the details of the book’s contents, but I’m confident it’s vital to our current peace negotiations. You may have pushed us into war, Miss Winter. And war means death. Try to remember that when you’re spending the illicit money you just earned.”
Antonia stopped and stared at him, but she didn’t pull away this time. “You’re telling me the truth? The church register really could start a war?”
“Yes.”
She tightened her grip on his arm. “I had no idea. I knew the Russians were desperate to recover it, but war? If I’d known, I never would have passed it on to— to my friend. I’m no traitor to England.”
Robert scrutinized her. “I notice you didn’t say you wouldn’t have stolen it.”
Antonia closed her eyes. “I had no choice. I’ve stolen that church register twice now, and I’ll do it again if necessary. You can’t understand how vital it is to me. To my future.”
Something about her plea gave him pause. Why would she risk everything, even prison, for the book? What drove her? Why was she so blasted determined to have it?
He tilted his head closer to her, speaking softly in her ear. “In that case, you need to help me understand. Tell me why that little book is so important to you. Please, Antonia. Tell me everything.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze.
He touched her chin w
ith his finger, urging her to look up at him.
She refused.
Robert sighed. “I don’t want to be forced to turn you over to the authorities. But you aren’t leaving me with an alternative.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Those things that nature denied to human sight, she revealed to the eyes of the soul.
- Ovid
Antonia stopped breathing. He’d turn her in? A gust of frigid wind sent a chill down her spine. She couldn’t go to prison! What would her sisters do without her support? Good lord— what if her sisters were arrested as well?
A lump of dread settled in her stomach. This meeting was not going well. Not at all.
She never should have trusted him. She should have disappeared into the cold night, leaving no trace. He’d never have found her.
She suddenly realized that wasn’t true. If she managed to regain her place in society, it wouldn’t be long before Robert tracked her down. Her fall might not have caught his attention, but once she scrabbled her way back up society’s ladder, he’d notice, especially since her plan would create a scandal of its own.
She needed to tell him the truth. That much was obvious. Her story was so bizarre— could she convince him to believe it? It was the truth, yes, but would he think she was lying? She’d have to unwind her tale with great care if she wanted to avoid being thrown into prison.
The thought of failing sent a wave of nausea through her.
She swallowed.
She had to convince him. She had to.
She glanced at him. What would he think of her once she’d revealed everything to him? Once she’d bared all of her secrets? Would he react to her confession with scorn or pity? She’d experienced both responses too many times to count, but she still wasn’t sure if one was worse than the other. Each offered its own unique sort of pain.
Even worse, she dreaded the way he’d withdraw from her. Just like everyone else. He might have been willing to overlook her status as an actress— but this? No. Even he wasn’t so noble.
But it didn’t matter. She needed his cooperation, not his good opinion or his approval. She didn’t care what he thought. She didn’t care what any of them thought.
Not really.
She’d have to expose her family’s most closely guarded secrets. She knew that with this man, only the truth would suffice.
Antonia glanced warily at the entrance to the tea room as they approached. The scent of the shop’s signature clove biscuits wafted toward her on the winter air. Although she dearly loved those biscuits, today her stomach clenched at the smell. She couldn’t bear the thought of food.
When Robert paused at the door, she tugged gently on his arm and tilted her head toward the entrance to the park. “I have some things I need to explain. Privacy is essential. I don’t want some bored eavesdropper to spread my secrets throughout the neighborhood.”
Robert seemed relieved as he fell in step beside her. With a pang of nostalgia, Antonia enjoyed the pleasant, everyday experience of walking arm in arm with a gentleman. She hadn’t realized how much she missed this simple act. Her last such stroll had been a year ago.
A lifetime ago.
She was a different woman now.
They entered the park, a study of brown and white in the winter. The path was clear and dry. It wended its way around the outer edge of an open area covered in snow and continued between a few sparse trees in a large, meandering loop. The group of mothers from the neighborhood watched her and Robert. They’d become fodder for gossip simply by taking a circumspect walk.
She liked strolling with him— liked his choice of flowers for her bouquet. Especially the gardenias and their hidden message. Knowing he found her attractive sent a secret thrill through her.
Robert had featured as the central figure in her girlish fantasies ever since she’d seen him those many years ago. She’d imagined him noticing her one day when visiting her father and then immediately falling in love with her. In the past year, her foolish dreams had been dashed when confronted with the reality of her new circumstances. Even so, she found it difficult recasting Robert from the role of her hero to that of her adversary.
Antonia lifted her chin toward the nearest group of curious onlookers. “We have an audience.”
“I noticed,” he said, his gaze sliding over them. “I suppose their presence will ensure we don’t shout at one another.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You might shout? You don’t strike me as the type.”
Robert’s mouth curled up at the corners in a most engaging way and he gave his cane a twirl. “Don’t I? My brother would disagree with you, but rest assured, I promise not to shout.”
“Brothers,” she said, watching his dexterous fingers spin the cane. “What can I say? It’s the same with me and my sisters. We fly into fits of passion and say things to one another we’d never dream of saying to anyone else. Pointing out one another’s failings is both the curse and the blessing of siblings. After all, who else loves you enough to tell you when you’re behaving like a fool, if not a family member? I gave you every reason to scorn me last night, but you behaved as a complete gentleman.”
“Not as a sibling?” The intensity of his gaze made her body pulse with heat, and her step faltered. “My feelings toward you are far from brotherly.” He glanced away. The cane abruptly stopped spinning as he clenched it in his hand and lowered the tip to the ground. Their pace slowed, and he began to beat out a steady rhythm to accompany their walk.
Antonia’s mouth suddenly felt dry as she felt her cheeks warm. She gnawed at her bottom lip as she watched a group of boys on the path ahead of them rolling hoops. “I need to thank you for your help. I never meant to create an international incident. Things have become so complicated.”
“Explain everything to me. Help me understand.” His tone was patient and soothing.
“I don’t know where to begin.”
“At the beginning.”
Antonia sighed, breathing out a puff of white warmth into the frigid air. “It started a long time ago. With my parents. You see, my father was Squire Paul Winter of Maidenhead. Have you heard of him?”
“I know him.”
She waited for him to continue, but he said nothing more.
“Perhaps you heard my parents died in a train accident a little over a year ago. Their deaths left me and my two younger sisters alone in the world.”
His eyes flew to hers, full of compassion. “No. I hadn’t heard. You have my heartfelt sympathy. To lose them both at once must have been a terrible blow. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Tears pricked at her eyes, but she ignored them, only giving him a brief nod of acknowledgment. “In the days following the accident, we mourned them and dealt with their funerals, not knowing what would happen or what would become of us. But then my uncle, Walter Winter, appeared. Back from the dead, or so it seemed.”
They approached one of the clusters of ladies along the path, and Antonia paused in her storytelling until the group was well out of earshot. The boys rolling their hoops pulled farther ahead along the path and ran alongside the rolling circles, laughing and shouting to one another.
Antonia glanced up at Robert. “At first we were overjoyed to discover we still had a living relative. Uncle Walter was my father’s older brother, and everyone had believed him dead. He’d disappeared at a time when my grandparents were very angry with him. From what I could learn, he compromised a young woman of good family who lived nearby, and Grandfather insisted he marry her. Walter refused. He ran off, and the girl ended up dying. Some say she killed herself, others say she died of shame and a broken heart. No one heard from Uncle Walter again until he appeared after my parents died.” Antonia paused for a moment, shaking her head. “It’s a sordid tale. I hate dredging up my family secrets this way, but I don’t know any other way to tell the story.”
“I sympathize. I have family secrets as well, and the idea of revealing them to someone...” He grimaced as he shook his head
. “I won’t judge you based on a family member’s actions. Perhaps you’ll do me the same courtesy one day.” Robert’s sympathetic smile tugged at her, and she couldn’t resist smiling back at him. Something warm fluttered in her stomach. This man’s pale-blue eyes called to her like a clear winter sky. She could fall into them and soar away.
“Of course.” She noted the breathless quality to her voice and the realization snapped her back to reality. She needed to stop staring dreamily into Robert’s eyes like an infatuated schoolgirl and keep her head straight. She didn’t want to end up in prison for treason.
Antonia swallowed. What had she been talking about? Ah, yes. “Uncle Walter claimed that because he was the eldest son, the land portion of Grandfather’s inheritance had rightfully been his all along.”
Robert’s brow furrowed. “I’m not certain that’s true. Did you speak with a solicitor?”
“Of course. But Uncle Walter wasn’t specifically disinherited by my grandfather. He was simply presumed dead so that his share went to my father. He should have rightfully inherited our house and half of the remaining holdings.”
“It must have been a blow to lose your home to someone you didn’t even know was alive. But surely your father left you something more in his will.”
Antonia’s chest tightened. “It’s more complicated.” She forced herself to take a shaky breath. “When my parents first met, he was married to another woman. He’d met his first wife when he was young and reckless, and no one in Maidenhead knew anything about her. She was only interested in his income and the excitement they shared in the gambling halls, so when his father died and he decided to leave that sordid life behind, she became angry. She refused to live with him in Maidenhead and insisted upon remaining in the city. When it became obvious they’d never be happy together, Father offered her an allowance in exchange for leaving him alone, and she readily accepted. She said she loved gambling and the excitement of London. She’d never be content as the wife of a simple country squire.”
Once Upon a Spy: A Secrets and Seduction Book Page 13
