Once Upon a Spy: A Secrets and Seduction Book

by Sheridan Jeane

  As she carried it back into the dressing room, she shut the door behind her and then laid the cane on her dressing table. She quickly began removing her costume.

  “What happened?” Zelda asked.

  “Those men— they had knives. I don’t know what I would have done if not for—” She shook her head. What of Robert? She’d hated leaving him to face her attackers. Would he be safe? She touched her lips, thankful she’d finally kissed him.

  Good lord. She became as still as a statue. Why had that thought crept into her mind? What was wrong with her? Did she believe she was going to lose him? Maybe she should help him. She glanced at the door.

  “If not for what?” Zelda said. “What happened?”

  “Claude and my friend chased them away.”

  “What if they come back?”

  Antonia shivered. “I need to get out of here.”

  She let her gown and panniers fall to the floor and stepped out of the puddle of fabric. She stooped to pick it up, but Zelda stopped her.

  “Don’t worry about your costume. I’ll put it away.”

  “Thank you.” Antonia grabbed her corset from the peg and flipped it around her waist. She began fastening the front row of hooks with practiced speed. With Zelda’s help, it didn’t take her long to dress.

  She hesitated, taking hold of Zelda’s hand. “I wish I could explain it all to you.”

  “There will be time for that later. For now, you should hurry.”

  Antonia nodded and then snatched her cloak from the coat rack and flung it over her shoulders. She turned back to her dressing table and grabbed the shaft of Robert’s cane, tucking it under her arm.

  She stepped toward the door just as Robert and Claude burst through it, startling her into stumbling backward. Relief swept through her. He was safe.

  Robert grabbed her upper arms and steadied her. The pressure of his hands was reassuring. They were so large they should have felt heavy, but instead they soothed her. He felt good— solid and reassuring.

  Standing this close to Robert, she caught another whiff of his starched shirt and his spicy, woody scent of bay rum. The man even smelled reassuring. She wanted nothing more than to step into his arms and have him hold her close. She wanted to float away in the blueness of his eyes.

  But that could only happen in a dream. He was a lofty earl, and she was nothing but a nameless bastard. If she wanted any sort of future with him she’d have to face the reality of her situation. She could steal kisses from him in the dark, underneath the stage, hidden from public scrutiny, but he could never be hers. Not really. Anything they might share together would be overshadowed by the situation of her birth.

  Suddenly, gazing up at him was more than she could bear. She stepped back, breaking free of his embrace.

  As she tried to look anywhere other than at Robert, she was startled to find Claude glaring at her.

  “Explain yourself,” Claude demanded. “Why were those men here?”

  She paled. “I— I’m sorry. They said they wanted to talk to me, but they threatened me with knives, so I ran.”

  His eyes narrowed. “They wanted you? No one else?” He glanced at Robert. “Are you sure they weren’t after him?” He said the word with a sneer.

  “They said they wanted to ask me some questions,” she said, shaking her head. “Lord Wentworth was swept up in their attack on me. They weren’t after him.”

  “Are you telling me they would have attacked anyone who happened to be with you?”

  She nodded. “I—”

  “You’ve brought trouble to my theater. I will not have it.” Claude’s face contorted with anger. “The livelihood of everyone here depends on our ability to deliver a performance every night. You have put that at risk.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” His face shifted slightly as his anger dimmed, softening his expression. “You’ve left me no choice. I’m replacing you.”

  Antonia stared at him, stunned by his words, and then she reached for his arm. “You can’t. I need this job.”

  “I can.” He shrugged away from of her hold. “Everyone else here needs a job, too, and you’re endangering that. Your understudy will be happy to take over.”

  He turned on his heel and left the room.

  She felt Robert’s warm hand clasp her upper arm and lifted her face to look at him. “What will I do?” she whispered.

  “The same as you’ve always done,” he replied, his tone gentle. “Persevere and find a solution.”

  She closed her eyes, trying to ease the tightness in her chest. How would she pay Mrs. Hill? How would she support her sisters? How would she eat?

  She couldn’t answer those questions. Not right now. But Robert was right. She would persevere. What was done was done, and there was no use in fretting about it. She needed to formulate a new plan, and she needed to do it quickly.

  She glanced around the dressing room, but only Zelda seemed to have noticed the scene with Claude. Antonia couldn’t meet her friend’s sympathetic gaze as she bid her a hasty goodbye. She fled into the corridor and Robert followed her, closing the door behind them.

  She peered up at him. “Tell me what happened. Did they escape?” She cleared her mind and focused on the problem at hand. The men. The chase. She took a small step back so she could look at him, but she couldn’t force herself to release his wrist. She’d prefer to throw her arms around him, but this small contact— this small indiscretion— it would have to suffice. She needed to touch him, needed to know he was safe. “You’re not injured, are you?”

  He shook his head. “I never even caught up to them. They escaped before I could stop them.”

  “Perhaps that was for the best. What would you have done if you’d caught them?”

  Robert smiled wryly. “I suppose I looked like my neighbor’s dog when he goes tearing off after every passing carriage. I often wonder what he plans to do if he ever manages to catch one.”

  Antonia imagined Robert dropping to his hands and knees and sinking his teeth into the leg of one of their attackers, and she smiled.

  “I hate to think what might have happened if I hadn’t been here tonight,” Robert said.

  She nodded stiffly. Her hand began to ache from her deathlike grip on Robert’s cane. She forced her fingers to uncurl. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “You should put your sword away.”

  She made the mistake of looking into those pale-blue eyes before releasing the cane, and she ended up holding onto it for a heartbeat too long, staring into them. His gaze transfixed her. How had she ever thought of his eyes as being icy? They were pale, yes, but they held none of the coldness of ice. As she gazed into them, they warmed her to the tips of her toes.

  Antonia swallowed and glanced away, trying to think of something she might say to fill the silence stretching between them. “I can’t thank you enough for being here tonight. I was surprised to find you backstage.”

  Metal rang against metal as he slid his sword back into its sheath. “I was worried I was right and the man I’d seen really was from the embassy. I’d rather have been wrong.”

  “I should have believed you.”

  He placed his hand at the small of her back as he escorted her toward the stairs leading to the main floor of the theater. “I came tonight to escort you safely back to your rooms.”

  “Rooms?” Antonia almost snorted, his choice of words momentarily distracting her from the way his hand, low on her waist, seemed to burn through her clothes and scorch her flesh. “You wouldn’t call the pitiful six-foot by eight-foot space where I sleep ‘rooms’ if you saw it.” She missed his hand the moment he dropped it from her back as she mounted the stairs.

  The idea that another person would worry about her enough to watch over her overwhelmed her. She could hardly believe it, but Robert’s presence was proof of his words. He valued her.

  As they reached the top of the stairs, she glanced at him. It was dim here, but she could still make out his fe
atures. His strength and confidence reassured her. It would be so easy to let him into her life.

  He held out his arm, and she automatically slid her gloved fingers under his elbow to rest against his forearm. Taking a gentleman’s arm was feeling more natural again.

  The jaded part of herself pointed out he might only be protecting her because he wanted the church register.

  She didn’t want to think that way. Not tonight. She gripped his arm a bit tighter as she pushed the thought aside. For now, she wanted to allow herself to believe that he wanted her purely for herself. It was nice to have a protector, and Robert made her feel safe. Perhaps she could relax her defenses around him.

  Just for tonight.

  There’d be plenty of time to keep him at a distance tomorrow.

  “My carriage awaits,” he said with a sweeping gesture toward the stage door.

  “Riding in your carriage would be infinitely preferable to hiring a hansom cab. But can you forgo interrogating me tonight? I’m exhausted.”

  Robert chuckled, and she could feel the low rumble against the back of her hand where he held it tucked to his side. “I think I can refrain. As long as it’s only for tonight.”

  Only for tonight. The words echoed between them.

  Antonia stepped through the stage door into the narrow, icy alley, finding Robert’s sumptuous carriage waiting for them. He reached out to pull open the door. “Your chariot, my lady.”

  How perfect. It was too bad she couldn’t afford to have a carriage waiting for her every night. She ducked into its safety and settled into a dark corner.

  Robert took the seat across from her. Small lanterns were affixed above each of the two doors of the carriage, and she could see him quite clearly in their low light.

  She sighed and leaned back against the comfortable cushions. It had been a year since she’d enjoyed this kind of luxury. Father had been fairly well off, and he’d always kept a fine carriage. She hadn’t realized how coddled her life had been until she’d had it ripped away. Robert’s carriage even smelled pleasant— of lemon and sage. The coachman obviously worked diligently to maintain the interior as well as the exterior.

  Antonia closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She felt safe with Robert. The carriage rocked gently on its springs in a soothing motion, and her tension ebbed. His caution allowed her to lower her guard for the moment. She hadn’t realized how hypervigilant she’d been until she finally relaxed.

  She let herself drift into a memory of the way things used to be. The way they should be still. Her life had been perfect, and she’d never even recognized it as such until it had been stolen from her. They’d all lived in modest luxury in their childhood home.

  At the touch of a hand on her shoulders, Antonia’s eyes flew open. Momentarily disoriented, she could barely make out the interior of the carriage. Robert must have dimmed the interior lanterns. A moment later, she realized the horses had come to a halt. “Did I fall asleep?”

  “Rather abruptly,” Robert murmured. He was close. Closer than she’d realized. “We’re home now.”

  The carriage door opened, and the coachman stepped away from the doorway. He offered his hand as she negotiated the narrow treads of the unfamiliar conveyance. He released her as soon as her feet hit the pavement. Robert was next to her— how had he exited the carriage so quickly? She slipped her hand around his proffered arm.

  She was exhausted. The day had been draining. He began guiding her forward. She looked up blearily, but when she focused on the building before her, she stopped short. “Where are we?” she asked, unable to conceal her shock upon seeing the building’s cream-colored limestone facade. This was not Mrs. Hill’s townhouse.

  “I brought you home. My home.”

  The chill running through her had nothing to do with the frigid winter breeze tugging at her cloak. “I don’t understand.” She pulled away from him. “Why am I here?” Please, please, don’t let him believe he could ignore propriety with her. She couldn’t bear it if he treated her cheaply. Not tonight. Not from him.

  His brows drew together and he met her gaze, his expression solemn and sincere, drawing her in.

  She looked deeply into his eyes, the mirrors of his soul, trying to read the intent of this man who had come to her rescue so many times. Try as she might, she detected no glimmer of deceit in him. She breathed deeply to release some of her tension.

  “You know you can’t go home,” he said softly. “They know where you live. You have no place else to go.” He lifted his hand and brushed back the strand of hair that had swept across her face, tucking it behind her ear. “You’ll be safe here. I promise you. Even from me, if that’s what you want.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.

  - Jane Austen

  “Why bring me here?” Antonia searched his eyes for any telltale emotions. Despite his apparent sincerity, she couldn’t rid herself of the nagging fear that her status as an actress had played a role in his decision. She’d been spurned too many times in the past year, and she’d come to expect it.

  Perhaps sensing her tension, he stepped back. “This is my home. Woolsy House. I promise, you’ll be perfectly safe. I could think of nowhere else to take you.”

  “There’s my home, of course, or an inn.” Antonia watched him suspiciously. A frigid gust caught her cloak and winter’s cold fingers slid up her skirts, chilling her. She felt the absence of him next to her more deeply than she would have expected. Did this have anything to do with those theoretical gravitational forces Father used to talk about? Could it be that those forces applied to people as well as planets? Because it seemed that as Robert stepped away from her, she missed his presence— more than she should have.

  With him standing at a distance, the dark night seemed to press in on her. The world she lived in was harsh and lonely, and few people bolstered her confidence the way Robert did. That wasn’t something to ignore. She believed in herself when she was with him. Was this false confidence? Or was it something she could trust? Was Robert someone she could trust?

  “I can’t take you back to Mrs. Hill’s. Those men already know where you live. Please, Antonia. It’s not as though I can abandon you at an inn with nothing but the clothes you’re wearing. Certainly not at this hour. It isn’t safe, especially with Revnik’s men searching for you.”

  “What about my governess, Miss Galloway? I could stay with her at Miss Hermitage’s Collegiate School for a few days.”

  “It’s the middle of the night. If we went there now we’d risk waking everyone, and that might cost your friend her position.”

  Antonia’s chest tightened and she forced out a sigh. “Sneaking in isn’t an option either. There’s a wall surrounding the entire school.”

  “Which leaves us only one logical solution.”

  “This?” she said, gesturing toward his front door. “It simply won’t do. It isn’t proper. I already combat too many assumptions people have regarding actresses. I don’t want to give them further reason to question my morals.”

  “Can you suggest another option?”

  She glanced down, fixing her gaze on the worn, damp hem of her cloak. There were no other options. At least, none better than this one. “I can’t, and I find that immensely frustrating.” She squared her shoulders and raised her chin, looking him in the eyes. “You’re right, of course. Your offer is more than generous.” She paused and took a deep breath. “At the risk of offending you, I must ask— what will we do if someone discovers I’m here? If people know I’m staying in your home without a chaperone, what’s left of my reputation would be ruined.”

  He moved a step closer to her, and she found herself drawn toward him again. “I’ve given that consideration,” he said in soothing tones. “My brother and sister live here as well, so I’ll have Emily’s lady’s maid stand in as your chaperone until we find someone else.”

  Antonia’s mouth went dry. “Your brother? Frederick? He wa
nts me arrested for treason!”

  Robert reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “He won’t do anything to harm you. I promise.”

  When she let out a frustrated sigh, the tiny cloud her warm breath created hovered between them for an instant before it dissipated. “I wish I could think of a better alternative, but I can’t. I’ll stay here, but only until I can find more suitable accommodations.” She slid her gloved fingers over his hand where it rested on her arm. “And thank you,” she said, meeting his gaze.

  He nodded and then tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and led her toward his home.

  As she approached the gleaming white door, she eyed it with trepidation, but when Robert pushed it open, she didn’t falter as they passed through it together.

  She tried to conceal how much the grand foyer intimidated her. “Why is it called Woolsy House and not Wentworth House?”

  “Woolsy is my family name. Wentworth is my title.”

  The round foyer was enormous, and its grand marble staircase rose up before her, seeming to beckon her to the balcony above.

  A small, dapper man wearing a black suit entered from a door to the right. He must be the butler, looking crisp and neat even at this indecent hour of the morning.”

  “Landon. Is Frederick home?” Robert asked.

  “No, m’lord. He’s out for the evening and said he’d return home quite late.”

  Robert glanced at her and then back to Landon. “This is Miss Winter. She had a harrowing experience this evening, and as a consequence, she’ll be obliged to stay here for a few days. Can you prepare a room for her?”

  “The blue room is ready to accommodate a guest,” Landon replied. “Does that meet with your approval?”

  Robert gave a nod. “In the morning, please inform Tuttle I require her to stand in as Miss Winter’s chaperone until I can find someone else. You can retire for the evening.”

  “Yes, m’lord.”

  Robert faced her, the warm lamplight making his eyes difficult to read. “I plan to have a whiskey before I turn in for the night. Can I offer you something as well?”