Once Upon a Spy: A Secrets and Seduction Book

by Sheridan Jeane

  The door banged open, and the boy Robert had seen lurking behind the shrubbery burst through. He was wide-eyed with fear, but when he caught sight of Robert and Catherine, he skidded to a stop.

  “What’s this?” Robert asked, rising to his feet.

  Tears streamed down the boy’s cheeks, and he panted in short, fast breaths. He seemed to suddenly take in his surroundings. He drew himself up straight and wiped away his tears with a sleeve, leaving a streak of clean skin behind. It only served to make him look more grubby and forlorn.

  The tears seemed out of character. Not that Robert knew the boy, but there were certain characteristics he’d come to associate with children who looked as this one did— children who lived on the streets and survived by their wits. Without fail, they all had a brittle hardness about them. A weary resignation that suggested they’d seen too much of this world in their short years, and none of it good. Despite this boy’s unkempt appearance and long, tangled hair, he had a peculiar air of fragility about him. Perhaps he was new to the streets. That might explain it.

  “Come here, boy,” Catherine said. “I expect you to be on your best behavior while you are in my house. Your yelling interrupted our meal.”

  The boy moved to stand in front of her. “Begging your pardon, m’lady.” The look he gave her was full of hope. “Might you be Lady Huntley?”

  “I am.”

  “I’m sorry for my rudeness.” The boy glanced over his shoulder at Mrs. Henworth. “That one said she wanted to scrub me down right there in the kitchen. She was having people bring in water. I won’t do that. It’d be indecent!” He poked his chin out mulishly.

  “I can certainly see why you would feel that way. I can promise you that no one will force you to bathe if it isn’t your wish, but why wouldn’t you want to be clean? Wouldn’t you like to have a nice, hot bath and wash away some of that grime? You look as though you’re covered in coal dust.”

  The boy grimaced and glanced down at his clothes. “I slept in a coal bin two nights ago. I had no idea I’d get so filthy.”

  “Then we’re in agreement. I’ll have Mrs. Henworth set up a bath tub in one of the bedrooms and she can scrub—”

  “No!” The boy backed away, his eyes wide with fear. “I don’t want her to see me like that. She can’t come in. I can do it myself.”

  Catherine seemed taken aback by the boy’s vehemence. Then an expression crossed her face that Robert couldn’t identify. She narrowed her eyes and peered at the boy more closely. “You already knew my name when you came into this room. I think it’s time you told me who you are and why you’re here.”

  The boy shot Robert a wary glance, and then focused his attention on Catherine. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. When he finally spoke, his words were barely audible. “I want to learn to fence.”

  “Oh, my,” Catherine said, and her face blanched. She glanced at Mrs. Henworth. “Can you please find the— the boy something clean to wear? A bath can wait until he—”

  “What’s your name?” Robert demanded. Something strange was going on here.

  The boy crimsoned. “I— I’m nobody, my lord.”

  “Surely you’re somebody. You’re hardly a figment of my imagination. Out with it. What’s your name?”

  “My name’s Tidmore, Lord Huntley. Imogen Tidmore.”

  Imogen? He was— a she? Robert glanced at Catherine to see if she was as startled by the girl’s revelation as he was. Her perfectly still expression told him everything he needed to know. Catherine wasn’t at all surprised. In fact, she looked quite nervous.

  “I— I’ve come to ask you to teach me to fence. Father approves, but Mother— well, Mother says it’s unseemly. She says she doesn’t care if a marchioness does it. Only the Queen herself could convince her that it’s proper. Father says if a marquess can let his wife fence, then surely a judge can permit his daughter to do so.” She beamed at Robert.

  He suddenly realized that Imogen must think he was Lord Huntley. “We seemed to have skipped the necessary introductions earlier,” Robert said. “I’m the Earl of Wentworth, a friend of Lord and Lady Huntley’s.”

  The boy— girl looked dumbstruck. She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Then where’s Lord Huntley?” she asked.

  “I’m right here,” Daniel said as he entered the room. “And can someone tell me what’s happening?”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Robert said. He tossed the napkin he’d been holding down on the table and strode across the room to confront his friend.

  Daniel scowled at him. “Are you the cause of all this commotion?”

  “No. But I’m about to add to it.” He stepped in a bit closer, crowding Daniel. “It would seem that I have finally discovered what happened to that scamp, Alexander Gray. After he disappeared a year ago, I worried he’d met with some terrible end. Imagine my surprise to discover he’s your wife.”

  Daniel’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he took a step back.

  Robert glanced at Catherine, taking in her deep blush of embarrassment. “I’m not bothered that you’re Gray. I’m offended that the two of you kept the secret from me.”

  She looked positively shocked. Twice in one day. “I— I—”

  “You’re Gray?” Elizabeth said, pushing away from the table and lurching to her feet. “Catherine! That’s marvelous!”

  As he took in Catherine’s embarrassment and Elizabeth’s excitement, Robert shook his head in bemusement and started chuckling. Quietly at first. Then louder. Then he let out a full-throated laugh, letting it fill him. Once he started, he found he couldn’t make himself stop. In fact, he didn’t want to make himself stop. He laughed so hard tears started streaming down his cheeks.

  “It appears that I came to the right person to ask for help,” he finally managed to say. “Once again, the mysterious Alexander Gray saves the day.”

  “Pull yourself together, Wentworth,” Daniel said, placing an arm around his shoulders and guiding him back to his chair at the breakfast table. “You’re laughing at my wife’s expense.” He settled into the seat next to Robert.

  “I do apologize. I’m not laughing at her, but at myself. I should have seen it sooner.”

  Elizabeth leaned forward her chair. “You’re Alexander Gray?” she asked again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It seemed safest,” Catherine mumbled. “The fewer people who knew—”

  “Apparently your secret isn’t very well-guarded if young Imogen knows about it,” Robert commented.

  All eyes turned toward the girl standing alone.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Huntley,” Imogen said. “I didn’t mean to give you away.” Her pained expression convinced Robert she was telling the truth.

  “How did you find out?” Daniel asked. “Not many people know.”

  “I overheard my parents talking about it. Father wanted Mother to bring me here to meet Lady Huntley and perhaps take lessons, but Mother refused.”

  “Your name is Tidmore?” Robert knew that name. “Is your father Absolom Tidmore? Lord Tidmore? The judge?”

  Imogen’s face fell. “Do you know him, sir?”

  “Not well. Mostly by reputation.” Robert peered more closely at Imogen, noting the family resemblance. It was in her eyes and the shape of her jaw. “He was one of the head boys at Eton when I first arrived.” Robert had done his best to stay out of young Absolom’s sight. But even though he’d been stern and demanding, he’d also been fair.

  Daniel leaned in. “Tidmore the Tyrant? He’s your father? I remember him. Absolom had the uncanny ability to sniff out the culprit of every minor misdeed. On days when I’d misbehaved, I kept my distance.”

  “It would appear he’s still good at ferreting out secrets. After all, he discovered yours,” Robert said. “He’s a judge now. I can’t think of a man better suited for the role.” Nor could he think of a man better positioned to help Antonia.

  “Perhaps.” Daniel raked his fingers through
his hair.

  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Tidmore,” Robert said. “Today has been a fortuitous day. Most fortuitous indeed.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home.

  - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  Robert returned home as the large clock in the foyer chimed eleven o’clock. He closed the large double doors leading to the street and was pleasantly surprised by the agreeable scent pervading the room. There, on the round table in the center of the foyer, sat an artful arrangement of flowers next to a letter addressed to him. He picked up the letter and opened it as he examined them.

  The blooms must have come from his own greenhouse. Mother had frequently made similar elaborate arrangements, but that simple expression of everyday beauty had vanished from his life since her death. None of the servants had proven adept at the skill, and he hadn’t placed enough importance on the task to bother filling the void. But now he wondered why he hadn’t taken the time.

  He scanned the brief letter and then tucked it into his breast pocket before turning his attention back to the centerpiece.

  Fortunately, the fragrant blossoms overpowered the faintly unpleasant odor of the London streets that had swirled inside with him. His neighbor had chosen today to have workers dig out his privy, and because of that, it was not a good day to venture outdoors. Once the workmen spread lime, the odor would diminish. At least his neighbor was having the job done in the winter rather than in the heat of summer, thereby minimizing the noxious fumes.

  Robert stepped closer to examine the arrangement. It could only be Antonia’s handiwork. No one else had attempted to create anything this elaborate in years. She must have found Mother’s flower-arranging supplies. He could detect bits of floral wire holding certain blooms in place.

  As he peered at the creation, he was surprised to note that some of the items she’d used weren’t flowers at all. She’d used dried seedpods and some unusual twigs. He didn’t recall his mother ever using twigs in her arrangements. It was strange to see such common objects mixed with the extravagant flowers, but he liked the effect.

  Robert took a step back to admire it. Antonia seemed quite adept at this particular skill. Apparently she was a woman of many hidden talents. Flower arranging, acting, knife fighting, thieving, kissing…

  He dragged his index finger along his lower lip. Last night, when she’d stared at him in that seductive way, he’d been unable to back away from the challenge. Ever since meeting her at the embassy, he’d wanted her to gaze at him with exactly that expression in her eyes. That passion. Even though he’d known she was toying with him when she’d gazed at him that way— that she’d merely been trying to prove a point— he’d lost all control.

  Now he breathed in deeply as he recalled the softness of her lips. At first they’d been slightly chilled from the ice in her whiskey, but they’d warmed quickly enough once he'd kissed her.

  He wanted her. Of that he was certain.

  With that thought in the forefront of his mind, he wasn’t at all surprised to see Antonia breeze into the foyer. He could almost believe he’d summoned her to him with his thoughts, if not for the fact that she didn’t seem to notice him.

  She carried a small, round vase of pink rosebuds and she headed toward the main staircase with it cradled in her hands.

  She looked deliciously tempting.

  “I see you’ve been hard at work.”

  The vase bobbled in her hands, but Antonia managed to keep it from falling. “I didn’t see you there.” Her cheeks flushed, as though they’d stolen a bit of the color from the rosebuds she held.

  Was she embarrassed? How could he put her at ease? Robert moved closer to her and indicated the pink roses arranged in a dense ball of color. “You seemed rather intent on your bouquet. Is it for your room?”

  She shook her head, averting her gaze. She licked her lips nervously. “Your sister told me she loves pink roses, so I made this for her. Emily introduced herself to me this morning and showed me around. Your greenhouse is amazing.” She glanced at him tentatively. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the luxury of indulging myself this way.”

  At the mention of Emily, Robert squared his shoulders. He wasn’t alone in the house with Antonia. Others were nearby. He needed to remember that.

  With the grace of a dancer, Antonia balanced the small vase in one hand as she gathered her skirts to walk up the stairs.

  “Let me help you with that.” Robert hurried over to her and took the vase as he accompanied her up the grand staircase. “Did you and my sister meet at breakfast?”

  Antonia shied away from him slightly. She nodded as she tugged off her gardening gloves and tucked them under her apron ties. “I’m afraid I startled her when I entered the breakfast room.” She kept a bit more distance between them than he would have liked as they climbed the stairs.

  The paintings of Robert’s ancestors adorning the walls of the staircase seemed to watch him. Most of them cast him grim looks, but his great-grandmother’s gaze held a hint of mischief, as always. His mother’s portrait seemed different today. It held an uncharacteristic hint of disapproval. She’d always been a stickler for propriety, and she would have taken his behavior last night as a personal affront. He glanced guiltily away from her censure. She was right. He’d taken advantage of the situation.

  And even worse, he wanted to do it again, at the earliest opportunity.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I abandoned you this morning. I assumed you’d sleep late and then take breakfast in your room. I should have been here to make introductions.”

  “It’s of no matter. Once I explained the circumstances, Emily was most understanding. I’m afraid, however, that she may have the impression that having you save me from kidnappers was an exciting adventure.” She paused outside Emily’s bedroom door and knocked briefly, but there was no response.

  “My sister loves stories filled with intrigue and excitement. Mother was forever at her wits’ end trying to make her behave as a proper lady should. But there’s no stopping her.” Robert handed her the flowers, and his hand grazed her bare one.

  An awareness of their pent-up sexual energy sizzled between them, and Antonia snatched her hand back from his touch as though she’d felt an electric shock. Apparently, she was as acutely attuned to him as he was to her.

  She looked at him warily and reached out once again to take the vase, this time being careful not to brush against his bare hand.

  Fighting the urge to reach out and touch her, he took a step back. “I’ll wait in the hallway while you put those in her room.”

  Antonia gave him a wary glance before she nodded and then opened Emily’s bedroom door. The room seemed more youthful than Robert remembered. Or perhaps he simply hadn’t looked through the door in a very long time. It was decorated in pale shades of pink and cream, with accents of soft green. The arrangement of bright pink roses Antonia had selected provided a punch of color in the faded room. She crossed the pale rug toward Emily’s bedside table.

  Robert took in his sister’s domain. Mother had decorated it for Emily many years ago, but he doubted it still suited his vibrant sister, if it ever had. Perhaps he should ask her if she’d like to make any changes to it. She might prefer bolder colors to suit her personality. After all, she was a young woman now, just entering society.

  As a child, she’d been entranced by the guest bedroom Antonia was using. Of course, that had more to do with the hidden staircase. Mother had had a terrible time keeping Emily out of it. Not long before Father had died, she’d rearranged the furniture so that the bed blocked access to the staircase. No one had used it in years. He had no doubt that if he let Emily take over the room, she’d shift the bed to one side and immediately put that staircase back into use.

  He’d need to consider this a bit longer.

  Antonia took a step back from the bedside table and then leaned forward to reposit
ion the vase an inch to the left. With a nod, she glanced across the room at Robert and smiled.

  She looked so natural and at ease in the room that Robert could only stare in wonder at her. She was beautiful— the perfect picture of a lady.

  But she was an actress. Was she simply playing a part? He immediately dismissed the question from his mind as inconsequential. He liked seeing her this way. He liked seeing her in his home.

  After a moment, he noticed her dress. It wasn’t the same one she’d been wearing last night. An apron protected her pale-pink gown, and both articles of clothing looked as though they might have come from his sister’s wardrobe. In fact, upon closer examination, he was certain of it. The attire suited Antonia, but it also made her appear much younger than he’d believed her to be.

  “How old are you, Antonia?”

  She was walking toward him to join him in the hallway, but at his question she paused, apparently startled. Her eyebrows rose, and her face became a shade pinker.

  “Forgive me.” Robert waved his hand, wishing he hadn’t blurted out the question. “Sometimes I forget myself. It was rude of me to ask.”

  “After saving my life last night, I think you’ve earned a bit of candor.” She shook her head as she stepped forward and rested her hand on Emily’s doorknob, maintaining a discreet distance from him on the other side of the threshold. “I’m twenty-one.”

  So young. “It’s no wonder you and Emily struck up a friendship so quickly. She’s not much younger than you.”

  “It probably has more to do with the fact that I have two younger sisters.”

  “Ah, that reminds me— I was able to address the problem you raised last night.”

  A quick grin flitted across her lips, and she began fidgeting with the finger of one of the gloves she’d tucked into her waistband. “Which problem might that be? I have so many of them these days, it’s becoming difficult to keep them straight.”

  Robert swallowed as he watched her play with the glove. Her movements might be innocent, but in his current state of mind, he found the way she stroked her fingers along the glove’s digit to be highly suggestive and erotic. When she flicked a bit of dirt off the end of the index finger, he flinched. “That of having an appropriate chaperone,” he said, tearing his gaze away. “I prefer you stay here where we can ensure your safety until you’re no longer at risk of being kidnapped. I’ve arranged for Lady Huntley and her husband to join us for a few days. She can serve as your chaperone.”