Once Upon a Spy: A Secrets and Seduction Book

by Sheridan Jeane

  “Then you are satisfied it hasn’t been removed since it was added by the late Squire Winter?”

  “Yes, my lord. We are.”

  “In that case, your client may remove the covering.”

  Walter licked his lips as he approached the easel. He reached up and began tugging at the slit, trying to widen it.

  The painting wobbled on the easel, but both Robert and Frederick quickly grabbed the frame to steady it. Walter hardly seemed aware of their assistance, so intent was he on the widening hole in the fabric. The small tacks popped off the edge of the fabric, stuttering to the wood floor in a clattering spray of metal.

  Antonia held her breath as she tried to catch sight of the written dedication on the back. Had she glimpsed the edge of it? That wispy bit of dark-brown paint?

  Walter gave a stronger tug, tearing away a large swath of the muslin in one jerk.

  Intent on his goal, Walter remained completely unaware of the moment when everyone else’s attention became fixed on the words painted on the back of the painting rather than on him. Something else caught his attention. His hand darted forward to snatch the small item he had revealed.

  He extracted a sheaf of papers, but before he could examine them, Mr. Montlake extracted them from his grasp.

  “That’s mine,” Walter said, shooting the judge a furious glance.

  “Yes, Squire Winter,” the judge said. “We are all in agreement that anything found hidden in the painting is yours. But you seem to be under the misconception that you should be able to examine it before I can. Allow me to disabuse you of that notion. This is my courtroom.”

  Walter reddened, but he didn’t protest as Mr. Montlake carried the sheaf of papers to the judge.

  Lord Tidmore glanced through the papers, pursing his lips. Then he shook his head and glanced up at Antonia. “It would appear your father had a romantic nature. These appear to be letters he and your mother exchanged. If Squire Winter has no objection, I believe they should rightfully go to you and your sisters.”

  “I do object. They’re mine, as is everything else in that house.”

  The judge’s lips narrowed, but he passed the letters back to the clerk, who then carried them back to Walter.

  As he took possession of the letters, he shot Antonia a look of pure malice.

  When would Walter notice what had been revealed on the back of the painting? The tattered bits of muslin dangled below the bottom of the gilt frame, like remnants of a torn dress. But Walter Winter was too busy gloating to bother to look at it.

  Lord Tidmore glanced at the back of the painting and then widened his eyes in surprise. “Squire Winter, you seem to have uncovered more than we expected when you removed that piece of muslin.”

  Walter Winter turned to follow the judge’s gaze. Antonia had already read the words. In fact, she had them memorized. She watched as her uncle began to read them and relished the look of shock and dismay that flashed across his face.

  Because it read: “To my daughter, Anya Nevsky, in celebration of her wedding to Marcus Winter on July 7, 1832. May love always nourish and sustain you. Your loving father, Vladamir Nevsky.”

  “It appears that we’ve found your proof,” Lord Tidmore said to Antonia.

  “I don’t understand,” Uncle Walter blurted. “How is this proof? You can’t possibly believe this scrawl is proof.”

  “Of course I can. You’ve already stated that this painting has been in your possession until this morning and that it hasn’t been altered.”

  “She did it,” Uncle Walter said, turning to point an accusing finger at Antonia. “I don’t know how, but she did. She added that dedication. I’m certain of it.”

  “But how, Mr. Winter? And when? You examined the covering and determined it hadn’t been tampered with.” The judge shook his head. “Are you now suggesting that Miss Winter added the dedication a decade ago, before she even knew her legitimacy was in question?”

  Her uncle scowled. “It had to have been last week. One of my servants let her into the house. She stole that church register while she was there. She could have altered the painting as well.”

  The judge’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me, Mr. Winter, but are you telling me that Miss Winter stole this”— he held the book up— “from your home? That’s a very serious accusation.”

  Walter nodded vigorously. “Yes. The cook let her in. That Antonia is a conniving one, she is.”

  “And how is it, Mr. Winter, that Father Sergey’s church register was in your possession?”

  Walter Winter froze, and Antonia could swear that he stopped breathing when he realized what he’d just revealed.

  “Perhaps we should ask Father Sergey to rejoin us. I believe he mentioned Mr. Winter would know why the book was damaged. I’d like to hear more.”

  The helpful young clerk nodded and left the room. He returned a short time later with Father Sergey. The elderly man looked much improved. Some color was back in his cheeks, and his step seemed more confident as he rejoined them. He’d changed in the past few minutes. He seemed filled with purpose and determination.

  “Father Sergey,” the judge said, “can you tell the court what you know about how this book came to be in the possession of Mr. Winter?”

  “Book was stolen from church.” His thickly accented voice boomed in the courtroom, and Antonia imagined him speaking before his congregation, holding their attention with his intense force of will. “Man who stole book also killed my wife. My Magda.” He paused as the intense pain of her loss flickered over his lined face. “Man set fire to church, beat my poor Magda senseless, and left her to die.”

  Other than the small gasp of horror from Evalina, the courtroom was silent. Still.

  Lord Tidmore frowned deeply and then glanced meaningfully at the young clerk, who nodded and ducked out the door.

  “Doctor from nearby village helped man with bad burn on hand and arm,” Father Sergey continued. “When soldiers questioned doctor, he told them about this man. He carried book that seemed— what is word?” He mumbled something in Russian.

  “Precious,” Lord Tidmore said.

  “Yes. Precious. Doctor said book seemed precious to this man. He would not let anyone touch it, even when doctor bandaged his hand. But this man, he disappeared during the night. Soldiers never found him.”

  “How do you know who stole it?” Mr. Montlake asked. “Did you ever see the man?”

  “Yes. Before fire, man came to me. He wanted to destroy book, but I said no. Man tried to give me money,” he said, indignant. “Still, I said no. It was long ago and man had thick beard, but I will always remember his eyes.” He raised both hands, touching the sides of his own eyes with his first two fingers. “Unusual eyes the color of cognac.” He turned to look at Walter and pointed at him, his arm strong and straight. “Your eyes. It was you. I would know you anywhere. You are man who stole book, burned church, and murdered my Magda. You are man who ruined my life.”

  With a look of panic in his distinctive eyes, Walter sprang for the aisle in an attempt to run toward the door. Antonia was so surprised she froze, but Robert didn’t suffer from the same reaction. He immediately began to move.

  He rushed after Walter and grabbed his arm, yanking him to a halt. The courtroom doors flew open, and the young clerk who’d slipped away moments ago now pushed into the room flanked by two burly-looking guards. They bore down on Walter, surrounding and subduing him.

  “Have him stand with Mr. Parish,” Lord Tidmore said.

  The three large men herded Uncle Walter back to his place next to his lawyer.

  “Running, Mr. Winter, strikes me as an admission of guilt,” the judge said, glowering at him.

  Mr. Winter trembled, shaking his head from side to side, but he didn’t utter a word.

  “Check hand,” Father Sergey said. “Man who set fire has burn on hand and up to elbow. Bad burn.”

  At the judge’s nod, the young clerk took Walter by the arm. He tried to pull away, but the clerk
ignored him and pushed up Walter’s sleeve, revealing the shiny, puckered skin. It had the appearance of melted wax. Walter tried to yank free from the younger man’s grasp but couldn’t.

  Lord Tidmore’s face looked thunderous. “This is Chancery Court, not Criminal Court, and therefore we cannot try you here for your crimes. I can, however, hold you in custody until that time when you can be made accountable.”

  Antonia’s knees felt weak, and she clutched at Robert’s arm for support. The judge continued to speak, stating that he’d seen adequate proof of her parents’ marriage and declaring the three daughters as their legitimate heirs.

  She stared at her uncle’s dumbfounded expression.

  They’d won. They’d actually won.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Make haste! The tide of Fortune soon ebbs.

  - Silius Italicus

  As Lord Tidmore ruled in Antonia’s favor, Robert grinned broadly at her. Her jubilant smile filled him with joy.

  He’d known she’d win, and she had. She and her sisters could finally go home. A feeling of rightness with the world swept over him. Their plans were coming to fruition. At least, the first step had.

  Frederick took Robert by the arm and pulled him to one side. “Collect the book,” he murmured. “Keep it safe. My meeting should take a couple of hours, and by then I’ll know the best course to follow regarding the— other situation.”

  “Shouldn’t the book take precedence?”

  Frederick looked grim. “I can’t be in two places at once. The man I must confide in is leaving London today, and if I don’t speak to him now, I’ll have to wait a fortnight. I don’t want the other matter to linger. “He appeared to think for a moment, and then moved closer. “Deliver the book to Queen Victoria, without delay. I wouldn’t want her to suspect we postponed doing so any longer than absolutely necessary.”

  Robert’s unease began pricking at him, but Frederick was right. They’d delayed too long already. He needed to give her the book and be done with it. It would be a relief to be rid of it.

  Frederick swept him with an assessing glance. He seemed to like what he saw because he gave a sharp nod, turned, and hurried out the door.

  A few moments later, Robert joined Mr. Montlake and the three sisters in an empty room down the hall from the courtroom.

  Robert moved to stand next to Antonia and placed his hand on the small of her back. He might have been in close proximity to her over the past few hours, but there’d been few opportunities to touch her.

  He wanted her close.

  Strike that. He wanted her in his bed.

  She seemed content to stand next to him. In fact, now she leaned into him slightly. Robert wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and give her a kiss that would curl her toes. But he couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

  Mr. Montlake sorted through some court documents and seemed to notice the restlessness of everyone in the room. “You can sit in here while your carriage is brought around.”

  “Sit?” Stephanie retorted. “How could I possibly sit? I’m much too excited.” She grinned as she began pacing the room. She appeared to vibrate with elation. “You did it,” she told Mr. Montlake as she whirled to face him. “I can hardly believe it.”

  “I know.” Evalina added. Even she couldn’t keep her normally stoic expression serene. “I dreamed of this for so long, it hardly seems real. I do hope—”

  “But wait,” Stephanie interrupted. Her eyes widened as she grabbed hold of Antonia’s upper arm, dragging her away from Robert. “This means we can return to our home in Maidenhead immediately, doesn’t it? Could we go there today?”

  Antonia appeared bemused. “I suppose so. Mr. Montlake, can we?”

  He nodded. “I don’t see why not. The house is yours, after all. Just as it should have been all along. You might want to stay here in London one more day and make plans. Some of the other property might still be in question, since your uncle should have inherited his share when your grandfather died, but the house was solely your father’s. Everything your mother inherited from your grandfather is yours as well.”

  “We’re wealthy again?” Evalina asked. “No more living at the school?”

  “No more hiding in shame?” Stephanie added.

  “I wish we could undo everything that happened to you over the past year,” Mr. Montlake said. “It’s a travesty that your lives unraveled based on your uncle’s lies. He was clever.”

  “Not clever enough,” Stephanie said.

  “If not for the painting’s dedication—” Mr. Montlake shook his head. “But that’s behind you now. I think your sister is right. Take a day to prepare for your homecoming. Tomorrow you can return to Maidenhead in triumph. Your uncle will be the one forced to hang his head in shame from this moment on.”

  “Until he’s hanged for murder,” Robert added, glancing at Antonia to watch her reaction. She didn’t seem surprised by his comment. Apparently she’d already reached the same conclusion.

  “Did he really kill Father Sergey’s wife?” Evalina asked, sounding both frightened and fascinated.

  “It certainly appears that way,” Antonia said.

  “He always intimidated me,” Evalina said. “Those eyes— so filled with anger.” She gave a shudder.

  “Let’s not think of him,” Stephanie said. “Let’s think of our future and of Maidenhead.”

  The girls began making plans to return home, so Robert pulled Antonia to one side to speak with her. “I need to retrieve the book from Lord Tidmore,” he said. “It’s imperative I deliver it to the Queen without delay.”

  Antonia nodded. “I’ll join you. I want to thank him for expediting our case.”

  They made their way through the courthouse to a dark-paneled waiting area outside the judge’s chambers. A servant carried their message to Lord Tidmore. They barely had time to take seats before the judge swept into the room and they rose to their feet again.

  Lord Tidmore no longer wore the white wig or black robes of his office. He looked more human in a frock coat, and his intimidating aura had all but disappeared. “Miss Winter,” he said, smiling at her. “I’m so glad the evidence supported your claim. A grave injustice was done to you and your sisters. I only hope my decision will help mitigate the damage.”

  “Thank you. I never imagined things would be resolved so quickly.”

  “Although many of the Chancery Court’s cases linger for years, yours was a relatively straightforward one. With the substantial evidence you provided to prove your parents’ marriage was legal along with the clear instructions of his last will, my decision was a simple one. It isn’t often that I uncover the identity of a murderer in my courtroom. This is a case I’ll remember for years to come.” He took Antonia’s hand. “Congratulations on the restoration of your name and your inheritance. You should, however, be aware that your uncle might still try to claim he should have inherited part of your grandfather’s estate. I’m referring to your father’s father. That is an altogether different matter and outside of today’s ruling.”

  “I don’t know if it will ever come to that. It is likely my uncle will be too busy defending himself against a murder charge.”

  He frowned. “We have yet to see how this ends. I only hope nothing bad comes from revealing that book’s secrets. And on that note, I have something to give you.” He reached into a voluminous pocket of his frock coat and plucked out the leather-bound volume.

  “I hope you recognize how dangerous this book is,” Lord Tidmore said, handing it to Antonia. “It may have solved your problems, Miss Winter, but it brought your uncle low. If I’m not mistaken, it contains secrets even more potent than the ones already revealed.” His gaze darted toward Robert. “I quake at the thought of the trouble it would cause if it fell into the wrong hands.”

  Robert slid a protective arm around Antonia and moved closer to her. He didn’t know how he’d do it, but he’d protect her. “You’ve read it?” Robert asked, raising his eyebrows.


  Lord Tidmore sucked in his breath and held it for a moment. “I believe it would be wise to deny all knowledge of that book’s contents.”

  Robert nodded. “Agreed.”

  “I only hope no one assumes I’ve read the entire thing.” He looked grim. “I wish you both the best. I suggest you divest yourself of that dangerous item as quickly as possible.” He gave them a slight nod and then excused himself to return to his chambers.

  Antonia tightened her grip on the volume, staring down at the cross on the cover. “This book is quite the mischief maker,” she muttered. With a sigh, she opened her reticule and slipped the book inside it.

  Lord Tidmore’s warnings resonated. Robert glanced around them, searching for any potential threat. Tidmore was right. They wouldn’t be safe until they’d rid themselves of the church register. He came to a quick decision.

  “Let’s leave immediately,” Robert said, taking her by the elbow and hurrying her toward the main entrance of the courthouse.

  “What about my sisters— Mr. Montlake?”

  “They can take my carriage while we hire a cab. If we leave quickly, no one will be able to follow us. The sooner this is out of our hands, the better. We’ll take it directly to Queen Victoria.”

  “The Queen?” Antonia repeated, stumbling. Robert steadied her. “Don’t you mean you’ll deliver it to someone at the palace?”

  “Her Majesty doesn't want any intermediaries involved. The book is too precious. Entrusting it to anyone else would be extraordinarily foolish.”

  Robert paused at a desk and quickly scribbled out a note explaining their sudden departure and then handed it to one of the footmen at the entrance. “Please deliver this to Mr. Montlake,” he told the young man as he handed him the folded paper. “You’ll find him in the room next to Lord Tidmore’s courtroom.” The footman nodded and hurried off to complete his task.

  The first carriage for hire happened to be a clarence. With its closed interior, it would be more discreet than an open hansom. Robert hurried Antonia inside before anyone else could claim it.