The Earl's Dangerous Assignment

by Ginny Hartman

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  To Brenda and Jean—

  Synopsis

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  To Brenda and Jean—

  Two admirable, strong women.

  Your happily-ever-after isn't over,

  it's just waiting for you on the other side.

  S is for Secrets

  "I hope someday you can convince yourself of that, little lamb, before you find yourself falling hard and fast in love with me."

  Filled with ennui after society has shunned her family once her brother's criminal activities have come to light, Sophia Whitworth finds her whole world slowly crumbling around her.

  Upon discovering that her father has arranged a dreadful match for her, in hopes of restoring the family to the good graces of the ton, Sophia knows she must take matters into her own hands.

  For the past several years, Samuel Beaumont, the Earl of Coldwell, has been working as a secret agent for the crown in a noble effort to avoid his responsibilities at home. However, his latest assignment could be the most complicated one yet.

  Charged with the responsibility of discovering if Lady Sophia is guilty of treason, Samuel soon discovers that protecting his heart from falling in love with the bewitching girl will prove far more challenging and dangerous.

  “We must head back to London now.”

  Lady Sophia Whitworth kept her head down, not even bothering to look at Lord Coldwell who was walking the streets of Dumfries and Galloway with her, both of them disguised as poor, ragged men. “You may return to London whenever you wish. I have other plans,” she snapped.

  Lord Coldwell came to a quick stop and grabbed her brusquely by the arm, forcing her to look up into his gray eyes. “Whatever do you mean? The plan was to come to Scotland to make sure no one followed Lady Phelps here.”

  By no one, he meant the third man who'd been at the warehouse on the fateful night Lydia had been abducted. Lydia's father, Lord Phelps, had been killed when he'd threatened to kill Sophia. Her brother, Gilbert, had been taken into custody by the authorities at once, and the third, unidentified man, had somehow managed to escape amidst all the chaos of the night. The Crown had sent them on assignment to ensure that Miss Phelps wasn't being followed, that she was safe. Convinced that no one had followed the couple to Scotland, it was time Sophia moved on with her life.

  “Yes,” she ground out irritably. “Our assignment together is complete. Now you may return home and leave me be.”

  Sophia turned on her heel at once, unwilling to explain to the vexing Earl what her plans from here on out entailed. She wasn't entirely certain, for one; and for two, she was in no mood to listen to him chastise her and call her a fool.

  “I can't,” his firm, emotionless voice said behind her causing her to come up short. “I promised The Crown I'd deliver you home. My part of the assignment won't be complete until I've returned you safely to your parents.”

  “I'm not going back to London,” she reiterated slowly, firmly.

  “If that is so, how will I explain your absence upon my return?”

  Sophia shrugged, still refusing to turn and look into Lord Coldwell's eyes. “You're a professional liar. I'm certain you'll come up with something clever.”

  Without waiting for his response, Sophia inhaled a deep breath of salty sea air and took off sprinting down the street. She wasn't sure where she was going, she only knew she had to outrun Lord Coldwell, lose him through the winding streets of Dumfries and Galloway so he couldn't force her to return to London.

  She had nothing to return to but a family that would be disgraced after her brother's criminal activities came to light. Society would shun her and her parents instead of looking at them with compassion, victims of his villainous choices. She could foresee what her future in London would be, and she wanted no part of it.

  Sophia refused to glance behind her, fearing it would only slow her down, as her long legs, unencumbered by a skirt, were able to dash quickly down the road freely. Glancing ahead, she saw an alleyway tucked between two stone buildings and quickly darted inside, hoping Lord Coldwell didn't notice her actions. Her labored breathing was becoming ragged, but she refused to slow down, though she was unsure where the alley would lead to.

  She trained her ears to focus on the sound of footfalls around her, in an attempt to detect Lord Coldwell's proximity. When she heard nothing, she allowed her pace to slow, if only so she could catch her breath.

  It was a grave mistake. Just then, she heard him growl behind her ear, “You leave me no choice, little lamb,” then felt him scoop her up and deposit her firmly atop his shoulder, as if she were nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

  How had he managed to sneak up on her so quietly?

  “Let me go, you brute,” she screamed as she pounded her fists on his back.

  Lord Coldwell seemed unaffected by her outburst. “As soon as we arrive at your parent's residence, I will do just that.”

  “You're not holding me captive until then,” she cried in astonishment. The thought of being pinned inside of his crushing embrace for so long caused more than one unsettling feeling inside of her.

  “You've proven you can't be trusted, so that's precisely what I'm going to have to do.”

  Sophia wiggled and kicked, pounded her fists into his solid back, and even tried licking his face in an attempt to free herself from his hold, but it was to no avail. Her strength was no match for his own.

  Finally, she attempted one last tactic. Going limp in his arms, she feigned defeat. “Very well, you win. I'll go with you back to London, but please let me down.”

  Lord Coldwell laughed mirthlessly. Sliding her from his shoulder, he cradled her in his arms and for a moment, she thought she had won. His gray eyes pierced her with their intensity, and she found she had to look away from his gaze.

  “I have no intention of letting you out of my embrace until you're deposited safely into your father's care.”

  Feeling indignant, she spat, “Is that because you truly wish to protect me, noble one, or do you harbor selfish desires you are attempting to satisfy?”

  Lord Coldwell's pace slowed drastically as she hurled her sharp words at him. He grinned at her wickedly, and for a moment she was distracted by the deep dimples that framed his lips. “You must know that my first loyalty is always to The Crown. However, loyalties cannot change the fact that I've been a man far longer than I've been a spy.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” she asked weakly, feeling a strange flutter in her stomach at his words.

  “That if I can accomplish my duty while also satisfying a base need, I will be more than happy to do so.”

  Feeling uncertain of his meaning, Sophia glanced away and hurled an insult at him, if only to stave off the strange emotions his words had caused. “You're a selfish cad.”

  “And you're a vexing chit, though unfortunately, that doesn't make you any less desirable in the physical sense.”

  Icy blue eyes flashed angrily at his smug expression. “You delight in to
rmenting me.”

  “I can accuse you of the same thing, little lamb.”

  “How so?”

  His eyes dropped to her long, shapely legs. “These breeches you wear, they drive me to distraction.”

  “La! They're a disguise, donned solely to accomplish my purpose as a spy. I can assure you they're not intended to distract you.”

  “Intended or not, they do.”

  Squaring her shoulders, Sophia huffed, “This is merely a ploy to attempt to distract me. Your insincere flattery will win you no favors with me, my lord.”

  “That's a shame.” Sophia couldn't tell if he was being sincere. He continued, “However, I'm confident that I will get what I want in the end.”

  “Why is that, my lord?”

  “Because I always do,” he cooed confidently, then he grinned at her in a way that made her blood boil, with anger, not passion.

  Sophia had been so distracted by the vexing conversation; she failed to realize they were approaching the nondescript carriage they'd hired in London for their trip to Scotland. Still refusing to let her go, Lord Coldwell crawled into the carriage and plopped down on the seat, holding her firmly in his embrace.

  “You can release me now,” she said dryly.

  “No.”

  “Don't be ridiculous. Where would I go now that you have me trapped?”

  “I wouldn't put it past you to jump from the moving carriage in order to escape.”

  A faint blush rose to her cheeks. It was as if he'd read her mind. She glanced at the carriage floor and confessed, “I hate feeling as if my life is being dictated by another. If I do not wish to return to London, why should I?”

  “For your safety.”

  “Ha! Don't try to convince me that London society will be any less brutal than life on the run. You know how vicious the ton can be.”

  Lord Coldwell exhaled slowly. “Yes, they aren't known to be kind to those involved in a scandal. However, I can assure you they will be less brutal than what you will encounter on the streets. You forget all too soon that men like your brother exist. Men, who are more than willing to kidnap and sell women to the highest bidder simply to line their own pockets. You may become a source of vicious gossip in London, but at least you won't be viewed as a commodity to satisfy the wicked lusts of unscrupulous men.”

  Sophia knew he was right, though she wasn't ready to fully admit it. “But I don't intend to wander the streets. I plan to travel to Cornwall to be with my aunt.”

  “Caroline?” Lord Coldwell asked, one thick brow arched curiously on his forehead.

  “How do you know Aunt Caroline?”

  “Every spy who works for The Crown knows Caroline,” he replied with deep admiration that caused an unwelcome feeling of jealousy to stir in Sophia's breast.

  “She's very beautiful,” she stated, eager to hear his response.

  “Yes, that's true.”

  Feeling perturbed by his admission, Sophia made to pull away and distance herself from him, but his muscled arms tightened his hold and pulled her closer to his chest.

  “You're being too familiar, Lord Coldwell.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “I'm glad your job ends when we arrive in London. Afterward, it would delight me never to see you again.”

  “Little lamb,” he spoke softly as he gazed at her tenderly. “You're breaking my heart.”

  “I wasn't aware you had one.”

  “Now, that's not fair. You've never allowed me to prove otherwise.”

  “And why would I?” she asked as she gazed at him strangely. He was a mystery to her, causing a plethora of confusing emotions to torment her continually. “We've never been more than partners, assigned to work together by the Main Office. A few months ago, I didn't even know of your existence.”

  “Well, I knew of yours long before that.”

  A strange chill coursed down her body. “What do you mean?”

  “You're not as much of a stranger to me as you might suspect, little lamb,” he replied cryptically.

  “You're speaking in riddles. I can hardly decipher your meaning.”

  “Then I've been excelling at my job,” he said with a satisfied smile that made Sophia feel even more confused.

  She was about to pry further, but he quickly shushed her by holding one finger gently to her lips. Her gaze dropped to his long finger, making her go cross-eyed. “No more talking,” he commanded. “You are weary from all the adventure of the last couple of days. It's time to rest now.”

  She wanted to protest, but before she knew it, the gentle sway of the carriage lulled her to sleep. Her last angry thought before drifting off was that her body had betrayed her by obeying his command. She groggily promised herself she'd never let that happen again.

  Banished to the country.

  At least that's what it felt like to Sophia. It had been nearly two months since her family abruptly quit the season and fled to their country home, Goldborne Hall, in shame. She'd begged and pleaded with her parents to allow her to go stay with her Aunt Caroline in Cornwall instead, but they would hear none of it.

  The stain Gilbert's actions brought upon the family honor was too great of a burden. Neither of her parents could see past it to what was in Sophia's best interest. Being locked up at Goldborne Hall was akin to being thrown into Bedlam for Sophia. The drudgery of country living made her feel as if she would go mad.

  What was even worse than the tedium she experienced daily was her parent's constant bickering. Gilbert's actions had caused a deep melancholy to settle heavily upon the entire Whitworth family. Their future, which had once seemed so secure, was now filled with unknowns.

  “Milady, I'm here to ready you for the day.”

  Sophia turned ever-so-slightly at the softly spoken sound of her maid's voice. “Very well,” she sighed, wondering why they even bothered to keep to the daily routines when they both knew Sophia wouldn't be going anywhere or seeing anyone.

  Though country life was notably less exciting than London during the season, there were usually plenty of invitations to tea with the occasional house party thrown in to spice things up. But not this year. The Whitworth's had, more or less, been shunned by the peerage. It made Sophia angry that they were being punished for Gilbert's sins, but that's the way things were with the ton.

  Her maid helped her into a blue and cream striped morning gown before fashioning her hair into a simple Grecian knot. Sophia glanced casually into her looking glass. Though the blue in her dress brought out the color of her eyes, she felt dull. It was as if the last two months had sucked the life out of the normally vivacious girl.

  Turning from her reflection, she instructed her maid to hand her pelisse. Draping it over her arm, she dismissed her maid before quitting the room herself.

  Thus began her day, filled with boring activities aimed at passing the time. First, she'd go the breakfast room to break her fast. Afterward, she'd travel to the extensive gardens for a long walk and a bit of fresh air. Next, she'd retire to the library to read, inevitably falling asleep in the process. What would follow was afternoon tea with her mother, then embroidery and letter writing in the drawing room.

  It was all so monotonous it made Sophia want to gag. Not so long ago, her life was filled with secretive adventures working as a spy, but those days were likely over now. She still hadn't fully mourned the loss of that life, though she knew one day it would need to be done. Perhaps she was still in denial that she'd never work as a spy again. Afterall, her Aunt Caroline was approaching three decades old and was still in service to The Crown. Perhaps she'd follow in her footsteps one day.

  The thought gave her the barest glimmer of hope as she entered the breakfast room, though the fleeting, happy thought was dashed at once when she heard the raised voices of her parents. Sophia closed her eyes and groaned as she listened to the heated exchange.

  “I wouldn't be in this predicament, Margaret, if you'd done your duty and provided me with an heir and a spare.”
<
br />   Her mother inhaled sharply at her father's condescending tone. “Oh, is that so, George? The problem isn't that I was unable to provide you with more sons, it's that you failed to raise the one I gave you in a proper manner. You continually turned a blind eye to his odious behavior.”

  “I knew nothing of his sinful behavior,” her father roared angrily, causing Sophia to flinch. “You were just as convinced as I that Gilbert was nothing more than the gentleman he portrayed himself to be.”

  “Oh, is that so, George?” her mother intoned once more. “What about the time he was at University and we learned of his...”

  Before her mother could finish her sentence, her father bolted to his feet and slammed both of his fists against the table, causing the dishes to rattle angrily. “Bite your tongue, woman. We agreed never to speak of the incident again.”

  Though Sophia had the desire to flee from the uncomfortable scene before her, part of her was overly curious as to what incident her father and mother were referring to. She desperately wanted to hear what the secret was, so she stayed.

  Margaret, undeterred by her husband's anger, stiffened her shoulders and rose to her feet. Looking him squarely in the eye, she hissed, “Perhaps if we'd addressed the issue all those years ago, instead of sweeping it under the rug, Gilbert wouldn't have turned out the way he has. Even back then, your reputation, the family's honor, meant more to you than the character of your son. Well, see where that has gotten us? Now, neither one holds any merit.” Then, with a final shaky breath that betrayed the true emotions, she was feeling, Margaret added, “We are ruined.”

  Sophia tensed, waiting for her father's volatile reaction, but it never came. Instead, his shoulders slumped, and he suddenly looked small, which was an impressive feat considering he was one of the tallest men she knew. She watched in shock as he walked towards her mother, extended his hands, and placed them gently on her shoulders.

  “Margaret, there's still a glimmer of hope. I have sent a missive to the Reverend Balfour and expect a response any day.”