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My Lady, My Spy (Secrets and Seduction Book 4)

Page 6

by Sheridan Jeane


  Frederick narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Is that all you have to say? You’re irritated because you’ve been inconvenienced after you ruined a man’s life?”

  Lord Cary stared at him blankly. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Frederick let out a sigh. “I’m referring to the man you bribed. The one who was dismissed.”

  Confusion fled his face. “Ah. Him.” He shook his head. “The man never should have been a guard. He wasn’t suited for it. Much too easily bored. He rather enjoyed the excitement of helping one of Her Majesty’s spies.”

  Something cold tightened around Frederick’s neck. “I thought you said you bribed him.”

  “No, no. I was mistaken. I recall the young man quite clearly now. Idealistic. Easily swayed.”

  “You ruined his life.”

  “Don’t be foolish.” Lord Cary’s face reddened, but then his voice took on a defensive tone. “He ruined his own life. A man should know his own limitations, don’t you think? He wasn’t suited for the position of night guard. He should have known that about himself. Life is made of choices. What position to take. Who to marry. Who to help. Whether to turn right or left at a crossroads. Some decisions are minor, and some have enormous consequences. That former night watchman made too many poor ones. I certainly didn’t force him to become a pickpocket. If fact, it appears he made yet another poor career choice, given that he ended up in jail so quickly.”

  “But you manipulated him into losing his job. If not for your interference, he’d probably still be working there.”

  “Ah. Now I comprehend your meaning.” Lord Cary rubbed at his chin for a moment. “You might be right about that. I found him to be a likable enough fellow, if a bit gullible.” He swayed his head from side to side, as if weighing a conclusion. “You’re right. Although I doubt he would have remained in his position as a guard for long, I’m fairly certain he never would have turned to a life of crime if he hadn’t been sacked.” He let out a sigh. “I suppose that when he was dismissed, his employer refused to give him any sort of letter of recommendation.”

  “You’re correct in your supposition. You manipulated him into a desperate position. I thought you already knew all this.”

  Lord Cary jutted out his lower lip as he shook his head. “No. I don’t keep track of all the men I’ve ever used, but now you’re making me wonder if others might have suffered due to my interference in their lives.”

  “Only now?” Frederick asked, blurting out the question before he could stop himself.

  Lord Cary looked startled. “What was that?”

  Frederick peered at him more closely. “What will you do now?”

  Lord Cary scowled. “I think I’ll investigate this further. Although I doubt there’s anything I can do to help now that the man is in prison. But there’s his family to think about.” He shook his head. “Blast it. Now I’m feeling guilty about the way I used him.”

  Lord Cary's methods had radically changed since that day. He’d become more cautious when manipulating people. In fact, he’d become rather protective of those around him. Frederick believed he now viewed them as extensions of his spy network rather than as disposable items.

  Frederick sighed deeply. He hoped Lord Cary would be able to help him with this particular mess. He could use a guiding hand right now.

  The way he’d treated Josephine these past few days weighed heavily upon his mind. He knew he should break things off with her, but the simple fact that he couldn’t erase her from his thoughts made him doubt the wisdom of his choice. He’d found that after he made a good decision, he could set a problem aside and stop worrying about it. Therefore, cutting her out of his life had been a poor one.

  He needed a better solution. One he could live with.

  He had two thorny problems to address, but only one had the fate of the nation depending upon it. That one needed to take precedence. Once it was under control, he could address the one closer to his heart.

  He knew exactly where to find Lord Cary tonight. The man thrived on gossip. It was like fuel for his espionage network. They rarely met at the Foreign Office. Lord Cary preferred attending social events where he could simultaneously conduct business and collect new tidbits of information. When meeting with someone in his spy network at one of these public venues, he relied upon a code he’d devised. This worked well for providing simple updates, but the in-depth conversation Frederick required tonight would oblige him to schedule a late-night meeting. Probably at Lord Cary’s club.

  Frederick hurried on his way, and a short time later he strolled into Lord and Lady Aldridge’s home for their musical soiree.

  The high-ceilinged room with its cream-colored walls hummed with the conversation of elegantly dressed members of the upper class. The women’s bell-shaped gowns swayed gracefully as they swept across the room on the arms of men dressed in nearly identical black evening clothes.

  Not for the first time, Frederick wondered at Lord Cary’s choice of venue. The Aldridges weren’t involved in the spymaster’s network, but he regularly used their home as a meeting place when they held one of their many social gatherings. In fact, none of the people who hosted events where Frederick met with him were ever directly involved in espionage.

  From across the room, he spotted the lovely young soprano who would entertain them tonight. She and Lady Wilmot, an avid music lover, were engrossed in conversation. If Frederick’s brother Robert had been here, he would want to hurry across the room to join them, but not so for Frederick. Tonight’s soiree with its musical entertainment was simply a means to an end. He needed to meet Lord Cary, and the Aldridges’ event provided a venue.

  A moment later, Lady Wilmot and the soprano both turned to face someone, and Frederick realized they were looking directly at Lord Cary.

  Well, this was an interesting development. Perhaps Lady Wilmot’s presence explained why Lord Cary had chosen this particular event for a rendezvous. He’d seen them together often recently. Could she be one of his spies as well? He hoped not. He liked her too much to wish that sort of life on such an open and honest person. The secrets she’d be forced to keep would eat away at her, much in the same way they did him. He’d become accustomed to that sort of burden at an early age.

  Lord Cary caught his gaze and tilted his head, indicating a spot nearby where they should meet. Then he spoke to Lady Wilmot and the young soprano, obviously saying his goodbyes. He casually turned away from them and glided over to intercept Frederick.

  “Good to see you, Woolsy.” Lord Cary accompanied the greeting with a jovial pat on the back. According to Lord Cary’s code, “good to see you” meant it was safe for them to speak.

  “I’m running late tonight,” he said, letting the man know his assignment hadn’t gone well last night.

  “Late? You? There’s a first for everything.” Lord Cary narrowed his eyes. “It’s probably your timepiece. I can give you name of an excellent man who can repair it quickly.” That was Cary’s offer of help.

  Frederick nodded. “Is he fast? What’s his address?” Those questions let Lord Cary know he wanted to meet right away.

  Lord Cary frowned. “I believe it’s 1122 Cross Street. I’ll check when I get home and send you a letter confirming it.”

  Of course, “1122” meant they’d meet at Lord Cary’s club at around eleven o’clock tonight. Twenty-two meant he might be late.

  “It’s kind of you to trouble yourself,” Frederick replied, agreeing to the appointed time.

  From across the room, Frederick caught the flash of that unusual shade of celadon blue. Josephine? Was she here, or was it simply that he couldn’t get her out of his mind?

  “Admiral, wonderful to see you,” Lord Cary said heartily as a man approached them. Frederick took the opportunity to slip away and move closer to the bright spot of color he’d noticed.

  The crowd shifted, hiding the woman from view, but it had to be Josephine. The very room seemed to vibrate with her presen
ce.

  As though in a choreographed dance, the crowd shifted again. Frederick spotted her not ten feet away. She tilted her head as she smiled up at another man, her blond hair lustrous in the lamplight and her sapphire necklace throwing off reflected glints of light. Then her face softened.

  Frederick tensed. She stood next to Lord Temple. Why was she smiling up at him that way? Frederick narrowed his eyes. She’d been talking with the lordling at the embassy last night as well.

  Frederick’s gaze raked over the slim, brown-haired man. A nice enough fellow, if you liked that type. But he wasn’t suited to Josephine. She’d trample him into the ground. She was much too high-spirited and intelligent to be a good match for a man as pleasant and uncomplicated as Lord Temple.

  An instant later, Frederick stiffened as Lord Temple casually placed his hand on Josephine’s lower back and leaned closer to her cheek. It rankled. The man appeared to be murmuring something in her ear. It took all Frederick’s self-control not to storm over there and drag her away.

  He forced himself to wait to see how she’d react. She quickly had Lord Temple back under control. It was quite clever of her. She tossed back her head to laugh, shifting away from him so his hand slipped from her waist. Poor Temple seemed transfixed by the arch of her throat.

  She glanced over her shoulder and caught Frederick staring at them. A slow, knowing smile spread over her lips before she turned back to face Lord Temple.

  A moment later, Lord Temple left her, heading directly toward the refreshment table.

  With her chin tilted down, Josephine glanced at Frederick from beneath hooded eyes, beckoning him with her gaze.

  Such a tease.

  He didn’t bother to dawdle as he joined her. She might believe she’d called him over, but he only went because he’d decided to do so. He was perfectly capable of staying away if he so desired.

  As he swept up next to her, he didn’t pause, but simply took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

  He half-expected her to pull away. He was relieved when she didn’t. Instead, she allowed herself to be escorted through the doorway and down the hall to a nearby chamber.

  In the dark room, the only light came from the open windows leading to the well-lighted patio. Fortunately, no other guests were outside at the moment. Even if they had been, it was unlikely they’d be able to see into the darkened morning room.

  He glanced down at Josephine in the dim light. She was being so biddable. So out of character.

  As she stared at him expectantly, he suddenly realized how out of character he was behaving as well. He hadn’t even spoken a word to her.

  Why had he brought her to this room? He wasn’t even certain what had driven him to do so, but when he’d found her, he’d known he needed to be alone with her.

  He moved closer. She shifted her weight, flattening her skirts against the heavy desk at her back. She stopped, trapped between him and the leather-topped desk.

  Frederick reached out his left hand and touched her waist in exactly the same spot where Lord Temple had touched her. He slowly glided his hand along the warmth of her ribcage.

  Her breath caught and she let out a small gasp of surprise at his touch. But she didn’t pull away as she had with Lord Temple. Instead, she stared up at him, her mouth slightly open, her lower lip full and soft and... trembling?

  The sight of that quavering movement pierced him as nothing else could. He leaned down, unable to resist the temptation of her lips. As their mouths touched, he nearly moaned with the pleasure of it. The warmth of her lips wrapped around him like a dream. His hand tightened at her waist, then he pulled her closer, crushing her body against his. Wanting, nay, craving what she’d freely given him only a week ago.

  How had he stayed away from her for so long? How had he convinced himself he could live anything resembling a life without her?

  Her hand slid up his chest. She pulled at the lapel of his jacket, then slipped her hand beneath it, flattening it to the spot where his heart thundered. The heat of her palm seared into his skin. Her hand clenched, grabbing hold of his shirt. But only for a moment— an instant later, she flattened it against his chest again.

  And pushed.

  Frederick stumbled back. Dazed.

  She turned her back to him. The pale arch of her neck glowed reproachfully in the soft light. Vulnerable.

  As she glanced over her shoulder at him, he saw the pain in her eyes. The confusion. “Frederick, what are you doing? What do you want from me? Is this all I am to you? A plaything?” Her fists clenched in the satin skirt of her gown, crushing the delicate fabric. “Am I nothing more to you than a toy you pull out on a whim and then toss aside again when you’re bored?”

  Her words struck him like a fistful of snow. The pain in her voice pierced his heart with shards of ice. He shook his head. “Is that what you believe? That I hold you in such low esteem?”

  Her eyes seemed to darken with anger as she faced him, planting her hands on her hips. “What else am I to think? You court me for nearly a year until I can no longer resist you, and once you’ve had me, you avoid me. Or should I say, you avoid me until you see me with another man.”

  “Lord Temple? You think I’m jealous of that specimen? That’s ridiculous. He’s so malleable you already have him dancing to your tune.” He regretted the words as soon as he’d spoken them.

  A sharp smile cut across her face. “I saw you arrive,” she said. “You didn’t notice me at first, but once you did, the look you gave Lord Temple was a telling one. Do you dislike him so very much?”

  She’d been able to read that in him? Frederick pressed his lips together. Had he lost control over his emotions where she was concerned, or was she particularly skilled at interpreting his facial expressions? “Are you suggesting that I’m so awkward and inelegant that I broadcast my every emotion for the world to see?”

  Her stern expression softened as she gathered her hands at her waist. “Not to worry, master spy. It’s only because I’ve come to know you so well.” Her face tightened again. “Which means I know you well enough to recognize when you’re toying with me.”

  He flinched from her words. “I’d never treat you so shabbily. I know I’ve lost your trust, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say I hold you in the highest esteem.”

  She narrowed her eyes, examining his face, and then gave a terse nod. “You believe what you’re saying. That doesn’t mean you’re telling me the entire truth. I don’t believe you know your own mind where I’m concerned.”

  Frederick let out a huff of frustration. “You believe me but you don’t believe me? Is that what you’re saying? Isn’t that a bit contradictory?” She turned her face to one side, but her hurt and confusion slammed into him. He’d done this to her. He reached out to stroke her neck with the back of his fingertips. “What man truly knows his own heart, especially where a woman is concerned?”

  She shivered and reflexively bent her cheek toward his hand. Then she pulled away. “Many. But it takes being truthful to yourself. I don’t think you’re particularly adept at that.”

  A flush swept over his face. She wanted truth. How could he convince her he wanted the same thing between them? “I— my brother and I called on the Russian ambassador today,” he blurted out. “I thought you might want to be kept apprised of our progress.”

  She stilled. “Does the ambassador suspect Robert stole the book?”

  Frederick dragged his fingers through his hair. “That was our first assumption when his men tried to kidnap Robert off the street last night.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened. “Did they harm him?”

  Frederick shook his head. “We thought it best to confront Ambassador Revnik immediately so we could address his suspicions, but it turned out he didn’t believe we’d stolen it.” He gave her a faint smile. “He was after the real thief. A woman in a silver gown. He knew exactly who she was and hoped we could provide information about her.”

  Josephine rubbed
at her forehead. “Does that mean she’s a spy?”

  Frederick swung his head from side to side. “I don’t think so. The ambassador said something strange. Apparently the woman is ‘too important’ for him to question directly. He preferred trying to kidnap an earl. Can you make any sense of that? Because I can’t.”

  “More important than an earl? That’s interesting. Who is she?”

  “I still don’t know. Based on Robert’s description, she’s British, cultured, and is skilled at deception. I originally assumed she must be a spy, but now I’m beginning to reconsider. She isn’t one of ours, and she clearly doesn’t work for the Russians. Perhaps she’s working for the French.” He closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration. “If only I could locate her. It’s frustrating she was able to disappear like mist.”

  He let out a sigh as he stepped back from her. “We should rejoin the other guests before your absence is noted.”

  She reached up and smoothed his hair in place. “That’s better. You were looking a bit tousled.”

  “I trust you won’t reveal any of this.”

  She scowled at him. “Of course not. Honestly, Frederick. Do you think I’m featherbrained?”

  “It’s not— of course—”

  She said nothing, but swept past him and yanked open the door. He hurried to catch up. At the door leading back to the gathering, he offered her his arm.

  She stared at it for a moment, and he could sense her indecision. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to reenter the salon alone, or with him.

  “It will look less suspicious if nothing seems amiss between us.”

  She frowned as she grudgingly placed her hand on his arm. “I’m not a ninny,” she muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She ignored him.

  As they reentered the room, Frederick glanced around, but no one seemed to take note of their entrance. Not even Lord Temple, who was speaking with another gentleman, Mr. Easterly. As Frederick watched, Lord Temple gave Mr. Easterly a polite nod and turned toward the refreshment table.

 

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