He waggled his eyebrows. “I live to be mischievous with you. You’re my undoing, my dear. I’ve learned to anticipate your impact on me and plan for it.”
She nearly lost her composure. “Do you mean to say you included bedding me in your schedule for tonight?” She scowled in mock severity. “Does that mean I’m becoming too predictable?”
“Predictably intoxicating? That’s a good thing.” He tightened his arm about her waist, pulling her closer for a moment. “Too bad we have a schedule to keep. I’d love nothing more than to pull you into one of those alcoves and make love to you until you’re trembling under my kisses.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You wouldn’t.”
Frederick leaned closer, murmuring in her ear. “I would, if not for the fact that we have a tight schedule tonight.” The warmth of his breath brushing against her ear sent a shiver down her spine.
She exhaled shakily. “Just like every night when we’re on a mission. You always plan things to the last second.”
“Can I help it that I’m a stickler for details?”
“I wouldn’t have you any other way. It’s gotten us out of a difficult situation more times than I like to recall.”
He cocked his head to one side as he gazed into her eyes. “Speaking of being a stickler for details, do you happen to remember what day it is today?”
She couldn’t hold back her smile. She’d been waiting for this moment. “How could I not? Isn’t that why you arranged everything so we’d be here tonight? Constantinople is decidedly romantic.”
He grinned back at her. “I wanted to make certain you were in the right frame of mind.”
She grinned at that. “You’re sweet. Thoughtful. Devious.”
“You know me well.” His grin might seem quick and relaxed, but she could see through it. He was nervous. “Does that mean you’ll give me the answer I want?” he asked.
That mischievous and perverse streak in her tempted her to draw out this moment. To keep him on tenterhooks. But as she looked into his hopeful eyes, she simply couldn’t do it to him. He’d been waiting patiently for her answer for a year, just as she’d demanded.
“Yes.”
His arm tightened around her. “Which question are you answering? The one from just now, or the one from a year ago?”
“Both.”
He suddenly stopped their twirling movement across the dance floor, letting the other couples swirl past him. Then he picked her up and swung her around in his arms before pulling her close and kissing her soundly.
The other people on the dance floor seemed startled. Various expressions crossed the faces around them: surprise, shock, displeasure, even satisfaction.
Before Josephine could react, Frederick took her hand and hurried her off the dance floor and toward a side door.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked as he continued to pull her down the hallway. He glanced from side to side, as though he was searching for something.
They turned a corner and Frederick stopped in front of a pair of arched wooden doors. “Here,” he said.
Before she could react, he pulled both doors wide and stepped into the small room.
He held one hand out to her, inviting her to join him, and the other hand gestured in a broad sweep across the room. “Your wedding, Lady Harrington.”
Her hand flew to cover her mouth. She let out a gasp of surprise even as she reached out to clutch at Frederick’s outstretched hand. Her mind swirled. She gripped his fingers tightly, holding on to that single piece of firm, solid reality in this swirling world.
She stood at the entrance of a small chapel. The soft glow of flickering candles illuminated the aisle and the man standing at the altar. The pastor.
She turned her gaze on Frederick. “You arranged all this? For me?”
“For us. I don’t want to wait even one minute longer to marry you.”
She took one step closer to him, then another. Then, they were standing shoulder to shoulder. She stood there for a moment, not moving. She absorbed the perfection of the moment, overwhelmed by it all.
Frederick tilted his head close to hers and murmured in her ear. “Is this what you want?”
Her breath hitched in her throat. She couldn’t speak, so instead she gave a sharp, definitive nod.
He moved even closer, his voice even softer. “Then we should begin if we’re still going to keep to our schedule for tonight.”
She gave a soft gasp. “Our sch—”
She grabbed his hand, turned, and pulled him out the door and into the hallway. “Are you telling me we’re still doing a mission? All of this wasn’t a ruse simply to bring me here?”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “Truth has its price. I did promise not to lie to you.”
She shook her head in bemusement. “Well, if this isn’t proof of your commitment to honesty, I don’t know what is.” She looped her arm through his as she turned to face the chapel’s entrance. “Let’s get this over with. I’d hate to disrupt your plans.”
He pulled her to a stop before she could rush them down the aisle. “No hurry. We’re right on schedule.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “By my calculations, we only have about ten minutes to complete this wedding.”
He let out a sigh. “You never were good at studying my alternate plans.”
She frowned at him. “The ones we’re supposed to follow when things go wrong? You prepare so many of them, but we hardly ever use them.”
He grinned. “This time, everything went right. Even so, we’re using our alternative timetable tonight. That gives us a little over an hour before we need to slip away. Plenty of time to complete the ceremony and announce our marriage to everyone here at the embassy.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you had three alternative plans for this mission?”
He glanced down at the floor. “I also thought having so many alternates would dissuade you from wanting to study them. I must admit, though, I had to have a plan in place in case you decided not to marry me.”
She paused. “Four plans total?” She narrowed her eyes. “The one I already know about, right? A sort of a dummy plan that didn’t include anything personal. That means there must have been a second one where my answer on the dance floor was yes, and a third one where I said no, right?”
A voice emerged from within the chapel. “Mr. Woolsy? Are you still in need of my services?”
Josephine glanced at the pastor and then back at Frederick. “You mentioned you made three alternates to your original plan. Four in total. So what contingency did the forth one address?”
He swallowed. “This moment. It’s the one I’ll employ if my presumptuousness makes you change your answer. It’s a rehashing of the plan where you rejected me on the ballroom floor. Neither one was pleasant to contemplate. They both include drunkenness, a tavern brawl, and the possibility of spending some time in a jail cell.”
Behind his dry humor, she could see his love for her. It was right there in his eyes. Love, along with a bit of anxiety, as he waited for her decision.
Her heart swelled. She took a step forward, pulling him along with her. “Public drunkenness? You? Heaven forbid.” She began walking down the aisle.
He fell in step beside her, his hand tightening around hers. “My future is in your hands. Do you know the power you hold over me?”
“The same power you hold over me.”
And they walked into their future, together.
§§§
Afterword
Thank you for reading My Lady, My Spy.
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Would you like to read other books in my Secrets and Seduction series?
Book 1 - It Takes a S
py… is here (Devin and Cecilia’s story)
Book 2 - Lady Catherine’s Secret is here (Daniel and Catherine’s story)
Book 3 - Once Upon a Spy is here (Robert and Antonia’s story)
Book 4 - My Lady, My Spy (this book) (Frederick and Josephine’s story)
Book 5 - Along Came a Spy (coming soon!) (Elizabeth’s story)
You can find my standalone novel Gambling on a Scoundrel here (Lucien and Tempy’s story). Tempy, a journalist working for Charles Dickens, meets Lucien, the owner of a gambling house. Lucien’s life is about to be upended by his unexpected inheritance of an earldom. It’s a fact he’d rather not have announced, and certainly not in newsprint, until after the sale of his casino.
Note: This book is not part of the Secrets and Seduction series.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sheridan Jeane grew up in Huber Heights, a suburb of Dayton, Ohio, and now lives just outside of Pittsburgh.
Sheridan has always been an avid reader and a dedicated writer. She earned a bachelor's degree in computer science with a minor in English.
She's thrilled to have the opportunity to share her stories with her readers. Visit her website at SheridanJeane.com.
CHAPTER NINE
“That went well,” Lord Cary said as they began to descend the staircase in the Foreign Office.
“You think so?” Frederick shot him a hopeful look. He’d thought the same thing, but it was good to hear confirmation. “General Ratliff seemed more interested in the play he saw last night than in anything I had to say.”
“Definitely.” Lord Cary clapped him on the back as they clattered down the stairs on their way toward the main entrance. “Ratliff is always thinking about twenty things at once. The fact that he wasn’t overly concerned with your credentials meant he was already familiar with them. With luck, you’re well on the way to becoming the new spymaster.”
“Now all I need to do is recover that church register.” As he left the building, he tossed a casual wave over his shoulder to Lord Cary and immediately turned his attention to that troublesome task. It was still on his mind as he entered Woolsy House a short time later.
He immediately noticed something was different. The scent and sight of that difference struck him the moment he walked through the door. A large arrangement of flowers sat on the round table in the foyer. They might have a small flower conservatory here at Woolsy House, but neither he nor his brother or sister had bothered with this sort of display since their mother’s death. It had been her domain.
Had his sister decided to try her hand at it? If so, she’d improved dramatically since her last attempt. The arrangement was stunning.
He pondered the mystery as he climbed the stairs toward his bedroom. Voices intruded. Robert’s and— a stranger’s. A woman’s. Perhaps a new maid?
At the top of the stairs, he turned to find Robert and a young woman he didn’t recognize standing outside his sister’s bedroom.
Frederick narrowed his eyes. The pair gave the distinct impression he’d interrupted a tender moment. He could swear they were about to kiss.
There was something about the woman— something not quite right. In fact, if he wasn’t mistaken, she was wearing one of his sister’s dresses. “Well, isn’t this a pretty scene?” he asked.
Robert jumped away from the girl as though he’d been scalded.
Frederick examined her closely. He and his brother traveled in the same social circles and knew the same people, yet he didn’t know her. It was beyond coincidence that this particular stranger happened to match the description of the woman who’d stolen the church register from him at the Koliada Ball.
She had to be the thief.
“Frederick.” Robert took a step toward him. “It’s good to see you. I hope your meeting went well.”
Frederick kept his gaze trained on the woman, and this seemed to make his brother nervous.
“This is our guest, Miss Antonia Winter.” He glanced down at the woman. “Miss Winter, I’d like you to meet my brother, Mr. Woolsy.”
Frederick examined her as she dropped into a graceful curtsy.
“She’ll be staying with us for a few days, along with Lord and Lady Huntley. Lady Huntley has kindly consented to serve as chaperone.”
My, but his brother had been busy. Was it possible he could have tracked down the thief, moved her into their home, and brought in a chaperone in such short a span of time? Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe this wasn’t the thief.
He’d need to find out more about this woman. “Miss Winter? Now, where have I heard that name before?” Images flashed through his mind. Snatches of conversation. General Ratliff’s ramblings. And then— “Ah, yes. Now I remember. You’re the actress I’ve heard so much about.”
“Am I?” she asked, startled but not embarrassed. “I hope it was nothing bad.”
“Not at all,” he said, trying to dredge up bits of what the general had said about her. “I hear you gave an outstanding performance in Anne Blake last night.” He smiled at her, trying to get her to lower her guard. “Do we have you to thank for that stunning flower arrangement in the foyer?”
She blushed as she nodded, and Frederick relaxed. She’d be easy enough to question.
“Perhaps we should retire to the morning room,” Robert said. “I only just arrived home, and I still need to speak to Landon to ensure rooms will be ready for our guests.”
Perfect. Frederick grinned as he stepped forward and offered Miss Winter his arm. “Take your time. I’ll keep Miss Winter occupied while you sort out the details.”
When Robert’s expression turned into a glower, Frederick’s grin deepened. This woman was the thief. He was certain of it. But what game was his brother playing?
As he escorted Miss Winter down the staircase, he said, “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but your hair is a most unusual shade. It reminds me of a sunset on an overcast day.” He shot his brother a smirk.
§
Even now, Frederick’s head swirled from his brother’s revelations. Not only was Miss Winter the thief, just as he’d suspected, but she was also the granddaughter of a famous Russian artist. A painter. And she was now living in their house because the Russians had tried to kidnap her.
Apparently she wasn’t “too important” to the Russians anymore. Not when they believed she had the church register.
How he’d allowed himself to become complicit in this mess, he’d never understand.
Or perhaps he did. He’d seen the way Robert looked at Antonia Winter. He was besotted.
Pathetic man.
Almost as pathetic as he was.
Frederick shook his head, still surprised he’d allowed himself to become enmeshed in this bizarre and untenable situation. But he’d had a strong motivation.
The book.
He’d been shocked when Antonia had agreed to help them. Apparently, she’d had no idea Queen Victoria hoped to use the book to avert a war. She’d stolen it because it held information concerning her family. She promised to turn it over to Frederick in exchange for being permitted to use it as evidence in a court case.
True to her word, she’d already retrieved the book. Now it was time for Frederick to follow through on his part of the bargain. The sooner Antonia stood before a judge, the sooner Frederick could give the church register to the Queen.
Frederick would have been willing to walk through fire to retrieve that book— he smirked at the thought as he flexed his hand. He certainly had been burned for it. And now the book was here, in the house. Fortunately, Antonia seemed to be a woman on the side of the angels. He could see why his brother was smitten w
ith her.
Her barrister should be arriving later today. A Mr. Devin Montlake from Maidenhead. Yet one more house guest. Woolsy House was becoming quite the bohemian gathering spot. An actress, a barrister, a marquess, and a marchioness. Who would appear next?
Perhaps a countess.
He glanced at the clock on the mantel in the drawing room. Josephine had said she’d come by today with more supplies for his poultice. With luck, the diversion he and Daniel had planned wouldn’t take too long. He should be back in plenty of time to see her.
Of course, with so many people in the house now, it was unlikely he’d have a moment alone with her. Even so, perhaps she’d come while the others were out.
He could hope.
Frederick was ready to put the plan into motion. He strode back into the foyer just as Daniel, the Marquess of Huntley, trotted down the main staircase, his broad grin in evidence.
Daniel and his wife would act as chaperones while Miss Winter remained in residence. The couple was approaching the situation as a pleasant diversion. An exciting adventure. He wasn’t surprised by their attitudes. Not from such a bold and audacious pair.
Frederick nodded at Daniel. “Are you ready?”
“And looking forward to it.” The man bounced once on his toes and then shot Frederick a broad grin. He’d changed in the past year. He was much happier and more relaxed these days. Marriage must agree with him.
Frederick ducked into the adjoining drawing room to peer out the window. He avoided touching the chocolate-brown curtains— he didn’t want the men outside to notice them move and realize he was watching them as well. “They’re still there,” Frederick said as he returned to the foyer. “Five of them.”
“With luck, they’ll divide themselves evenly between us.” Daniel shrugged into a heavy coat.
“Five doesn’t divide evenly. Aren’t you supposed to be good with numbers?”
My Lady, My Spy (Secrets and Seduction Book 4) Page 17
