"Mr. Emerson, one of the footmen has fallen."
Emerson shrugged his shoulders and pointed down the hall to the back door. "Do you think you can manage to show yourself out?"
"Yes, I think I can. I've been in a lot worse places I had to let meself out of." The man smiled. A look that showed his blackened teeth. Yes, Augusta was sure he'd been in many a bad place. Which brought her back to her worry about Lance.
The butler and housekeeper left to check on the footman. Augusta followed the man. "May I ask you a question?"
He turned back to her. "Me? You talkin' to me, milady?"
"I am. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with William and Ambrose."
"You mean you was eavesdroppin'."
"Call it what you will, I need to know exactly what is going on with Lancelot."
"You sweet on him or sumptin?"
"Or something." Augusta smiled. Let him think what he wanted. She didn't care so long as he gave her the required information.
"He's been wounded. He asked me to get his family to come. Them two in there don't seem to care. Makes me wonder if'n he's even their brother."
"I can assure you they have a brother named Lancelot Covington but they're both very aware of their duties here at the estate. I'm sure they would want proof the man you say is injured is actually their relative before they dash out into the night to accompany you."
"He is." The man reached into his pocket.
Augusta's stomach fell and she took a step back. What if he had a weapon? She was unarmed at the moment.
She took a deep breath when he pulled out a dirty handkerchief and held it out to her.
Reaching for it, Augusta immediately recognized the embroidery. She'd done it herself. It had a small red border around the edges. "Where is he?"
"The local inn."
"I will send someone. Immediately."
"You will? I see the man has a sweetheart who cares more for him than his own family."
Not caring who she thought he was, Augusta said, "Someone will arrive within the hour. Please let him know." She waved her hand. "Go on. He's probably anxious."
"I will ride like the wind to bring him news of his lady love and her devotion to his well-being." With that the man was down the corridor and out of the house as if he'd never been there.
Augusta turned on her heel, determined to find her friend, Cassandra, to cover for her at the dinner while she went to fetch her wounded brother. Who would probably be wondering exactly who his purported lover was since the last time he was home, he'd proposed to a young lady who turned him down.
IN HER ROOM, AUGUSTA pulled the cast-off pair of breeches from the back of her wardrobe. She'd made herself a hidden panel a long time ago to stash the things she didn't want her maid to find. In there were many items that might come in useful someday.
As Augusta was tugging on the breeches, a hesitant tap on the door alerted her to the presence of Cassandra. Her friend was always nervous for some reason Augusta could never fathom. It wasn't like she ever asked the girl to do anything illegal or dangerous. Well, maybe once in a while it was bordering on perilous but she'd never actually been harmed.
"Come in."
The door opened. Cassandra peeked in with only her head inside the room. "What are you scheming now?"
"Come in. Come in before someone sees you."
Cassandra stepped inside and as soon as she crossed the room to where Augusta sat on the bed, she obviously took in her friend's attire. Eyes wide, Cassandra said, "Oh no. I won't be a part of whatever you're planning to do. Those must be Ambrose's breeches. Surely you aren't coming down to William's dinner party dressed in those."
"Of course not. Do you think me a ninny?"
"I don't think you want me to answer that right at this moment."
Augusta looked up sharply. "If I had the time, I would be mad at you over that statement but I can't waste valuable minutes arguing." Augusta moved to her dressing table and quickly braided her hair, pinned it up and tugged on a cap.
"I may regret this but I have to ask. What are you doing?"
"Lance is back from France."
That's nice. It'll be good to see him."
"He's not here. He's apparently wounded and could only make it as far as the inn. He sent a man to ask William and Ambrose for help but they turned him down until after the dinner party. I'm going after him myself--"
"You can't do that." Cassandra gasped. "It's too dangerous. It's dark and scary out there."
"Nonsense. I sneak out all the time and ride at night. You know it's the only time I can go astride the way I love to. The groomsman won't even question me taking my horse. All I need from you is to cover for me."
"Cover how?"
"Tell my brothers I sent for you. That I don't feel well."
"What if they don't believe me? You know I don't lie well."
"Tell them it's a female issue. It will make them less curious."
"I will say no such thing." Cassandra crossed her arms and huffed her displeasure at this suggestion.
"All right then." Augusta shrugged. "Tell them anything you want. Besides the truth, that is."
"You're impossible."
"I know. It's because I'm a motherless heathen. Raised in the wild by three brothers and an absentee father. Is it any wonder I'm incorrigible?"
"You delight in that description, don't you?"
"Not really but what better person to quote than Amelia Stewart of Almack's? Isn't that what she said to your mother about me?"
"I wish I'd never told you that. You're going to get thrown out of polite society someday and we won't be able to be friends anymore."
"And you have to admit, you'll miss me, right?" Augusta rose and hugged her friend. "I would promise not to put you in this position ever again but we both know I can't keep that vow, right?"
"We do." Cassandra let out a deep sigh of resignation and with shoulders slumped, moved toward the door. "I'll tell them you're ill but that's all I'm saying."
"Thank you. I'll be back soon."
As Cassandra walked out, over her shoulder she said, "You might want to take the cart. You know, in case Lancelot is so injured he can't ride a horse."
"That's a good suggestion. See? I need you to help me always."
Cassandra turned and left. Augusta was sure she heard a very unladylike snort come from her. Her friend's comment about the extent of Lance's injuries caused Augusta some concern and made her even more in a rush to get out of the house and to the stables.
She peered out her bedroom door to make sure the hallway was empty. Luckily, it was, but she wasn't sure how much time she'd have to get to the back stairs since some of the guests were probably still in their rooms dressing. Taking a chance, she dashed toward the servant's exit from her floor and opened that door.
Seeing no one on the steps, Augusta took a moment to catch her breath. She leaned against the cool paneling and exhaled before she girded herself for further action.
When she was quite ready, she ducked her head and made a mad dash for the bottom of the staircase and the outside door to the yard to make her way to the stables. She'd done this many times but not like this, with a brother hurt and a house full of company. The adrenaline surged through her veins and not for the first time in her life, she wished she were a man. They got to have all the fun and adventures and young ladies were supposed to be satisfied with embroidery and gossip. But not her.
Augusta preferred horse races, card games and quoits. She was sure her brothers were to blame for that but they always seemed to think she could behave better. Except Lance. Her middle brother understood her. And she was going to see that he was well cared for.
Making her way across the yard to the stables at a brisk pace, Augusta skidded to a stop just inside the double doors and waited in the shadows with bated breath as the head groom spoke to one of her brother's friends. The man was instructing the groom about the care of his horses as if the groom had never se
en a horse before. It was taking forever and it was all she could do not to stomp her foot in impatience.
Finally, the man made to return to the house. Augusta was sure he'd been let off at the front door but had to come around to the stables to waste everyone's time.
"Milady, are you planning to ride tonight? I haven't saddled Socrates since I didn't get a note asking for him."
"I need to go to the inn. Lancelot is there and wounded. Can you follow me with the cart?"
"I need to take care of my duties here, milady."
"Once everything settles down, you'll have a couple of hours before the people who aren't staying overnight need their carriages. Would you come then with another groomsman? I'll give you some coins if you can find a way to get away and come."
"I'll do my best." He pulled on his cap, looked at the ground and scuffed at the dirt floor with the toe of his boot.
"That's all I can ask. Now, will you prepare Socrates for me?"
"Right away." The man bustled off to get Augusta's mount.
Once Socrates was saddled, the groomsman assisted her to her seat. Leaning over, she smiled down at him. "Make sure you come as soon as you can. I'll arrange for some blankets at the inn. We'll be waiting for you."
"Thank you, milady."
Augusta rode off into the dark, unafraid other than about the condition of her brother.
Since Socrates was a swift steed, she arrived at the inn promptly. Dismounting in the yard, she tossed her reins to a waiting boy and, disguising her voice to sound like a young man, said, "I'll be down later to get him. Just water him for now."
Moving around to the side of the building, Augusta wondered the best way to find where Lance actually was. She didn't really want to approach the innkeeper as he might recognize her even in her disguise. Sneaking up the stairs wouldn't be an issue since she knew where they were. She recalled how dark and unlit they were from her one trip up there when she accompanied William to visit a friend who was passing through but didn't want to come to the house to see their father.
Having no idea what room Lance may be in, she'd have to peer into each one and hope for the best. Or that she didn't interrupt something she'd prefer not to see or hear.
As soon as she decided to slip inside and take a chance on the staircase, things got darker behind her. She turned to see what made the lights dim and almost let out a scream. A man—at least she thought it was a man—in a black cape held open like some bird with its wings unfurled loomed over her.
He grabbed her, muffling her squeal and before she knew it, he'd flung her over his shoulder.
Milady and Her Spy: Chapter Two
HEART POUNDING, WONDERING WHAT TO DO and not sure if she could get away from the man in the narrow corridor, Augusta tried to stay perfectly still while the enormous person carried her as if she were no larger than a mouse. Dear Lord, how would she escape? Terrified but still determined to save Lance, she forced herself not to kick out at him until she was in a place she could maneuver better. She willed her limbs to stop shaking but they wouldn't listen. Positive the man could feel her quaking, Augusta gritted her teeth in an attempt to gain control of herself.
Opening a door—she could tell by the way it creaked even though she couldn't see it—they entered a warm room. It seemed as if the fire had been poked up to the level it would be in the deepest of winter when it was actually a warm June evening.
She was unceremoniously dumped on her feet in front of that fire. Whirling around to take in her surroundings, she found herself face-to-face with her brother Lancelot. He sat in a chair by the window with his booted feet propped up on a small footstool and gaped at her with either chagrin or frustration, she wasn't sure which.
The first to find his voice, Lance said, "What in tarnation are you doing here, Gus?"
"You know this boy?" the person in the black cape asked, taking down the hood covering his head. "I caught him lurking outside as if he were going to come in and seek out trouble. I was concerned he was sent by our quarry to smoke us out."
"Not Gus. This boy is well-known to me and has no nefarious aims." Lance quirked an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"
"You sent someone to the house to seek aid. The man said you were injured." Augusta looked her sibling up and down. Still upset over being scared on the stairs, she caught herself almost forgetting to lower her voice an octave or two to keep up the pretense of being male. Of course, Lance knew she wasn't a man but this friend of his did not. "You seem perfectly fine to me."
"Are you going to let this young man speak to you in that insolent manner? Should I have him caned?"
"Caned? Me?" Augusta whirled on the man. Her voice squeaked on the last word.
The man quirked a brow at her. Did he catch that she didn't sound masculine?
"Settle down, Gus. I won't let him hurt you."
"I'm not worried about him. You need to be more concerned about what I'm going to do to you. I dashed over here to come to your rescue because your own two brothers wouldn't leave their dinner party."
"And I know they didn't send you out in the night on an errand of mercy. In fact, I'd wager they have no idea where you are." Lance sat for a moment. "Let me think. I bet they're under the impression you're ill in your bed. Am I right?"
"Why did you make up such a story? You're absolutely fine. You could walk into the house at any time yet you stop here at the inn and send a message that you cannot make it to the manor. What game are you playing?"
"Never mind, Gus. I'll find someone to accompany you home."
"Oh no, you will not. I'm not moving one inch." She crossed her arms and stood stiff in front of the fire.
"I have no idea what is going on but you need to get this child out of here so we can move forward with our plans. Since your brothers refuse to come, we need to formulate some other way to accomplish our goals. We have no time to dally in some argument with this person." The man in the cape removed the garment and tossed it on the bed.
He was too arrogant for words. Augusta wanted to flay both him and Lance. Here she'd been so worried about her brother and he was sitting here as if he were at some card game wagering on who would draw the ace first.
Augusta growled and lunged for Lance. The nerve of him to pretend to be ill and have her hie out here to save his wretched neck.
The man in black threw his hand out and grabbed her by the throat.
"Let her go," Lance called out as he stood.
Augusta's cap fell off at the same time the man said, "Her?"
The pins came out of her braids and her blonde hair fell past her waist.
"Gus?" the man shook his head. "Your name is Gus?"
"Augusta Covington, to be exact," Lance said. "May I present my sister?" He turned to face Augusta. "This is my friend, Myles Cuthbert."
"Are all your friends as rude as this one?" Augusta asked.
"You're a fine one to talk. You didn't even say hello, which is quite unfriendly, you know." Myles bowed with what could only be called a disdainful manner. Never mind that he was supremely handsome with that dark hair falling over his brow, he was clearly not going to be amiable to her. No matter how tall and attractive he was, she was not going to let that affect her after the way he behaved.
"I tend not to be genial with people who manhandle me."
"May I offer my sincere apologies? I'm afraid I thought you were up to some evil deed when I captured you." The man's sardonic smile and sarcastic tone of voice belied the word sincere in his apology.
Augusta turned her back on him without responding. Hands on hips, she addressed her brother. "What is this all about? You've caused me a great deal of trouble here and I demand an explanation."
"You're not going to get one. He's not authorized to discuss this matter with you." The arrogant man in black answered instead of Lance.
She spun around and glared at him. "Who do you think you are to tell my brother what he can or cannot discuss with me?"
"His commanding officer
."
Her jaw dropped. "What do you mean by that? He's in civilian clothes and, I presume, on leave. Who brings their Army commander home with him and has to obey orders on his time off?"
"It seems your brother does." Cuthbert lifted one eyebrow.
"That makes no sense." Augusta looked at Lance. "What exactly is going on? Why not drive up to the front of the manor and come inside? What have you done that you can't come home and talk to your brothers like a normal man?"
"I haven't done anything illegal, little sister. Don't worry about that."
"Enough with delaying the inevitable. Send her on her way so we can get another plan together." Cuthbert paced in front of the fireplace.
"You mean enough with the evasiveness, I think, Mr. Cuthbert. Both Lance and I know that he's going to tell me everything. He's never been able to say no to me and I don't believe he will start now."
"Is she always so stubborn?"
"Only when she's awake." Lance grinned.
"So, I should wait to see her at her most charming when she's napping?"
"Probably. She's most amiable at that time."
"I am standing right here, you know." Augusta fought the urge to place her hands on her hips. He really was the most infuriating man.
"You're hard to miss. It's not every day a man meets a woman dressed in someone else's breeches with her hair tucked under a cap."
"No. I imagine your life is way too dull to have such fascinating things happen to you." Augusta stepped over to the bed and flopped down on it. "I'm comfortable and have all night since I sent word to William that I'm too ill to come down. Either tell me the plan that I've caused to go wrong and I'll find a way to make it work or devise a new one for you."
"What makes you think you can walk in here and solve all the problems of the world?" Cuthbert leaned one shoulder on the wall next to the fireplace. He crossed his right ankle over the left.
Once Upon a True Love's Kiss Page 31
