My Gentleman Spy (The Duke of Strathmore Book 5)

by Sasha Cottman

  Hattie knew enough about Vauxhall to know that there were other paths that lovers could take which took them off the main walk. Those paths were not well lit and all manner of scandalous behavior was known to take place in the bushes which were dotted along them.

  “So, Hattie, where did you first meet Will?” asked Caroline.

  Will came and sat beside Hattie.

  “At St. Paul’s, she was there with her brother,” he said.

  Hattie took another sip of her champagne, as she quietly absorbed Will’s lie of how they had met.

  It was quite some time before Eve and Freddie finally returned to the group. As they approached, Hattie caught the look of frustrated anger that Francis and Will exchanged.

  “We got lost, must have taken a wrong turn,” explained Freddie, unconvincingly.

  Releasing Eve’s hand, he stepped away. A grinning Eve came and sat next to Hattie and Caroline.

  The look Will gave Freddie would have melted the sun, but he said nothing. Freddie was no doubt relying on the fact that they were in the company of others to save his skin.

  At some point before the evening was over, she suspected Freddie and Will would be having a private, but unpleasant conversation.

  “You need to be more careful,” whispered Caroline.

  Caroline pulled a leaf off the back of her sister’s cloak, and another one from out of her hair. She flicked the leaf away, but not before Hattie and Eve had both caught sight of it.

  “Oh,” Eve murmured, blushing.

  Caroline made a quick, but not too obvious inspection of the rest of Eve's hair and clothing. Whatever had taken place between Eve and Freddie during their walk, it was clear things were progressing toward an inevitable wedding.

  Hattie was surprised at her own reaction to Eve's indiscretion. The Hattie of a few months ago would have frowned upon such behavior. She would have viewed Eve as a lush to permit a young man such liberties with her person.

  Now that she knew the raw pleasure that came from being with a man she viewed things very differently. The heat which flared within her body, revealed her own longing to be touched and possessed.

  She chanced a look at Will. He had quietly retracted his claws, returning to the well contained persona he had adopted for the night.

  Disappointment flared. There would be no chance of Will dragging her off into the bushes to take liberties with her body. She stifled a snort. Where had that wicked notion come from?

  From knowing that you want him.

  And there it was. The indisputable fact that she did want Will. That she ached for him to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. Whatever liberties he demanded of her, she would willingly give.

  This was another of those moments when she wished they were back on the ship and lying naked in one another’s arms. Things were simpler then. She knew exactly what she wanted. A brief affair and no ties.

  He turned and gave her a smile. It was as if he could read her mind. She smiled back, helpless to resist the lure of his charm.

  Ending things with him would shatter her heart into a thousand pieces.

  The mood of the party was strained. Eve and Freddie had selfishly put everyone in an uncomfortable position. If Will had called a halt to the evening at that moment Hattie would not have been the least bit surprised.

  Francis to his credit had also read the mood. He clapped his hands loudly together and announced. “Righto, time for some dancing. I am not leaving until my feet hurt. Come on Caro you shall be my partner.”

  Caroline wasted no time in getting to her feet and taking her brother’s arm. They headed out toward a nearby space in which a small orchestra was playing. Eve and Freddie followed quickly behind.

  Hattie and Will were left alone in the box, the first time they had been alone in over a week.

  “Shall we?”

  Will offered Hattie his hand. She took it, feeling a tremble throughout her body, as he closed his strong fingers about hers. As he pulled her to her feet, Will slipped his hand around her waist and drew her close.

  “Unfortunately, the only movement you and I can do together tonight is that of the socially acceptable type. I just wish we could be somewhere that would allow us to indulge in the dancing we shared on the boat. Of course, if we were married, that would be easily accomplished at the end of this evening.”

  Will was keen to press his need for them to marry. She was dreading the moment he asked for permission to speak to Edgar.

  “Let’s not. It has been a long time since I danced. The last time was after I had been presented to the Queen. That was over two years ago. Even then my dancing was adequate at best,” she replied.

  If Will was disappointed with her reply, he hid it well.

  “Well then, how about we take a short stroll instead and see what other entertainment is at hand?”

  “But what about the others?” she replied.

  “They have made it abundantly clear that they are old enough to take care of themselves. They do not need me to shadow their every move. Besides I am here tonight for you.”

  The crowds in the gardens had built to a peak. There were hundreds of people all pushing and jostling to find the best places to watch the entertainment.

  Towing Hattie behind him, Will weaved his way through the throng. She held on tight as he cleared a path for them.

  Eventually they managed to find an area where the crowd thinned and they could stroll together. A line of small booths selling trinkets was set up along the side of the path. They walked slowly, hand in hand, along the line of booths content just to be in one another’s company.

  At one booth Will bought Hattie a small silver pin adorned with a lion’s head. She happily pinned it to the bodice of her gown.

  When Hattie yawned a short while later, Will took his cue and led her back to where they had left the rest of the group. They found Eve seated on a chair her head in her hands, while the others milled around.

  “I think the champagne has caught up with her, so it might be time for us to take our leave,” announced Francis.

  Caroline helped her sister to her feet and the group slowly made its way to the main gate. Hattie walked alongside Will, lost in her own thoughts.

  Outside the gate to Vauxhall, beggars crowded the path. The rest of the group ignored the outstretched hands, beggars were aplenty in this part of London. Hattie saw a young woman standing to one side under a tree holding a small child in her arms.

  She stepped away from the group and went to the woman’s side. Other beggars followed and soon she was surrounded. She looked back over her shoulder briefly, but Will and the others were lost from sight. She opened her reticule and pulled out a handful of coins, handing them to the woman.

  “May you be blessed,” said the woman.

  As Hattie leaned in to offer the woman some words of comfort, the child made a grab for Hattie’s lion pin. At the pull on her gown, Hattie moved forward to save the pin from being torn through the fabric.

  A concerned Will forced his way into the group.

  “Hattie!” he bellowed.

  People scattered at the sound of his voice. In the ensuing scramble, someone pushed against Hattie’s back and she fell hard into the woman and child. All three of them tumbled to the ground. The child screamed in pain as her small fingers caught the sharp edge of Hattie’s lion pin.

  Will came over and helped Hattie to her feet. Picking up the child he handed her to her mother. The woman took one look at Will in his fine evening clothes and quickly fled.

  He attempted to put a comforting arm around Hattie, but she angrily pushed him away.

  “Why did you do that?” she said.

  She watched as the group of beggars disappeared into the London night. In her reticule sat the rest of the coins she had intended to give to them. Finally, she turned to Will.

  “Please take me home.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The journey home in the carriage was a long silent one. In th
e corner Hattie sat and stared at the lion pin which she now held in her hand. She was angry enough with Will for having made a mess of things with the beggars, but she reserved the center of her rage for herself.

  When the carriage stopped at her brother’s house, she did not wait for Will or Francis to help her down. As soon as the footman opened the door, she rose from her seat, gave a perfunctory good night, and climbed out. She went inside Edgar’s house without looking back.

  Knowing Miranda would want to know how her evening had gone, Hattie waited inside the front door until the Saunders’ family carriage had gone. She then walked the short distance back to her old home and took a seat in the back garden.

  A short while later Will appeared from out of the house, carrying a lantern.

  “Mrs. Little said you were sitting out here, mind if I join you?”

  She got to her feet.

  “I’m sorry, old habits die hard. This was always the place I came as a child when I was out of sorts. Forgive me if I forget that this is no longer my home,” she replied.

  She began to walk toward the garden gate. Will took hold of the edge of her cloak, and pulled her back to him.

  “But it could be your home. It should be your home. You just have to say that you want it to be. I can speak to Edgar tonight?”

  Tears threatened, but Hattie knew she had to hold herself together this time. To make Will understand.

  “I cannot marry you Will. I have had my doubts all along, but tonight the truth was made clear to me.”

  He sighed.

  “I’m sorry if you think I was a little heavy handed with the way I went about rescuing you from that group of beggars. But, you should not have wandered over to them on your own. It was a rash thing that you did. You were without my protection, anything could have happened to you.”

  In the dark moonlit garden, Hattie found it hard to read Will’s expression, but she knew her own mind.

  “And therein lies the problem,” she replied.

  He searched her face, while she saw only confusion and hurt written upon his own.

  “I give up, I can't fathom you. Am I not allowed to give a damn about your safety? Tell me Hattie. Make me understand,” he pleaded.

  For a moment she was at a loss as to what to say. But Will was right, she had to make him understand. She pressed on.

  “The first time we met I was trying to escape a life where my husband would control my entire existence. My heart tells me that if I married you it would be the same. The second I accept your proposal you will be telling me what to do. And just as importantly what not to do. Which is exactly what you attempted to do tonight. You barreled into that group of people without a thought for them. You were single minded in your need to drag me away and back into your world,” she said.

  The spark of bravery she had felt that sunny morning off the coast of Spain reignited within. With her back straight, she raised her head and met Will's piercing gaze full on.

  “So, you are saying I am a controlling male?” he ground out.

  As a huff of disgust escaped her lips, she saw anger flash in his eyes.

  “Yes. You are a gentleman of a certain class and I am yet to meet one of you who does not think women exist to do your bidding. You cannot stand me attending to my mission. Will, you don’t seem to want to understand that the poor and destitute of London are my life’s work. I have walked into crowds of beggars many times before, each time bringing them a little hope. Tonight however, was the first time I have brought fear and pain. Fear and pain that came because of you.”

  Hattie swallowed her own lump of fear.

  “I’m sorry. I lost sight of you and I panicked. I worry about your safety and wellbeing Hattie, that is all. And yes, when we do marry I expect you to listen to me when it comes to your safety. You clearly don’t see danger when it is in front of you,” replied Will.

  “I don’t understand this overwhelming need to protect me. I’ve been working my mission for a long time. Longer than I have known you. And yes, sometimes things do go awry, but that is the risk that comes with my work. I understand that and I accept it.”

  Will raked his fingers through his hair, and sighed. He held out his hand to her.

  “Hattie, please come inside the house. I think it is time that I told you the truth of Yvette’s death,” he said.

  Hattie followed Will inside and into her father’s old sitting room. Will poured them both a brandy. He took a seat in the chair opposite to her and sat silent for a time.

  “For many reasons, some of them being a matter of national security, I cannot tell you the whole story. When we marry, you will have to accept that there are some things of my time away from England, that I can never share with you,” he said.

  Hattie ignored his stubborn statement about their future marriage. There was not point starting that argument again. If they could not get past their differences, no matter what Will demanded, there would be no wedding.

  “During the war, I was a spy for the British government. I spent three years living undercover in Paris working to help bring Napoleon down. After the mess he made attempting to invade Russia, the British government and its allies were hopeful that his powerbase was weak enough for an attempt to topple him. I volunteered to go to France.”

  Hattie sat and stared at her brandy glass. She had never fully believed the story that he was in the import trade, it didn’t match what she did know of him to be true.

  His having been a spy made far more sense. His need to constantly check and double check details. His need to sit facing the door. His need for control.

  “Yvette was a French agent, part of an undercover team working with a number of foreign governments, including Britain to bring Napoleon down. I met her not long after I arrived in France. Being married was a good cover for us. Eventually our marriage of convenience, became a real one. We fell in love.”

  His gaze remained fixed on the carpet. A deep line was etched in his brow. Hattie wondered if Will had ever had this conversation with anyone else.

  “Being a spy is a dangerous game. One false move and you can find yourself on the wrong end of a blade. Yvette went out on her own to meet with an informant. It turned out that the informant was actually one of Napoleon’s agents and he murdered her.”

  Will screwed his eyes shut as tears began to roll slowly down his cheeks. Hattie remained in the chair, instinct telling her that pity was the last thing he needed at this moment. She ached to reach out and hold him.

  He wiped the tears away. “She was so much like you, at times it takes my breath away. You talk of knowing the streets of London, well Yvette knew the lanes and rooftops of Paris. She was fearless, as are you. I have never doubted your bravery Hattie. But there is one thing you do have in common with her that scares the life out of me. You don’t sense danger until it is too late.”

  Hattie could not argue with Will on that point. She had done some foolish things and barely gotten away with them. The beating she had received at the hands of the Belton Street gang had been a lesson painfully learned.

  “But, I am not her. You cannot compare us on such a simplistic level. She was a spy, that comes with an entirely different set of risks from that of working with the poor in the rookery.”

  “Yet, if I ordered you not to go to Plumtree Lane, you would still go, wouldn’t you?” he replied.

  A creeping worry entered Hattie’s mind. Did Will somehow blame himself for Yvette’s death; and was this where his need to dictate the terms of their relationship stemmed from? She sensed they were close to the truth. She decided to gamble on asking the right but fearful question.

  “Where were you when Yvette died?” she asked.

  It was cruel and the second she uttered the words Hattie wished them away, but she knew if they did not address the issue of Yvette’s death, they would never get passed it. The poor girl who had suffered such a terrible and premature death would forever stand between them.

  She felt nothing b
ut utter sadness and grief for the young woman she would never know, yet somewhere deep in her heart she would always have a place for Yvette. They shared a bond which no one else could.

  They both loved Will.

  He put a hand over his face and went silent for a long time. Hattie sat with her hands softly in her lap, rolling her two thumbs in a circle over and over.

  Will finally got to his feet.

  “Are there events in your life that you wish you could go back and relive? Moments that at the time you did not understand their impending significance, but which changed your life forever.

  I have relived that day in my mind a thousand times. How different our lives would have been if she had followed orders. If instead of getting drunk and passing out in some tavern miles from Paris, I had listened to my instincts and gone home to make sure she bloody well did as I had told her. But by the time I sensed that something terrible was about to happen, it was too late to save her. She was already dead by the time I got back to Paris.”

  Hattie swallowed back tears. Her worst suspicions were now confirmed. Will did blame himself for Yvette’s death. The guilt he carried, clouded his every thought of Hattie.

  She had to make him see that loving someone meant accepting them for their faults and mistakes. It also meant allowing them to make their own choices, even if he did not agree with them.

  As she rose from the chair, their gazes met. She held firm as Will searched her face, his look of pleading was heartbreaking.

  “Thank you. I cannot imagine how hard it must be for you to finally confide in me. To share the truth. Now that I know what really happened to Yvette, I have a clearer understanding of your motives regarding myself. In a way, I also feel that I know her a little better now. Her mission to save her country meant a great deal to her, as does my work with the poor.”

  She reached up on her toes and kissed him. When Will attempted to deepen the kiss, Hattie pulled away.

  “What needs to happen now Will, is for you to make a choice. You must decide if you can live with a wife who is exposed to danger as part of her work. I love you Will, I do with all my heart. But not even for you, will I give up my life’s calling.”