Undercover With the Earl

by Robyn DeHart

“Already have it out,” Bennett said. He wanted Potterfield to leave, to get the hell out of there, not merely because then he’d be alone with Evie, but because right now that was who Bennett blamed for the incident. “Had you not demanded we bring her to London for this charade, none of this would have happened.”

  “Not true. This would have happened to Her Majesty. Precisely where are your loyalties, Somersby?” Potterfield asked.

  Bennett swore under his breath.

  “And the people in the crowd who sneered at me,” Evie said. “Why? Why do people hate her so?”

  “Some don’t want her to be queen. They believe her too young, too inexperienced.” He smeared some salve on the cut, then proceeded to bandage her. “You were fortunate. I believe your corset saved you.”

  “Thankfully I was wearing one of Her Majesty’s corsets and not one of my own, as mine are far less sturdy than hers, the fabric much thinner.”

  “That should do it, but it will likely still pain you for the next few days. When we get to your room, I suggest you have a nice swallow of brandy to ease the pain.”

  “I shall endure.”

  Bennett pulled her dress back up over her corset. “We need to get you dressed and back into your rooms before rumors start that the queen has been abducted or killed.”

  She turned to face him, grabbed his hand. “Thank you for saving me.”

  He nodded but said nothing. He should be thankful that it had been Evelyn who had been injured and not the Queen, but he wasn’t. And therein lay the problem. What was so different about this woman that he’d allowed her to get to him? His sole purpose was to protect the monarch, whoever that might be. Yet, that was not what he thought of when he’d seen her go down on the platform. He’d jumped into action, but he’d been afraid for her. And that concerned him more than any potential threat to the Queen.

  Chapter Eight

  Bennett left Evelyn and immediately went back into the Brotherhood tunnels to discuss matters with Potterfield. He’d be damned if he’d allow Evie to continue to be placed in such danger. She had not signed up for that and she could have been killed today. This had quite obviously gone too far.

  It took him a while to locate them, but he found precisely who he’d been looking for. Potterfield sat in one of the rooms speaking with Adrian and Ellis.

  Potterfield looked up and saw him and nodded. “How is Miss Marrington fairing?”

  Ellis came to his feet, concern lining his features.

  Bennett ignored Evelyn’s cousin and did his best to reign in his anger as he faced Potterfield. “How is she fairing?” Bennett said through clenched teeth. He made his way over to the table and braced his hands on it, leaned forward. “Have you lost your senses? She is an innocent country miss and today she was attacked.” He pounded a fist on the table. “With a knife. She’s cut, bleeding, and we can only pray that infection and fever don’t set in.”

  “Did you clean the wound?” Adrian asked.

  Bennett glared at Adrian. “Of course I did. I’m not a damned idiot!”

  “There is no reason to lose your temper in here, Somersby. Sit down where we can discuss this as reasonable people,” Potterfield said.

  Bennett ignored his command and continued to stand.

  Ellis swore, sat back down. “I should never have suggested her.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” Bennett said. “I want her taken back home. Now. She’s done her part. Give her the money you owe her and then I will bring her home.”

  Potterfield shook his head. “We cannot do that yet.”

  “Why the hell not?” Bennett asked.

  “I heard from Lynford today. The Queen has not recovered from her previous injury. Her ankle has not healed and she’s hobbling around on it.” Potterfield eyed Bennett. “We cannot afford to send Miss Marrington home right now.”

  Bennett pushed his fingers through his hair and swore. “This has gotten out of control. She’s not trained for this sort of task.”

  “Then train her,” Potterfield said simply.

  “Must I remind you that we do not have women in the Brotherhood?” Why was he the only one concerned about Evelyn’s safety? Every member of the Brotherhood, at least those on the upper tier who did the actual protecting, would lay their life down for their monarch, but it was wrong for them to assume or expect that from the daughter of a baron.

  “True, but there have been women in every other agency that the government has used,” Potterfield said. “Our spies, our monarchs. Is she incapable in some way?”

  “No, she’s not incapable. But she is a woman,” Bennett said. Damnation! He didn’t know if he was angrier with himself that she’d gotten injured on his watch, or with Potterfield for putting this charade together.

  Ellis had started pacing. “We cannot get my cousin killed. My aunt would never forgive me.”

  “Then it is settled. You must train her,” Potterfield said. “Teach her whatever it is that you think she needs to know to survive.”

  “So, you are suggesting that I teach her hand-to-hand combat? And what is next? Shall I teach her how to fire a weapon? How to knock a man out with her parasol? How to gut a man with a dagger?”

  “If those are the skills you believe she needs, then yes. You certainly should. Are you not always reminding us that women are stronger than they look? That they’re as capable as men?”

  “Am I to do the same for Victoria when she returns?” Bennett said, ignoring Potterfield’s questions. Yes, he often told the men of the Brotherhood that they should not be so fooled into thinking that women were weak and helpless. Those affects were merely another way women manipulated men. “I believe I’ve suggested as much before.”

  Potterfield looked at the other men, then frowned. “So you have. It is definitely something we need to discuss. Historically, the Brotherhood has always trained the monarchs in some defense skills, but it was not even something we considered when Victoria was crowned.”

  “I believe someone said she was the pinnacle of genteel propriety and to teach her how to wield any weapon would be a disgrace,” Bennett said.

  “She is a lady, but also our monarch. If our law allows women to be the monarch, then our practices should be the same regardless of king or queen,” Potterfield said. “Beginning tomorrow, you teach Miss Marrington whatever you think she needs.”

  Potterfield never took Bennett’s suggestions. It seemed ridiculous that this was the one that would finally move forward. “What she needs is to be safely back at home.”

  Potterfield leveled his gaze on Bennett. “If you are unwilling to do this, Somersby, I am certain that I can find someone who is.”

  “I shall do it,” Adrian said, coming to his feet.

  Potterfield held his hand out, indicating he was quite ready to hand Evie over to someone else.

  On one hand, Bennett would like to pass off the duties to show that he didn’t agree with this situation, but he knew that if he walked away now, he might as well keep walking because his time with the Brotherhood would be over. Not only that, he wasn’t certain he trusted anyone else to ensure Evie’s safety, especially Adrian. He was a notorious rake.

  “You are practically suggesting I make her a full member of the Brotherhood.” Bennett raked his fingers through his hair. “How can you be so flippant about this? It is her life we are talking about, her safety.”

  “Gentlemen,” Potterfield said, directing his attention to Ellis and Adrian. “I should like a moment alone with Lord Somersby, please.”

  The other two men stood and left the room, their steps echoed down the stone tunnel.

  “Our allegiance, in case you have forgotten, is to the crown, and right now that is Her Majesty, Queen Victoria,” Potterfield said. “This girl is nothing more than a servant doing a task. She is disposable, if necessary.”

  Bennett wanted to hit him, but he held his temper in check.

  “She could have been killed.”

  “Better her than the queen,” P
otterfield said plainly.

  He should agree, he knew he should, but damned if that felt wrong. When he’d seen Evie go down beneath that man, he’d been ready to rip the man from limb to limb to protect her. Would he feel the same had it been Victoria on that platform? Certainly he would.

  The man’s brows rose slowly. “If you have developed some sort of attachment to the girl—”

  “No, I have not. She is an assignment.” But even as he said the words, doubt gnawed at him. “She is a civilian, Potterfield. Can we ask her to make the ultimate sacrifice?”

  “Did you not tell her there were risks to this assignment?”

  Had he? He couldn’t remember. He’d been so angry about being forced to work with her, he likely hadn’t properly prepared her.

  “Sit down,” Potterfield said, his words even. “We have other matters to discuss.”

  Bennett released a heavy breath and fell into one of the chairs.

  “You cost us that man today.”

  That he hadn’t been expecting. “I beg your pardon. I believe I did my job and saved Her Majesty.”

  “You tossed the man off the platform and into the crowd.” Potterfield shook his head. “We lost him. He got away, and now he’s still out there and could potentially come after her again.”

  “I saved her,” he said again.

  “You reacted in anger, just as you did to Morton the other day outside of the Queen’s rooms.”

  “Morton is a bastard.”

  “Be that as it may, you cannot simply go about putting your hands on people in such a way. You must learn to control yourself. Damnation, Bennett, you’re more intelligent than this. You do not need to use your strength to overpower every situation. But if you continue to do so, there will be no future for you in the Brotherhood. We risk too much by your actions.”

  …

  Evie stepped into the tunnels exactly as she had done earlier with Bennett. She could hear them arguing down the corridor, Bennett and someone else, another man. She inched closer to better hear their voices. The tunnel was dimly lit so she put her hand to the carved stone wall and followed it forward. Her fingertips chilled beneath the cold rock. She heard her cousin’s voice up ahead.

  “We shall cancel it, give some excuse as to why the queen won’t attend,” Ellis said. “No one will question it.”

  “They will,” another man said. “Already the country is at odds, people believe her to be too young to effectively lead. Any show of weakness right now could destroy her chance at becoming a worthwhile monarch.”

  “Well, I don’t want to put Evelyn in any additional danger,” Ellis said. “I should never have suggested this. It’s too risky.”

  Where was Bennett in all of this? Light flickered ahead and she turned right down the tunnel.

  “If Somersby is so reluctant to complete this assignment, then he should step aside and allow someone else to do it.”

  Bennett was reluctant to continue working with her? Disappointment fell heavy onto her.

  “If he can’t or is unwilling to ready the girl for the event, I shall do it,” the man said.

  She’d heard enough. She followed the tunnel to where they stood discussing her as if she had no opinion in the matter. “I don’t see any reason why you have to hide down here and discuss me.” It was Ellis and another gentlemen, whom she’d seen the night of the opera, though she had not been formally introduced.

  Bennett chose that moment to step out of one of the rooms. His gaze fell on her and his frown deepened. “Evelyn,” Bennett said. “What are you doing down here?” He moved forward to her. “You should be resting.” He tried to lead her away, his large hand hovering at the small of her back.

  “Miss Marrington,” Sir Potterfield said as he stepped out of the room where Bennett had been. “I take it that Lord Somersby took great care with your injury?”

  Blush warmed her cheeks as she remembered those alone moments with Bennett as he’d tended her wound. “Yes, he did,” she managed to say.

  “Excellent,” Potterfield said. “Now then, I believe we are in agreement to move forward, are we not, Somersby?”

  Bennett gave a curt nod, and said nothing. Bennett did not look at her, but she could feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

  “What is this next event you would like me to attend?” she asked.

  “There is an upcoming art opening that Her Majesty has been supporting. For her to not attend would be suspicious,” Potterfield said. “Let us return to the palace and get out of this dank tunnel.”

  The gentleman whom she had not officially met came to her and offered his arm. “Adrian Winthrop, Marquis of St. Giles, my lady, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

  She took his arm and they followed Potterfield through the tunnel. Ellis hung back with Bennett and they took up the rear.

  “I can prepare you for the art exhibit. I do believe Bennett has given up on you, my dear.” St. Giles winked at her with a devilish grin.

  Together they followed the tunnel that led back to the Privy Council room, where they took seats. Had Bennett given up on her? She didn’t want to work with anyone else; she’d come to trust him. The adventure aspect had increasingly become more dangerous, so she’d be a fool to not want to continue working with the largest and strongest man in the group.

  Bennett rolled his eyes heavenward. “No, I am only concerned for her wellbeing, something that no one else seems to be considering. The opera is one thing, a contained building, a contained box seat where no one could get to her. This other will be more difficult. Look at what happened on the train platform.”

  “We can protect her as we would the queen,” St. Giles said. “It is our duty. No one will question our being there.”

  “That is not the point. She is a civilian.”

  “A civilian who agreed to do this,” Evelyn said. “My Lords, I am perfectly capable and happy to continue with this assignment. I trust that you shall keep me protected.” Though she did not call him out, she settled her gaze at Bennett, hoping he would reassure her.

  Instead it was St. Giles who grinned and put his hand on her arm. “Precisely, she knows what she’s about, is prepared for the potential danger.”

  “And we will most assuredly compensate you, financially, for the additional time,” Potterfield said.

  She nodded. “But you aren’t anticipating any danger, are you? It’s an art exhibit, not the sort of place for ruffians.”

  “Of course not,” St. Giles said. He stood. “Then it is settled. She agrees to continue working and I can get her prepared. I shall see you tomorrow to give you all the instruction you need.”

  Bennett’s jaw clinched. “I never said I was walking away from this assignment. Miss Marrington is my responsibility.” He stood and held his hand out to her. “Now, if you will excuse us, I am going to take her back to her chambers so she can rest.”

  …

  She turned on him as soon as they were alone in her chamber. “Why don’t you want me working with him? He seems as capable as you. Is he not?” Her hands fisted on her hips.

  “His capability is not the issue.” He did his best to keep his tone even. “You may not work with him. That is the end of the discussion.”

  “I don’t understand. You don’t want to continue working with me, yet you refuse to allow someone else to ready me for the event.”

  “Adrian is a rogue. You will fall in love with him and then he’ll break your heart. Is that what you want?”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, but mirth glowed in her eyes, and then she laughed, loud and full, a laugh that came from the bottom of her toes.

  He frowned. “What is so funny? You believe yourself incapable of falling in love? I can assure you that St. Giles has left a string of broken hearts throughout London and the nearby villages.”

  “You told me the other day that you do not even believe in love. ‘It is merely an illusion of manipulation,’ I believe you said. You are a silly man.
”

  “I am not silly. I am trying to protect you.” He tossed his arms up in the air. “Evidently, I’m the only one around here who is the least bit concerned about your safety. You are not accustomed to life in London or the ways of the men here.”

  “He is so different from you?”

  “I will not try to seduce you.” Not because he didn’t want to. Damnation, he wanted to right here, right now. “I will not make you fall in love with me and then break your heart.”

  “You are such a gentleman.” She stepped over to him and reached out to touch his arm, then pulled back. “I shall not fall in love with Lord St. Giles. You have my word.” Then she shook her head and smiled. “Besides, I can nearly guarantee that he would not try to seduce me. I’ve managed to live this long with nary an attempted seduction. I doubt that my presence in London will change that. I am not that tempting.” And as if to prove herself, she leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was short and chaste, and then she stepped back with a smug little grin on her face.

  “See? Even when I behave scandalously, I can’t tempt a man.”

  But that one little taste proved too tempting for him to ignore. He grabbed her and pressed himself against her. “You have no idea how tempting you are.” He dropped his mouth to hers. Her lips felt as though they’d been made for him to kiss, an intoxicating combination of satin soft skin and innocence and sweet Evelyn.

  Only Evelyn.

  She tasted sweet, and the moment her mouth opened to his, the instant her tongue tentatively slid against his, desire forged through him. But it was more than lust; it was an overwhelming sense of protectiveness, possessiveness.

  He backed her up, one slow step at a time until he felt her legs bump against the side of her bed. From here, there was nowhere to go but down. Everything about her was intoxicating—the taste of her skin on his lips, the scent of her that was somehow simultaneously exotic and familiar, the innocent, yet seductive way she bumped against him, as if she couldn’t get enough of the feel of his body against hers. As if she wanted him to take her right here, in this very moment.

  He couldn’t take her, though, despite the fact that he knew she’d freely give him whatever he sought. She was his for the taking. It was a heady thought, one that nearly buckled him to his knees. Somehow he found the strength needed to end the kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers. Their labored breaths mingled between them and he gripped her arms.