My Lord the Spy

by Audrey Harrison

  Joshua chuckled. “Perhaps you need to look closer to home in providing my entertainments? I need to stay nearby of an evening. Your bedchamber overlooks the sea does it not?”

  Clara went cold at the suggestion in his words but maintained most of her outward calm. “You shall never find out what my bedchamber overlooks, Mr Shambles.”

  “Fiery talk for one who has promised to protect her brother,” Joshua sneered.

  “I will protect my brother, but I will not sacrifice myself for him,” Clara said, her disgust finally showing on her face. “I can see my cousin wishing to speak to me. Excuse me, Mr Shambles.”

  Clara hurried to the bottom of the pathway, to where Milly stood, looking in concern at her cousin. “I hadn’t realised you were alone with him, although I should have done. Lord Grinstead was teasing Miss Walsh, and she is such an innocent, I could not leave her, but if I’d realised who you were walking with, I would have left her to her fate.”

  Clara smiled. “There was no need, although I do appreciate the excuse to leave him. I’m worried about what he will do next.”

  Henry approached Clara and Milly. “Miss Baker, would you do me the honour of accompanying me along the beach? I fancy a brisk walk along the shoreline.”

  “Of course, My Lord,” Clara responded and accepted his arm as they left the group behind.

  “A fine day for a picnic,” Henry responded pleasantly.

  “Yes, although Mrs Brandon did not like the feel of the wind.”

  “A delicate creature who is going to be more so. Brandon tells me she is increasing.” Henry’s tone was everything polite, but Clara could detect that he was just going through the motions of being an amenable companion. He was certainly an indiscreet one; he should not be telling anyone of Mrs Brandon’s condition.

  “I’m sure he is happy to shield her from the wind; he seems a doting husband.”

  “I’m sure they are perfectly content,” came the slightly sarcastic response.

  “Do you not believe in marital harmony, My Lord?”

  “I’ve never seen any evidence of it,” Henry shrugged.

  “In the whole of society? That is a sad state of affairs!” Clara smiled slightly.

  “People are pushed into marrying each other to extend lands or secure a dowry. It doesn’t bode well for a happy marriage; look at Brandon – the perfect example. He needed a large dowry,” Henry countered.

  “Yes, but in cases such as that, it is important to find someone with a large dowry, who you can then fall in love with!”

  Henry laughed. “I suppose so.” He decided it was time to change the subject; he had indulged his companion enough with idle chatter. “This beach is very private.”

  Clara glanced at her companion but his features were impassive. “It is,” she replied. She was not about to give him any information unless he asked for it.

  “Those wishing to use the beach for nefarious activity are lucky that the rock formations form in such a way as to create a small headland in each direction,” Henry mused. “It couldn’t be better if it had been man-made.”

  “The seclusion it gives has always been appealing, but thankfully until now, not for criminal activity.”

  “Not that you are aware of,” Henry reasoned.

  “I would rather look back at my ancestry with happier thoughts than that they were a horde of smugglers, My Lord!”

  “You really have got a happy outlook on life haven’t you? Thinking well of your ancestors, believing in love matches in marriages. Next you’ll be telling me that mermaids visit your beach every day!”

  “I like to think that I have an open outlook on life; but no, as yet I have not seen any mermaids on or near the beach,” Clara said with a small smile. “My cousin walks down here more often than anyone else; she likes to capture the changes in the sea. Perhaps she has seen some?”

  “Is the artist in her so fanciful?” Henry asked.

  Clara laughed. “No, Milly is far too sensible for that! Even you would believe in mermaids before she did!”

  Henry smiled politely, but he was actually thinking how tedious young ladies became once the sparkle of youth had disappeared. They lost their looks and their sparkle all at once it seemed. It was as if ladies were young and then old, without anything in-between. Milly had a pleasant face, in fact quite a pretty one for one past her youth, but spending hours drawing proved to Henry that she had accepted her spinsterhood and was living her life accordingly.

  “We have reached the headland, My Lord. Would it be prudent to return to the group?” Clara asked, looking back. Everyone seemed more than happy except perhaps Mr Shambles. Charles and Miss Beresford were walking in the opposite direction; Milly and Miss Walsh were seated; both looked to be drawing with Miss Brandon looking on, while Mr Shambles had separated himself from the group, seeming to be casually watching them all whilst smoking a cheroot.

  “An interesting choice of cigar,” Henry mused. “Perhaps more evidence that he is involved in smuggling?”

  “Smuggling cigars?” Clara asked in surprise.

  “Cheroots are commonly found in France,” Henry said with a shrug.

  “Come, My Lord! Are you telling me that there are no legitimate ways of obtaining such a cigar?”

  “Maybe, but I doubt your friend has need to visit any such an establishment.”

  “He is no friend of mine!” Clara said indignantly.

  “Sensible girl,” Henry said approvingly. “We do have one friend in common though.”

  “I doubt that very much,” Clara responded; her tone was glacial and made Henry bark with laughter.

  “Miss Baker, you are a delight! Let us continue a little around the headland.”

  “As you wish, but there is nothing to see except the same coastline, My Lord.”

  “Yes, making this little hideaway even more special. My friend says that this stretch beyond the headland is rather cold overnight.”

  “Lord Chertsey spends the nights on the beach?” Clara asked in disbelief.

  “Well one of us had to and now that he is no longer invited to entertainments, he can sleep all day.”

  “My Lord, are you trying to make me feel guilty about the lack of entertainments for your friend? If you are, I have to say, it isn’t working!”

  Henry chuckled. “He will be devastated.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I promised my friend one thing,” Henry said. “Although playing matchmaker goes against all my better judgement, as you know.”

  “I dread to think what you have promised, My Lord,” Clara muttered with a mounting sense of excitement, dread and annoyance, all mixed together in one swirl of emotion.

  “That I would accompany you around the headland and then disappear for a few moments whilst my friend pleads his case,” Henry said with derision.

  Clara stopped walking; they were already around the set of rocks out of sight now of the others. “I don’t like being forced into situations that can benefit no one, My Lord!”

  “My friend would argue that he would benefit by seeing you. He is like a pining puppy, Miss Baker; it is pitiful to watch. Please put him out of his misery,” Henry said smoothly.

  “By shooting him?” Clara asked.

  Henry chuckled. “I can see why he is drawn to you, Miss Baker, I really can. Ah, Edmund, here she is, all eager to see you!”

  Clara glared at Henry before turning to the form of Edmund that was reclining against the rock face. He looked handsome enough to torture Clara in his fine brown wool frock coat and sand-coloured waistcoat. His breeches matched the colouring of the waistcoat and, although he had obviously walked across the sand, his boots still gleamed in the daylight. His stovepipe rested on the rocks, and his hair lifted a little in the wind; almost as much as Clara’s heart had as soon as she had seen him.

  She saw the dark circles under his eyes from his nocturnal activities ̶ a surprise when considering he was a confirmed rake who would often stay up all night. His smi
le was ever so slightly hesitant; for once the surety of his poise and expression evading him. She was angry with Edmund and now angry with Henry for bringing her here, but she could not ignore the way her pulse had begun to race as soon as she had seen Edmund. Clara cursed her feelings.

  Henry quickly walked out of hearing distance and left Clara and Edmund looking at each other. Clara was still angry with him; at the same time, as she wanted to run into his arms. She could see that Edmund was slightly wary of the response he was going to get.

  “I’m glad you came,” Edmund started, his voice quieter than normal.

  “I didn’t realise what I was being tricked into until I arrived, My Lord,” Clara responded coolly.

  “How have you been? Is that man pestering you? I’ve told Henry he’d better protect you whenever he is in your company.”

  “A pity he didn’t interrupt then when I was on the pathway to the beach. Mr Shambles is becoming restless because Charles is neglecting him for the conversation of a pretty girl.”

  Edmund’s face clouded over; Clara was a little worried that he was going to bound around the headland his body tensed so much, and she spoke to calm things down. “I’m not afraid of him, mostly,” she admitted.

  “I should be there,” Edmund snarled.

  “Why should you?” Clara snapped. “You, who has proved to me I can’t trust you any more than I can Mr Shambles!”

  “You can trust me; I promise you that.”

  “I don’t believe you. You have lied from the first moment we met. No wonder you wouldn’t answer my earlier questions! And to think I was jealous of mistresses! I could laugh at what your secret was if it wasn’t so ridiculous.”

  “They need people like me to get into places like Mrs Langtree’s. She doesn’t allow just anyone to enter.”

  “I dispute that; she allowed Mr Shambles! I don’t feel that the risk to your reputation is worth being what you are.”

  “Is that what bothers you? That my reputation would be lost if I was discovered as a spy?” Edmund said, wondering if he had misread Clara’s character, and she was as fickle as the other women he was unfortunate enough to have to spend time with when he was in society.

  “Of course not! It doesn’t affect me, but it should bother you!” Clara snapped. The problem was that it did bother her! Oh, not for any reason Edmund would understand, but because she could not bear the possibility of everyone treating him with derision.

  Edmund decided it was time to lighten the mood a little. He did not wish the precious few minutes he had to be wasted in arguing. “You must at least like me a little if you were jealous of whom I might be seeing at Mrs Langtree’s,” Edmund said with a smile that would have melted a harder heart than Clara’s. He needed to seize any small advantage. He had never before begged for forgiveness or even wanted forgiveness, but Clara’s opinion of him was necessary for his well-being. He had been bereft without her.

  “Were, being the operative word,” Clara said, herself lying. “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand all this effort and deceit to catch some smugglers.”

  “Henry doesn’t believe they are just smuggling brandy and a few cheroots, and what am I risking in reality? My name in society is hardly that of an angel!” Edmund’s tone was derisory. He was annoyed that his teasing had not managed to change the subject.

  “What are you risking? You would be laughed out of society if they discovered what you are doing! Is that what you want? To be exiled from the society that you have belonged to since you were born?”

  Edmund looked at Clara for a moment before speaking. “Is my good name in society so important to you?” he asked quietly.

  “What?” Clara asked, his words not making sense at first. She flushed when his meaning dawned on her. “Of course not! Why should it be? We mean nothing to each other!”

  Edmund felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach, her words felt so physical in their delivery. She did not care about him. He was sure that she had initially, but his deceit or his occupation had changed that. For the first time since meeting her, he realised he had been arrogant in the extreme; he had fallen for her hard, very hard in fact, but he had not seriously considered that he had lost her until she spoke.

  “I’m so very sorry, Miss Baker,” Edmund said quietly, looking around for Henry.

  “What for?” Clara asked, feeling remorse at the expression on Edmund’s face.

  “For forcing you to face yet another uncomfortable situation. I promise it won’t happen again.” Edmund took hold of Clara’s hand and kissed it. The kiss was longer than it should have been, almost burning through her glove. Edmund looked into Clara’s eyes as he kept hold of her hand. “I wish you all the very best, Miss Baker. I wish that I was the one by your side whilst you have to be polite to that weasel of a man; I wish that I was the one to offer comfort. I am sorry I made a complete hash of everything. I just wanted to protect you and be near you; be assured that I didn’t lie about that. Please be careful around Shambles; don’t underestimate him.”

  Clara could not speak for a few moments. The impassioned speech moved her greatly; for the first time, she acknowledged to herself that her feelings were not so easily pushed aside where Edmund was concerned. Finally, she took a breath, “He will be gone soon; please don’t worry. Lord Chertsey, I think I might have ̶ ,”

  “Come Edmund, time I returned your lady to her guests. I don’t want to be accused of leading her astray. I have found some interesting shells that we can say distracted us, Miss Baker,” Henry said re-joining the pair.

  Clara stepped away from Edmund; the opportunity to say that she had spoken hastily was lost. She turned to Henry with a heavy heart; she had a feeling she would not see Edmund again.

  Chapter 14

  Clara watched the figure skulk across the lawn in front of the house, taking advantage of the moonlit night having lots of clouds. She could guess who it was; there was only one guest who was interested in the shoreline during the hours of darkness. Part of her wanted to follow him and find out exactly what he was doing, but the more sensible side of her knew that would be foolish in the extreme. Joshua Shambles had a goal to achieve, and he would not worry about who he trampled on if they got in the way; Clara was sure of it.

  She had only noticed his figure by accident being unable to sleep due to the conversation from earlier. It still bothered her. Edmund’s words had floated around her like a cloud of annoying insects, reminding her of what she had said and more frustratingly what she should have said. She cared for him even though he had lied and was risking goodness knew what; she cared, and now there would be no real opportunity to change that.

  She had thought of inviting him to Glazebrook House, which would send the message she had changed her mind about giving away his identity. After much thought Clara decided against the plan; there would be no opportunity to talk in private, and she was not convinced that Edmund would be able to control his temper around Joshua. He had looked fit to kill him on the beach when Joshua was nowhere in sight; putting them in the same room would be disastrous for everyone, especially Charles.

  Even now as she watched Joshua disappear into the beach hut, she was concerned. It was highly likely that Edmund was hiding somewhere on the beach. She had to trust in his ability to stay safe, but she was under no doubt that she would have a restless night’s sleep, worrying about him.

  *

  Joshua waited for Bernard and Claude to join him as he had on previous occasions, lighting a cheroot as he waited. He would be glad to get away from this house and everyone within it. He was damned sure that before he left he would give Charles a beating that he would not easily forget; it would make up for some of the dreary times he had been forced to spend with the fop.

  Bernard and the ever-silent Claude emerged from the beach. Joshua smiled; if only everyone knew that Claude was French and hated the English almost as much as Boneparte himself. He was very useful to have as an ally, almost unstoppable when in a fight.
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  “Is everything ready?” Joshua asked Bernard, there was no need or time for pleasantries.

  “Yes, although there is a little change of plan,” Bernard said, holding his hand out to indicate that he wanted a cheroot. Joshua reluctantly gave up one of his own.

  “What now?” came the exasperated question.

  “There’ll be five men and their ‘luggage’,” Bernard responded.

  “Why so many?”

  “Someone has decided that now is the time to have a larger attack. Our five will make a total of fifteen being landed across the coast. This is the best spot; that’s why we have five,” Bernard answered. There was no longer any sign of the jolly trader that Charles had seen; here was an efficient operative of the French.

  “It’s still going to be difficult to get them away from here.”

  “The caves are perfect. They’re aware that they’re going to be staying in the cave system until the following evening. We want to be sure all of them from the other landing places have got ashore and are safe and sound before we start transporting them to the capital. Next week our King will see explosions in all the important places in his city; hopefully he’ll be near enough so at least one explosion will see him finished off for good, although I’m glad I don’t have that responsibility. I’ve got your next set of orders,” Bernard said handing Joshua a letter.

  “I’m to follow them into London. It will be good to get out of this place,” Joshua said with feeling when he had read the missive.

  “At least you have a comfortable bed. The inn we’re staying in is wanting, even for Claude!” Bernard chuckled.

  “So, in two nights?” Joshua asked noticing the scowl that Claude sent Bernard and wondering, not for the first time, just how much the Frenchman could understand.

  “Yes. The weather isn’t going to be great, but it’ll do. They’re all coming in separate boats in case there are any problems.”

  “There shouldn’t be; this beach is empty apart from when that lot go on it. I’ve not noticed anyone else on it while I’ve been here.”