The Spy and His Lady Love

by Christine Donovan

  He leaned closer, and his minty breath wafted across her cheek. “If Newbury dies, who do you think takes over the title?”

  Once again, she covered her mouth to stifle her rude noises. “Let’s pray that never comes to fruition, and he has many heirs.”

  “You do realize those heirs will be yours as well.”

  The insufferable man. “Please be quiet, I’d like to enjoy the music.”

  “Forgive me for disturbing you.”

  After the Cavanaugh girls’ performance ended they spread out into the ballroom for refreshments. Mr. Sinclair followed them as though he belonged in their party. It was most perturbing. How was she to relax and remember society’s rules of etiquette if she was constantly on edge from being near his person. She rather hated the guilty emotions he welded up inside her. Guilt for being attracted to both him and Newbury. Why did the cousins have to resemble each other in looks and mannerisms?

  “You seem annoyed with Mr. Sinclair this evening?” Emma whispered as Wentworth and Mr. Sinclair moved away to speak with several other gentlemen in attendance.

  Am I that obvious? “For some reason he annoys me. Perhaps because he looks so much like Newbury I find it unsettling. It makes me wish the roles were reversed and Mr. Sinclair was damaged and Newbury perfect.” She gasped and slapped her mouth, her eyes darting nervously around them. “I’m a horrible person. How will I ever be able to be a duchess? I can’t believe the prince is even allowing such a match. There are very few dukes, and one shouldn’t be wedding a bastard.”

  “Hush, Penelope,” Emma scolded as she looked around. Then let out a breath. “Thank goodness I don’t think anyone heard you. You mustn’t call yourself that. Wentworth has worked hard to elevate you up in society. He betrothed you to a duke. And not just any duke. The Newbury Dukedom is one of the oldest and wealthiest.” Emma gasped. “Oh dear, I sound like an uptight English aristocrat. Not the American I was born.”

  “Indeed, you do. As to the Newbury Dukedom. Yes. So I’ve been told it’s one of the oldest and wealthiest. Wentworth should not have bothered. I would have been perfectly happy marrying a country squire.” She told the truth. She would much prefer to live in the country out of the eyes and ears of the ton. What if she embarrassed the duke once they wed? There was still much she needed to learn about the aristocracy. Newbury was a duke. Would they be expected to host balls and the Prince Regent? From what she’d heard, Newbury was close friends with the man.

  Emma smiled beautifully. “Here are our men. We must take our leave.”

  “Our men? Surely you realize Mr. Sinclair is not my man.”

  Emma’s cheeks pinked. “Yes. That isn’t what I meant.”

  Penelope found herself sharing the cushioned bench with Mr. Sinclair…again as he shared their carriage…again. Once or twice his leg brushed up against hers. Whether from accident or on purpose, she couldn’t tell. And she refused to acknowledge the heat burning her skin through her skirts from his muscular leg. His hand also brushed against her thigh. The man was a rakehell, a ne’er-do-well, and didn’t belong anywhere near her in a dark conveyance when her chaperons had their eyes closed across from her.

  “Are you looking forward to your wedding?” his voice asked in a whisper, very close to her ear.

  “Why yes, Mr. Sinclair, I am.”

  “Liar.” His breath heated her earlobe, and she fought the urge to squirm on the seat. This attraction had to stop. Being anywhere near him had to stop. How was she to be an exemplary wife to Newbury when she desired his cousin? And she desired Newbury. What was wrong with her? She’d experienced no physical or emotional attraction to any man before. Why now? And why two different men?”

  “You seem lost in thought. Care to share? You know I will keep your secrets.”

  His words brought a curse to her lips.

  “Easy there, Lady Penelope, if you say such things in public, people will bring up your less than stellar entrance into this world.”

  Before she realized what she was about to do, she smacked him in the arm with her reticle. Too bad it wasn’t full of rocks and would cause actual damage. “How could you…”

  The noise woke up Wentworth and Emma. “What was that noise?” Wentworth asked as he pulled aside the curtain and peered out the window.

  “Sounded like the driver ran over something,” Mr. Sinclair replied.

  “Yes, well. If it was anything to be concerned about, we would be stopping.”

  “We are Your Grace,” Mr. Sinclair said with a grin. “We have arrived at Newbury House.”

  The driver opened the door and let down the stairs.

  Once outside he bowed. “Thank you for your hospitality this evening. Duke, Duchess, Lady Penelope.”

  “He appears to be an affable gentleman,” Wentworth said as the carriage got underway. “I would consider him marrying into the family if I had any more sisters to marry off.” His laughter rang throughout the coach. “Thank goodness I don’t.”

  Penelope and Emma laughed along with him. Yes. Thank goodness she was the last to marry off. She didn’t want to contemplate Mr. Sinclair marrying into the Seabrook family. It was bad enough she was marrying into his.

  Harry disliked walking in the front door. One never knew who might be watching his home. But he didn’t want Wentworth to think something strange if he went around back. He handed his greatcoat, hat, and gloves to his doorman and was told his valet awaited him in his room. As he ascended the stairs, he wondered why Edmond needed to see him immediately upon his return.

  “There you are,” Edmond said as he handed Harry a glass of whiskey. “You will need this.”

  Harry cocked a brow. “Why may I ask?”

  “Kincaid and James were murdered in Kincaid’s home earlier this evening. Their throats slit.”

  After downing his whiskey, Newbury paced the sitting room off his bedchamber. His heart ached and instantly his entire body tensed up painfully tight. “They were made?”

  “Yes,” Edmond answered.

  Visions of his dead colleagues sent fear running through his veins for the safety of all the spies within the War Office. Which also included several women. He would never forgive himself for attending a musical, trying to get to know his intended better, instead of hunting down the enemy. Letting the enemy snuff out the lives of honorable men. One which had a wife and two small children. Pausing, he looked down at his hand, still holding the empty glass. He raised his arm and threw it at the fireplace with a crash.

  Too bad the satisfaction of destroying something lasted only moments. Stopping at the small desk he kept in his sitting room, he scribbled off a message to Smythe and handed it to Edmond. “Deliver this right away and don’t leave without him.”

  An hour later Harry had nearly worn a path in the Aubusson carpet in the library. He scribbled off several more messages and had them delivered. He waited anxiously to hear from Prinny.

  Where the bloody hell were Edmond and Smythe? He was reaching here, but he hoped the Runner had some information on the deaths? No sooner had the thoughts entered his mind than the two gentlemen walked into the library.

  “Please sit,” Harry said as he stood in front of the hearth, enjoying the heat from the flames against his chilled body. Not just chilled, numb, shock, whatever it was had his insides frozen.

  “Thank you for coming at such an ungodly hour. Two of the War Office’s top spies were murdered. Throats slit.”

  “Yes. I know. I sent a Runner over with the Guard Arms to investigate. At the time I figured it was a theft gone bad. Then when my man returned and reported to me that uniforms from the Secretary of War’s Office arrived and made everyone leave I figured they were not your average men.” Smythe wore rumpled clothing and looked exhausted, complete with dark circles beneath his eye and stress lines bracketing his mouth. “I’d only just crawled into bed when your man here arrived.” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “Bloody long night and only getting longer.”

  “Have you heard an
y rumors about Kincaid and James? I know you have connections in the underbelly of London, St. Giles, and the rockeries. Your own network of spies feeding you information. And possibly a Runner or two who are crooked.”

  “We’ve had our share of crooked Runners. Caught one last year, and he’s comfortably rotting in Newgate. Have you considered a double spy has infiltrated your organization? One with the task of murdering all members of the War Office? But I also must add that it is widely known that Newbury in full disguise, works for the War Office. Why has no one tried to kill you?”

  “Yes, it is known, or rumored, that I work for the War Office as a delegate. Not as a spy. Most think I’m harmless and have no proper authority. Which is what we want people to think. Meanwhile, have you any thoughts about Baron Littleton. We’ve been investigating him since the war ended. Unfortunately, all we have on him is hearsay. We have no proof of his crimes against the Crown. But he has been our prime focus of late. One reason I recruited you. I believe you will pique his interest once you’re fired from your present job and insinuated back into the underbelly of London.”

  Smythe frowned. “I thought I would be demoted, then quit.”

  Harry ran his hands through his hair. “Changed my mind. Firing you would get you working undercover faster. And with these two murders, it’s something we need. The sooner I have you onboard the better.”

  “I’m still worried about my wife and her family.”

  “I know. I’m still working out the logistics.”

  “So. Are we still waiting until after your wedding to fire me?” Smythe said with a knowing grin.

  “No. They will fire you tomorrow on suspicion of murder.”

  “Whose?” Shaking his head, he added, “Never mind. I can guess. It’s the perfect setup.”

  “Indeed.” Harry paused as something else bothered him. “I may have to postpone my wedding to Lady Penelope. I can’t possibly leave for several days when my peoples’ lives are in peril. Not to mention, I’d rather not bring her into this mess and put her life in danger as well.”

  Smythe visibly tensed. “Perhaps Mary should spend time with her family. If I don’t send her away, once I’m fired, Spencer will, no doubt, take her home and away from me.”

  “I’m sorry to put you in this situation.”

  “It’s something I agreed to. I’ll deal with the repercussions.”

  “Edmond, is there anything you want to add?”

  “Starting tomorrow we work in pairs. A lot of good it did for Kincaid and James, but I advise you should strictly enforce the pair issue.”

  “Superb idea. I will. You gentlemen must be as tired as I. Smythe, go home to your wife. Tomorrow will prove to be a trying day for both of you. Edmond, I won’t need you again tonight, you may retire.”

  By half-nine the following morning as Harry sat in his office drinking his second cup of coffee, he cringed at what was occurring across town in Smythe’s office. Since Smythe was the head of the runner’s, the Secretary of War himself would cause a scene by firing Smythe. No charges would be brought against him, but it would be widely known he was a suspect in the two murders of War Office officials. Harry felt bad for doing this to Smythe and bringing him on board. If in the future, he changed his mind about working for the War Office, they would plan for him to retake his post. Somehow, Harry didn’t think he would go back. Smythe had that look in his eyes last night after finding out about Kincaid and James. He already felt attached to them and the War Office. If only there were more good, determined, and fearless men like him. England would benefit immensely for it.

  When Smythe arrived home in the wee hours of the morning, instead of climbing back in bed with his lovely bride, Mary Smythe, formally Miss Mary Spencer, he stoked the fire in their modest bedchamber and sat down in one of two newly upholstered chairs and contemplated how to explain to Mary about the events which would unfold when he arrived at work. Breaking her heart and causing her pain wasn’t an option.

  “Robert, has something happened? Why aren’t you in bed?” His wife’s voice, soft and sleepy, never failed to ease his heart. Nor awaken his body’s desire for her.

  “Why don’t you join me. I’ve something to discuss with you.” Wrapped in the bed’s coverlet, she curled up on his lap, put her arms around his neck, and rested her head on his chest. Directly over his heart. A heart that belonged to her. He folded her in his arms and held her. Some days he could not believe how lucky he was to have married Mary. Because of who he was and who Mary was, the granddaughter of a countess, he never expected the marriage to be allowed to take place. It was the happiest day of his life. And not all that long ago.

  “The War Office contacted me and offered me a position.”

  “Mmmm.”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Sorry. Still sleepy. Can you repeat what you said, my love?”

  “The War Office contacted me and offered me a position.”

  “Congratulations. That is quite an honor, is it not?”

  “It is.”

  Her arms slipped from his neck, and she sat up, looking at him with sleepy eyes. “Then why is there no excitement in your voice?”

  “In order to make my undercover work as a spy plausible, my reputation as a Runner has to be ruined. Tomorrow morning, they will fire me as the head of the Bow Street Runners, claiming I’m a suspect in the murder of two gentlemen.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “I’m going undercover for the War Office to catch an English Lord who works for the French. Has worked for them for years, even during the war. I need to re-establish myself into the rookeries and back alleys of St. Giles. I need people to trust me with their secrets, so I can help bring to justice this Englishman. Also, two of the War Office’s spies were murdered last night.” He paused and waited for Mary to comprehend what he’d just said.

  “I thought you said after we wed, you would take a less dangerous role within the Runners.”

  She remembered correctly. “I was planning on it. I never imagined working for the War Office. They came to me. How can I turn down a position that the prince sent someone to offer me?”

  “I don’t suppose you can.”

  “No, sweetheart, I can’t. You need to listen to me. I told you because it will ruin my name and reputation.”

  She gasped.

  “You are the only one I’m allowed, at this point in time, to confide in. In order to keep you from being ruined as well, you’ll have to move home temporarily with Spencer and Miranda. Or go and stay with Elizabeth and Amesbury.” He hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so sorry for what this will do to you. If I could, in some way, prevent this ugliness I would. However, because of all the Crown has done for me, I need to give back.”

  He moved, so they faced each other. His hands cupped her cheeks, which were wet with tears, and his heart cracked in two. “I love you. No matter what you hear or your family tells you to do, I love you. Nothing bad about me that reaches your ears is true. Remember that. Remember in your heart who I am. Loyal, honorable, and trustworthy. And most of all, I love you with all my heart.” Robert couldn’t say it surprised him to feel tears pooling in his eyes. He hated to cause Mary pain. And even though she would know the truth, she would be hurt by all the hurtful comments made to her about him. If only he could save and protect her from what was about to happen. “Perhaps you should retire to Bath for a spell. That way you will not be subjected to hurt and scandal firsthand.”

  “No. At least not in the beginning.” Hurt and worry radiated from her eyes. Eyes he never wanted to see anything but happiness in. Perhaps he’d made a terrible mistake in accepting Newbury’s offer. It had only been a brief time since he needed to remember he didn’t just have himself to concern himself with. He now had a wife he adored and loved beyond reason and his decision in joining the War Office would affect her as much, if not more, than him.

  “I believe I will stay with Elizabeth and Amesbury, if they don’t
mind.”

  “They would never refuse your desire to spend time with them. Besides, Amesbury’s London townhome is large enough you would not infringe on their privacy at all.” He looked deep into her eyes, hoping all the love and desire he had for her shined through. He kissed her deeply, setting off an explosion of need. Picking her up, he carried her to bed and made love to her until the sun awoke, kissing the sky with its bright yellow and orange rays signaling another day of life. As his beloved wife slumbered in his arms, he prayed she would forgive him for what was to come. Because even he couldn’t comprehend how bad the fallout would be for her. He didn’t care what people thought or said about him. His worry centered on Mary and keeping her safe from harm and the hurtful wagging tongues of the ton.

  Chapter 7

  “He what?” Penelope must have heard Thomas wrong.

  “I’m sorry. His Grace has sent a missive saying he has to postpone the wedding due to unforeseen circumstances. And hopes you understand that he is not breaking off the engagement.” Her brother’s eyes narrowed to slits; his anger palpable within the four walls. “If he cancels, I’ll have him murdered. The bloody bastard, ‘unforeseen circumstances’ my arse. He better come up with something better when I pay him an unannounced call this afternoon. This could ruin you. If I could get my hands on his neck?” Penelope cringed as he used his hands and pretended to strangle someone. It almost made her feel sorry for Newbury.

  “Why don’t I call it off and be done with him.”

  “No,” he bellowed.

  “If I call off our engagement, there will be talk, but no scandal and I will not be ruined. Which means so much to you.” She waved her hand. “The announcement will not come as a shock when you consider whom I’m affianced to.”