The Husband Mission (The Spy Matchmaker Book 1)

by Regina Scott

  Chapter Twenty

  Katherine came down the stairs more slowly in Alex’s wake. It was done. She had been noble and let him see her true self. She was not surprised that he had rejected her. She was only surprised it hurt so much.

  Constance and Eric were peering out the withdrawing room door. It was a guess as to whose eyes were wider.

  “You showed him the War Office,” Eric guessed.

  “The what?” Constance asked.

  “The War Office,” Katherine told her, amazed she could be so calm. “It is across from the schoolroom. We studied Lord Borin quite thoroughly before presenting him to you. We had his entire life neatly cataloged on the walls. We listed his likes, dislikes, strengths, and weaknesses. And now he knows ours. I thought it was only fair.”

  Eric grimaced. “Was he awfully mad?”

  “Tremendously,” Katherine replied, trying not to remember the hurt and anger on his face. “We shall not hear from him again unless it is through his solicitor calling us before the magistrates.”

  Eric paled as Constance gasped. “The magistrates? Surely you did nothing criminal.”

  “Perhaps not,” Katherine allowed, “although there might be some prohibition against trapping a man into marriage for material gain.”

  “But that’s not what you did,” Constance protested. “He wanted to marry you. You wanted to marry him. You love him.”

  “That is immaterial,” Katherine snapped. “I am a managing female. Lord Borin should be thankful to be rid of me.”

  “You are a skilled administrator,” Sir Richard corrected, coming up the stairs. “And Borin would be lucky to have you beside him, as would any fellow.”

  Katherine raised her head, hoping he would not see the pain that must be blazing from her eyes. “A shame he did not see fit to agree with you, Uncle.”

  “A greater shame that you do not agree with me, Katherine,” he chided.

  “Agree with you?” She felt tears coming and dashed them away. Could none of them understand? “How can I agree with you? I have too much evidence to the contrary.”

  “Who would say such a thing to you?” Constance cried.

  “You!” When they stared at her, Katherine rushed on. “Eric complains endlessly that I manage him. Constance encourages me to pursue more womanly activities as if managing this house is somehow unmaidenly. And Sir Richard tells me he must take over my responsibilities as if somehow it is wrong of me to do them when I am far better at them than he is.”

  Her voice had risen with each sentence. She sounded like a veritable shrew! She pressed her lips together to hold back the frustration, but she knew her eyes were daring them to disagree with her. Her uncle regarded her sadly, and Constance stared at her with tears in her own eyes. She couldn’t stand their pity. For the first time in her life, she fled.

  She was thankful they did not immediately follow her to the room she shared with Constance, leaving her to sob her heart out alone. She should not have lost her temper with them. They only spoke the truth. This drive she felt to line things up nicely and neatly was a curse. She could not fix the world’s problems, she could not fix their problems. She couldn’t even fix her own.

  But crying had never helped much. The tears let out her anger, but they could not relieve the weight on her heart. Even in trying to force Alex to see her as she was, she had lied. She let him think she sought him for herself. It wasn’t so very different from the truth, she supposed. She had not trusted him to make the decision she wanted, and so she had set out to manage him to her wishes. She could not help it that her wishes had changed along the way.

  It was not long before her natural inclination to order reasserted itself. She sat up from where she lay crying and wiped the tears off her cheeks. She had work to do. Like it or not, her management skills would be needed if they were to remove themselves from London for the country. She had a house to find, furniture to sell or give away, clothes and belongings to be packed. It was going to take a great deal of work to leave town. It might even be enough to help her forget Alex.

  But she doubted that.

  She had washed her face and tidied her hair by the time there was a tap at her door. When she called admittance, Eric poked his head in.

  “Are you ready for company?”

  She smiled. “Certainly. What do you need?”

  He made a face, wandering into the room. “Must I need something? Can’t I just wish to be with you?”

  “Certainly,” she repeated. She waited for him to come further into the room, but he stopped at the end of her bed, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. With a smile, she moved to his side and hugged him. With a pang, she noted that his head came just under her chin, when it had been at her breastbone only months before. He was growing up. What a shame they would never be able to send him to Eton or Oxford or give him any of the other advantages their father and stepfather would have wanted.

  As Eric pulled away from her, his face was screwed up in obvious guilt.

  “All right,” she said, putting hands on her hips. “Out with it. What have you come to confess?”

  “Nothing!” he protested, head shaking vehemently. When she continued to regard him, he shrugged. “Oh, all right. I lied. I do need you. We need you. There’s something you must see in the War Office.”

  Katherine shook her head. “I have no desire to go there ever again. You may tell Bixby to pull down the pins and burn the notes.”

  “May I help?” he asked eagerly.

  “Of course. But help only. We hardly need bonfires in the attic.”

  She thought that would put an end to the matter, but he took her hand and gave it a tug. “Please, Katherine, come with me. I promised I’d bring you, and a gentleman does not go back on his word.”

  His determination only reminded her of Alex. She resisted his pull. “What is all this about?”

  He only tugged harder, managing to make her feet slide on the carpet. “Just come and you’ll see.”

  She wanted to continue resisting, but she somehow doubted he would relent. He was too much like her in that regard. Reluctantly, she let him lead her back to the scene of her defeat. Constance, Sir Richard, Emma, and Bixby were waiting for her just inside the door to the War Office.

  “What is this?” Katherine demanded.

  Sir Richard snapped a salute and stood at attention with a grimace at the pain it obviously caused his leg. “Simply continuing our duty, Colonel. As you can see, we have another person under surveillance now.”

  She frowned, peering into the room. The arrangement of the papers had been changed. Moving closer, she saw that they were fresh sheets, hastily scrawled, the ink still dripping in places. She spotted Constance’s elegant scroll, her uncle’s scrawl, and Eric’s painstakingly correct lettering. She could not tell what they intended.

  “Who?” she asked. “Why?”

  “I shall take the last question,” Sir Richard replied, “and let the others take the first. The person in question is acting against her best interests and, as caring individuals, we must intervene.”

  Her brow cleared. “I have given up interfering with Constance’s life. This is not necessary.”

  “I disagree,” Constance put in with a smile. “I am not the person in question. This person is far more essential to the wellbeing of this family.”

  “Or at least just as essential,” Sir Richard amended. “She keeps me from making a fool of myself on a regular basis.”

  Katherine offered him a small smile and started to protest, but the others were obviously not about to let her get a word in.

  “She encourages me to take on responsibilities,” her brother added proudly, “so that I may grow up to be a respected gentleman. That is a very good thing, even if I do grouse about it from time to time.”

  Katherine reached out to ruffle his hair. He ducked under her hand with a grin.

  “She be none too proud to take up a kettle or sewing needle to help her family,” Emma put in with a proud
smile. “She does what’s needed to see they be cared for, regardless of her own wishes.”

  Katherine found it harder to smile, even though her heart wished to do so.

  Bixby had no such difficulties. “And she’s not above a bit of danger,” he added with a grin. “Particularly for the sake of others. She didn’t balk at chasing a spy about in the dark. Nor did she balk at serving beside an old man who should have been put out to pasture long ago. She made him feel useful, gave him a purpose, a bit of excitement to liven up his retirement.”

  “And she helped a blind man see,” Sir Richard said, stepping up to take her hand as she felt her tears start anew. “And a lame man realize he had more to give his country, and his family, than a pair of legs.”

  “You make me sound a saint,” Katherine said with a sniff. “I assure you I am not.”

  “Neither are you such a dark sinner,” her uncle protested. “Your gift is administration, my dear. You may not always use it to its best advantage, but your heart is in the right place.”

  She could not seem to let the matter go so easily. “But I interfere with your lives.”

  “We understand that you do it because you care about us,” Constance answered her. “We are quite capable of telling you when you go too far.”

  “Yes,” Katherine said, remembering, “you do that rather well.”

  “There you have it then,” Sir Richard maintained. “Don’t see your ability as an evil, Katherine. In fact, if I remember my schooling, the Bible says it is no less than a gift from God.”

  Katherine stared at him. “Truly?”

  “Truly. Perhaps I can find you the reference.”

  “1 Corinthians 12:28,” Constance supplied helpfully.

  From off in the distance came the sound of the door knocker.

  “Duty,” Bixby said. He squeezed her shoulder, then hurried from the room.

  Constance, Emma, and Eric encircled her.

  “We just wanted you to know how we feel, Miss Katherine,” their housekeeper murmured, eyes bright. “Any man would be lucky to have ye, and that’s a fact.”

  “And we are lucky to have you,” Constance assured her, giving her a hug.

  Katherine laughed through her tears. “And I am lucky to have all of you. Thank you for reminding me of that.”

  Sir Richard patted her shoulder. “Then let’s have no more of these tears. Let us put our energies into discussing this matter with Lord Borin.”

  Katherine’s smile faded as they pulled away. “It is impossible. I closed that door.”

  “And he slammed it,” Eric muttered.

  “Then let us open a window,” Constance insisted. “There must be some way to reach him.”

  “We know enough about him,” Eric mused. “We must have something we can use.”

  “Not again,” Katherine said. “I’m learning that there are places to apply this so-called gift and places to leave it aside. I will not use any information we gathered about Lord Borin to appeal to him.”

  “Simply telling him you love him might be sufficient,” Constance offered.

  “At the very least the man deserves to hear the whole truth,” Sir Richard added. “I did not succeed in overhearing everything in that library, but I gather you were not completely candid with the fellow.”

  Katherine sighed. “No, I let him think I was trying to trap him into marriage for myself. That was wrong of me. I wanted him to see me for myself, but in the end I suspect I simply could not bear him to reject me for myself.”

  “I shall speak to him,” Constance said bravely. “I will tell him the truth. He knows I have no reason to lie.”

  “I rather think he suspects we all lied to him,” Katherine pointed out. “Oh, I made a mull of things!”

  Before anyone could comment further, Bixby dashed back into the room, panting. He held out a sealed note to Sir Richard.

  “From the War Office,” he managed to gasp. “Urgent. That’s his nibs’ own hand. The fellow who brought it wouldn’t wait for a reply.”

  Frowning, Sir Richard stepped away to break the seal.

  Katherine exchanged glances with Constance and Emma. She saw in their gazes that they knew something was wrong as well. “Eric,” she said, “why don’t you go downstairs with Emma and see if you can find some sweets for tea.”

  “Aw, I never get to hear the good stuff,” he complained, but Emma chuckled, took his hand, and led him out.

  Katherine stepped to her uncle with Constance beside her. “Bad news?”

  “The worst.” He turned to sweep them all with his gaze, and Katherine caught her breath at the concern written there. “Hastings promised to let me know if he had reason to suspect Lord Borin of espionage,” her uncle explained. “This note was to tell me that Borin has been called to the War Office for questioning.”

  Katherine threw up her hands. “They cannot suspect him of this spy business.”

  Sir Richard met her outraged gaze. “They suspect him,” he replied, “of treason.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alex leaned back in the leather-bound armchair of the Marquis of Hastings’ private office in Whitehall. He did not dare consult the pocket watch in his tastefully embroidered celestial blue waistcoat. Besides, he was certain that time had stood still since he had received the summons.

  Lord Hastings gave him no clue to his thoughts. The marquis’ deep brown eyes, however, remained on Alex’s face. Alex felt the seconds ticking off. He heard Davis Laughton, who stood guard behind the marquis, shift impatiently in his brown coat.

  “I regret, my boy,” Lord Hastings said, “that I can no longer rely simply on your word as a gentleman that you are not involved with this foreign spy affair. We heard from someone who swears to your involvement.”

  Alex reminded himself to remain cool. Losing his temper had nearly cost him Katherine. Losing it now could cost him his life. “And who told you this?” he asked Hastings. “Am I not allowed to know the name of my accuser?”

  Hastings was equally calm. “Normally, yes. However, the note came anonymously. I hope to shortly remedy that situation, but at the moment, it is all we have to go on.”

  “Yet you accept the word of this unknown person over mine?” Alex tried to keep his tone level, but his irritation must have been evident for Hastings sighed.

  “Dashed irregular, I grant you,” the marquis said, “but we are faced with dire times. Napoleon is becoming desperate with his recent losses on the Peninsula and the Austrian front. If you believe even half of the rumors circulating, we have spies everywhere.”

  “I commiserate on the difficulties that must present you,” Alex replied. “But surely you know me well enough to vouch for my honor.”

  “On other occasions I would be only too delighted. But this particular report is quite damaging. It is specific, and concerns information we know for a fact has reached the French.”

  A chill swept over him. “Someone seeks to deflect the blame from himself to me.”

  “Quite possible,” Hastings agreed. “Allow me to ask you a few questions. I am certain you will clear your name easily and be back to that important appointment with your tailor in no time.”

  “My tailor isn’t that important,” Alex muttered, but he nodded for the marquis to continue.

  Hastings leaned forward as if by doing so he could smell the truth of Alex’s answers. “Have you been approached by anyone suspicious?”

  “No.”

  “Have you hired any new servants?”

  “No.”

  “Is there any reason you might be blackmailed?”

  Alex scowled. “None whatsoever.”

  “What do you recall of the Willstencraft ball?”

  He cocked his head. That was an odd question to throw in. The specifics Lord Hastings had spoken of must have to do with the event. He tried to remember anything different, but aside from his interactions with Katherine and her stepsister, it had been no better or worse than any other Society event that Seas
on.

  “Half the ton attended,” he offered. “The music was tedious, refreshments abysmal. Lady Janice’s gown will likely set a new trend in low necklines, though few gentlemen appeared to mind. I imagine a grand time was had by all.”

  Hastings’ gaze bore into him. “You noticed nothing out of the ordinary?”

  “Aside from the fact that you had Trevithan and Laughton watching the flock for wolves? No, not really.”

  He smiled. “Noticed them, did you? Very observant. Did anyone approach you?”

  Alex raised a brow. Someone at the ball had passed secrets then. He was certain it was no one he knew. “I had any number of friends and acquaintances in attendance,” he told Hastings. “At one time or another, they each approached me.”

  “To be sure. Allow me to be more specific. Trevithan reports that twice you disappeared for protracted periods. He confirms that at least once you were out on the terrace, but he could not identify your partner. Care to enlighten me as to what occurred?”

  The two periods were obviously when he had been with Miss Templeman and Katherine. He glanced at Davis Laughton. The young spy was examining a thread that held a shiny gold button to his chamois waistcoat. He acted as if he had no interest in the conversation, although Alex was certain he was listening to every word. Surely he was used to keeping state secrets. Would he value a lady’s reputation as highly? Alex wasn’t sure he could take the chance.

  “I was with a lady,” he replied to Hastings. “Surely you will understand that I cannot say more.”

  Hastings’ face was grave. “And I am certain you will understand that I cannot let you hide behind that excuse.”

  “Then perhaps I should find another,” Alex quipped. “My memory is foggy, my lord. I do not recall what I did or with whom I did it. The penalty for having entirely too many ladies dangling at once, I fear.”

  His lordship frowned. “This is no game, Borin. Your ability to tell us what happened during those moments is critical to proving your innocence.”