A Spy Unmasked (Entangled Scandalous)

by Tina Gabrielle

  …

  Robert met Wendover in a private corner of a coffee shop on Fleet Street. He’d wasted no time in informing his superior of his theory.

  Wendover’s brow furrowed. “Counterfeiting is a serious offense against the King. You must be able to prove it.”

  “Now that I know the truth, I won’t be misled searching Delmont’s safes and pursuing a wrong theory. The entire house party was a wild-goose chase,” Robert said.

  The marquess sipped his coffee. “And you believe George Brass, a common jeweler and silversmith, talented enough to engrave counterfeit plates?”

  “He’s not a common jeweler. He works with his hands every day and deals with precious metals. His wife claims he is a talented engraver and can copy famous works of art,” he said.

  Wendover sighed. “If the bankers and the public learn of counterfeit banknotes, it could cause wide-spread panic.”

  Robert set his coffee cup down. “That’s what Haverton and his fellow murdered inventors knew. Delmont and the mastermind had them killed to keep their secret.”

  “What’s your next move?”

  “I’m setting a trap tonight at Falk and Maxwell’s factory.”

  The marquess leaned close. “What do you need from me?”

  “Two armed men to wait outside for my signal.”

  “I’ll arrange for it.”

  “There’s something else,” Robert said. “I need to you to look after Sophia while I’m gone. She worries unnecessarily.”

  “Of course. I’ll pay her a visit.”

  Robert nodded. “I’ll find sufficient evidence to incriminate Delmont and put an end to the secret group’s agenda. And I expect to unveil the identity of the mastermind. One way or another, this mission will come to an end.”

  Wendover regarded him gravely. “Then you’d best proceed with caution.”

  …

  Sophia stood in Robert’s bedchamber as he slipped a wicked-looking blade into his boot. He was dressed entirely in black, with form fitting trousers, Hessians, and a jet lawn shirt. The dark color made his sapphire eyes shine like a midnight sky.

  When he was finished, he looked at her. “It’s time,” he said simply.

  Her heart beat rapidly. She didn’t want him to go, didn’t want him to face danger. Unspoken words lodged in her throat and she swallowed.

  She nodded and followed him out of his room to the top of the landing. Her fingers clung to the ornate gilt railing leading down to the marble vestibule.

  He turned to leave.

  “Wait!” she cried out.

  He walked back to her and cradled her cheek with his hand. “We’ve been over this. I’ll be back before sunrise.”

  Despite her resolve to be strong, her voice wavered. “I know. It’s just…I want to go with you.”

  He chuckled softly. Placing a finger under her chin, he tilted her face upward. “As soon as I find the plates, I’ll send a signal to Wendover’s men, and we can go and arrest the guilty parties.”

  She took a deep breath, then blurted out the words. “I love you.”

  His expression shifted, an almost imperceptible flicker of emotion crossed his eyes.

  Had she made a mistake? Should she have kept quiet until after tonight’s mission? She didn’t want to disrupt his concentration.

  He slowly leaned forward and captured her lips in a gentle kiss that left her weak with longing.

  Lifting his head, he kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Robert blended with the shadows against the east side of the paper factory. Unlike this morning, the front door was locked. With his tools, he pried open a casement window and slipped inside the building.

  He lowered himself and landed agilely on his feet. He lit a candle from his coat pocket, and his eyes adjusted to the glow. The large rollers of the paper machine loomed before him. Stacks of felt were laid out on long tables.

  Crouching low, he stealthily crept through the building. He needed to find the printing press, where the forged plates would most likely be located. Crates of paper loomed in haphazard piles throughout the bowels of the factory. Several minutes later he located the press—a seven-foot-long handpress with a flat stone bed.

  He lifted the press’s platen, and his heart pounded at the discovery of two expertly engraved plates for the front and back of a hundred-pound note. He couldn’t help but admire Mr. Brass’s workmanship. The forged banknotes he had encountered in the past were shoddy and easily detectable as forgeries, but these…

  Every detail was meticulously copied from the signature to the serial number to the date. Combined with the high-quality wove paper, the forgeries would be excellent.

  Beside the press was a stack of wove paper that was similar to the paper that had come from the vat that both he and Sophia had found earlier at the stationers’. He held a sheet up to the candle’s light.

  His pulse raced. This paper had a watermark that repeated six times and read “The Bank of England.” Once the paper was fed through the printing press and carefully cut, each sheet would yield six banknotes.

  A perfect scheme. But when did they plan on delivering the forged notes?

  At the sound of the front door opening and voices, he slipped behind a shelf stacked with reams of paper and extinguished the candle.

  “Everything is ready.” He recognized Maxwell’s voice.

  “We ran into no problems.” Falk’s voice.

  They carried lanterns and set them down upon crates. Robert shifted to the side and glimpsed Viscount Delmont’s large frame through a space between the reams. A film of sweat covered Delmont’s face, and he paced back and forth before the press.

  “The delivery must be exactly as ordered,” Delmont said, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

  Robert pulled his pistol from his coat pocket. Wendover’s men would be in place by now. Soon he could return to Sophia. Hold her in his arms. Tell her his true feelings for her…

  “His lordship’s orders are precise. He is expected shortly, and we cannot afford another incident,” Delmont said tersely.

  “There won’t be another,” Falk said.

  His lordship? They must be speaking of the mastermind.

  At last, he thought. Let the villain show himself!

  …

  Sophia gave up pacing her bedchamber and went downstairs to her new workshop. She ran her hand over her father’s scarred worktable and breathed deeply. She planned to unpack boxes and crates and lose herself in her work while she waited for Robert to return. She’d never needed a distraction so badly.

  She started with her father’s tools, his hammers, wrenches, screwdrivers, and jars of nuts and bolts. She arranged them upon the table in order by size and importance. She had just dragged over a crate and started removing the fragile glass beakers when there was a light knock on the door.

  “Yes.”

  The door opened and Mr. Burke stood in the doorway. “The Marquess of Wendover is requesting to speak with you.”

  Her first thought was terrifying. What if something had happened to Robert? “Send him in at once,” she said.

  The butler must have sensed her alarm, for seconds later the marquess strode into the workroom.

  “Sophia!” he said.

  She flew to him and embraced her father’s old friend. “Why are you here? Is it Robert?”

  The marquess pulled his mouth in at the corners. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s happened to Robert. I’ve come to offer you comfort. I knew you’d be worried, and I was right. I want you to accompany me to my home until tonight’s events have passed.”

  “Are you certain all is well?”

  “All will be. Trust me. Now go fetch your cloak. My carriage is out front.”

  Minutes later, Wendover escorted her into his waiting carriage. Leaning back against the leather bench, he regarded her thoughtfully. “I was good friends with your father, you know.”

  “I know, my lord.”
>
  His eyes were shadowed by thick brows. “I was just as upset at his passing as you.”

  She didn’t think anyone could have been as upset as his only child, but she held her tongue. He was acting out of sorts tonight, but then perhaps the stress was affecting him as well.

  She glanced out the window just as the driver turned a corner, heading into an unfamiliar part of the city.

  She frowned. “I thought we were going to your home.”

  “We need to make a quick stop first.”

  “Where?”

  The carriage had passed the last town house and left the residential neighborhood. Without the hustle and bustle of pedestrian traffic, the streets were eerily quiet, until the distinctive stench of the river wafted through the window. A sliver of moonlight reflected off the water, illuminating the masts of tall ships.

  She blinked in surprise. “We’re headed for the docks?”

  “Yes.”

  “Robert is in danger then!”

  “Not yet, my dear, but soon.”

  More than just his tone was strange now. “What on earth do you mean?” She whirled to face him and was shocked to see him holding a pistol, the barrel aimed at her chest.

  Her unease exploded into alarm. She gasped as a heart-wrenching awareness struck her. “You! You’re the mastermind!”

  “You always were too astute for your own good, Sophia.”

  “But you’re Robert’s superior at the Home Office. You work for the Crown!”

  “And I will continue to do so once he is disposed of.”

  “And what about my father? You were supposed to be his good friend.”

  His lips thinned with a cynical twist. “I was. I offered him admittance in our secret group. I even had a gold gear made for him and he snubbed me. I had no choice but to have him disposed of. And you,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “You are just like him, too righteous for your own good. He could have been as wealthy as Croesus, he could have had unlimited funds for his inventions, could have hired assistants to aid him in his workshop. But did he listen to me? No! He threatened to expose me, expose everyone involved. I had no choice.”

  “You had him murdered!”

  His features twisted into a maddening leer. “As his offspring, you turned out to be just as meddling. You were supposed to be in prison for the attack on George Brass, but I should have known Robert would come to your aid. He was always very resourceful.”

  A flash of pure rage ran down her spine. “You’re nothing but a greedy thief. A murdering, greedy thief.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You know nothing, my dear.”

  To her horror, he pulled out a length of rope from beneath the seat and laid the pistol on the bench. Before she could lunge for the weapon, he grasped her arm in a painful grip and yanked her close.

  She fought fiercely, kicking and scratching. He grunted as she kicked his shin and landed a blow on his ear, but his strength overpowered hers. He tied her arms behind her back and stuffed a gag in her mouth.

  The carriage came to a stop and the door opened. He dug the pistol into her side. “It’s time, Sophia,” he said as he hauled her out and dragged her inside the factory.

  …

  Robert remained crouched behind the tall shelf while observing the three men.

  “Open this one,” Delmont ordered, pointing to a crate that had been nailed closed.

  Falk rushed to comply and Delmont held up a bundle of banknotes. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” he said in a reverent tone as he raised the banknotes to his nose and made a show of smelling them.

  “Let’s get them out of here,” Maxwell said.

  “Not until his lordship arrives,” Delmont said.

  Robert’s pulse quickened. He raised his pistol and stepped into the light. “Shall we wait together until his lordship arrives?”

  The three men whirled at the sound of his voice. Falk and Maxwell looked paralyzed with fear.

  Viscount Delmont’s lips curled in a slow smile. “Well, well. I was wondering how long it would take for you to make an appearance tonight.”

  Maxwell and Falk exchanged stunned looks. Robert read them instantly; they had no idea of his involvement. But Delmont appeared to know and a prickle of unease pierced his spine.

  “It’s over, Delmont. Armed men are waiting outside. You’ll be arrested and tried for your crimes and so will your ringleader as soon as he shows his face,” Robert said.

  Delmont laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it, Kirkland.”

  Again Robert’s instincts heightened and he turned at the sound of a scuffle of footsteps on the wood floor. A muffled groan followed.

  His eyes widened in alarm as the Marquess of Wendover came into the light hauling a gagged and bound Sophia behind him. He held a pistol to her side.

  “You should listen to the viscount, Robert,” Wendover said.

  Robert’s gaze flew from Wendover to Sophia. Her green eyes were wide with fear, and his heart stopped.

  He turned to the marquess. “Tell me it’s not true.”

  Wendover’s face was hard, cruel, and pitiless as he thrust Sophia onto a crate and pointed his pistol at her head. “I’m afraid it’s true.” With a jerk of his head, he motioned to Robert’s pistol. “Now drop your weapon or she’s dead.”

  Robert had little choice but to comply and he slid his weapon across the wooden floor. He glared at Wendover with murderous fury. “Why?” he demanded.

  “Sophia stated it quite bluntly in the carriage ride here. Greed. The opportunity presented itself; it was the perfect crime. The talent offered in the Inventors’ Society was unparalleled. Mr. Brass’s engraved plates are better than the Crown’s master plates, and Maxwell and Falk’s paper is indistinguishable from any official banknote.”

  Delmont, sneering at Robert, approached with a length of rope. He bound Robert’s hands behind him and shoved him onto another crate, back-to-back with Sophia.

  As soon as they touched, he felt Sophia tremble. He feared Wendover would kill her, and his gut twisted. He couldn’t live through the murder of another of his wives, and Sophia’s death would be a thousand times worse than Gwendolyn’s. Sophia was his heart’s desire, and he couldn’t…wouldn’t allow her to come to harm.

  Reinforcements weren’t coming; he was on his own. He had to distract Wendover…buy himself time.

  “Why assign me the mission?” Robert asked. “Why have me look into the Inventors’ Society if you were the mastermind after all?”

  Wendover regarded him solemnly. “I had no choice. The secretary of the Home Office was demanding answers for the death of the inventors, including the Marquess of Haverton.” He glanced at Sophia. “I had to think of something and what better way than to connect the deaths to a secret group who stole their inventions and sold them to foreign militias for profit? I never thought you would discern our true counterfeiting scheme.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “An unfortunate turn of events.” Wendover glanced at Maxwell and Falk. “You two can go.” For once, the business partners didn’t argue but rushed toward the exit.

  He doesn’t want witnesses, Robert thought.

  He knew Delmont had been in deep debt and in need of funds to effectively run the Inventors’ Society and maintain his lavish lifestyle.

  But Wendover? No one knew much about the marquess’s personal life.

  Robert’s gaze narrowed upon his superior. “What about patriotism for your country?” he said tersely.

  “Napoleon is defeated. I did my duty,” Wendover said. “You don’t believe in patriotism either. You were going to leave the Home Office after you married Gwendolyn. I couldn’t allow it.”

  A feeling of cold dread settled in Robert’s chest. “What are you saying?”

  “You forced me to send Gwendolyn to DeForte that day. I couldn’t permit you to resign. I counted on you seeking revenge after her death, but you stubbornly insisted on leaving. It took a threat to one of your father’s friends to enti
ce you back into espionage.”

  Robert’s vision tunneled until all he could see was Wendover through a red haze of hate. He jerked against his bindings, his heart hammering. His lips peeled back from his teeth and he growled low in his throat. He wanted to attack like a wild animal, gravely wound the man he’d thought of as a close friend, his superior at the Home Office, who had betrayed him so badly.

  Someone firmly grasped his bound hands.

  Sophia.

  He became aware of her fingers urgently clutching his. Through sheer force of will, he took deep breaths and calmed his pounding heart. Now more than ever before he needed to concentrate, needed all his cunning and skill.

  Sophia’s life was at stake.

  Wendover and Delmont turned away to inspect the contents of one of the crates. Robert seized the opportunity, straining against his bindings once more—no longer in a rage—but in a calculated effort to reach into his boot. His fingers grazed the hilt of his blade.

  Time was running out.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Sophia felt Robert strain to the side and immediately understood his intent. The knife he’d stashed in his boot.

  Let me, she wanted to whisper, but the gag was firmly in her mouth.

  Wendover and Delmont were both occupied removing counterfeit banknotes from the crates and stuffing them into a canvas bag. Sophia shifted to the side and reached the blade in Robert’s boot.

  She was sweating as her fingers twisted and sliced at Robert’s bindings. With her hands bound behind her back, it was hard work. Several times the knife slipped and she feared she would cut him or drop the blade. Her efforts were finally rewarded when he snapped the frayed rope just as she was halfway through his bindings.

  Pivoting quickly, he removed the gag from her mouth and cut her bindings. He held a finger over his lips and mouthed, Stay still.

  Their task completed, Wendover approached holding the pistol. Delmont stood behind him with a bag of banknotes slung over his shoulder.

  “Robert, I’m disappointed that our working relationship must end this way. But again, you leave me no choice. I’ll see to Sophia first,” Wendover said.

  She watched in horror as Wendover pointed the pistol at her belly.