A Harmless Lie and a Dangerous Spy (Harmless/Dangerous Stories Book 1)

by Lori Bond

  “I realize that when we met, I knew nothing about your father’s network. I was a girl running away from an abominable marriage. It wasn’t the most organized running away, I admit, but it was towards a dream, even if that dream was bit more modest than most daughters of Earls.”

  At some point Caroline had stopped looking at him and had leaned on the rail of the deck, the better to observe the few stars peeking out from behind the thick cloud cover. One of those stars winked at them.

  “Now, though, I’ve discovered a whole world of intrigue and possibilities, a world you introduced to me, by the way.” Caroline gave him a quick smile before turning back to the ocean. She shrugged. “You realize it’s your fault if I find myself in danger now.”

  Caroline meant her comment to be lighthearted, but her words struck him in the chest like a bayonet to the heart. She was correct. He had been the one to draw her into all this simply because he liked her energy and cleverness. He hadn’t really been thinking of the dangers back on the train when he asked her to gossip on his behalf with the ladies of the ship. He hadn’t seriously considered the danger to her if the Russian agent caught her sniffing about.

  Something in his expression must have conveyed his growing horror, even in the poor light. Caroline touched his arm again, and this time she left her hand there. “Jerry, it was just a jest. I don’t blame you for exposing me to this affair. I thank you.”

  Jerry’s mouth fell open, but this time he wasn’t trying to speak.

  Caroline nodded with an earnestness he found endearing. He drew her a little closer, both to combat the chill of the deck and to reassure himself.

  “Oh, yes,” she responded as if he’d managed to speak. “These past few days have been some of the most exciting of my life. I’m not saying I want to do this forever,” she added, holding up a hand to stop his sputtering attempt to argue with her. “But I do want to do this for now. Olive and I both do,” she added, shocking him further. “We discussed it yesterday. And we will. The question really is whether you plan on partnering with us or whether we do this separately.” She rested her head on his upper arm, and he drew her closer, thinking.

  They stood there in silence for a moment, watching the star, low towards the invisible horizon, blink in and out.

  “There’s no talking you out of this?” he finally asked.

  Caroline shook her head against his arm.

  Jerry realized with relief that he didn’t have a choice, not really. He’d known numerous headstrong people in his life, and there was no turning them once their minds had been made. He had no doubt whatsoever that Caroline would continue her life of intrigue regardless of his blessing. With a sour expression, he realized that Mrs. Turnton would aid her even if he wouldn’t. Surely, she would be safer with him than operating alone? Besides, wouldn’t investigating with her be more pleasurable than without her?

  “All right,” he said. “I agree.”

  “To what?” Caroline didn’t seem to be listening anymore. Her eyes had narrowed, and her focus seemed to have moved from their conversation to the small speck of light appearing and disappearing in the distance.

  “I won’t try to shield you again. I promise to repress my protective instincts and not let my fears affect how I treat you.”

  She smiled, but her eyes never left the flashing light. “Very prettily said. I will hold you to it.” She stood silent for another moment. “I think there is something wrong with that light.” She pointed to the twinkling star close to the horizon.

  Jerry shrugged causing her head to bounce on his arm. “The wind must be blowing the clouds quickly over there.”

  Caroline frowned. “I don’t think so. The light is flashing on and off in various patterns. I don’t think it’s a natural phenomenon.”

  Jerry stopped watching her face and turned to the little light. It flashed a few more times and then disappeared. “Odd.”

  “Do you think it was a signal?”

  Jerry nodded. It was a slow kind of motion, one he barely noticed making. “It could have been Morse Code or even Semaphore. I’m not acquainted with either.”

  Caroline huddled closer. “Do you think it was a message?” she asked in a voice so low Jerry could hardly hear it over the waves.

  “Probably,” Jerry said, “but I don’t know if we can attach a sinister meaning to it. A ship may have been communicating with ours.”

  “I suppose.” They stood silently for a few more moments. There was a scrabbling sound behind them, but when Jerry turned, no one was there. He frowned, worried that perhaps someone had overheard them after all. They had been circumspect, even out here on what had appeared to be a deserted deck, but anyone with the slightest suspicion would have found their conversation alarming.

  When the light didn’t appear again, Caroline shook herself as if coming awake. “We should join dinner before Mrs. Turnton sends a search party after us.”

  Jerry smiled. “Agreed.” He gave her one last squeeze before offering her his arm. He escorted her back into the warmth of the ship’s interior.

  Chapter 35

  After such a fraught discussion, Caroline half expected the rest of the evening to be a tense affair, but nothing could have been further from the case. Jerry was solicitous and friendly. He seemed to have taken their conversation to heart. Not only was he no longer trying to shield her from danger, he almost seemed to actively court it.

  After a dinner where Mrs. Turnton seemed pleased by their reconciliation, he recommended that Caroline adjourn to the Women’s Parlor rather than joining him and the Turntons in the General Parlor. Jerry had asked her in such a pointed manner, that she had acquiesced, but she didn’t see his purpose until she entered the room.

  Unlike the General Parlor, the Women’s Parlor had a more refined atmosphere. Women clustered around small tables chatting while they worked on small projects like embroidery. Nestled in the back away from the chittering gossips sat Mrs. Kimbley. To Caroline’s surprise, the woman didn’t sip a genteel glass of after dinner sherry or from a cup of the ubiquitous tea that seemed to flood the Women’s Parlor. Instead, Mrs. Kimbley sat with a full decanter of whiskey that she seemed to be drinking by the glass.

  “Oh, it’s you,” the woman said when Caroline walked up. “Of course it would be. Come to ruin my marriage some more?”

  Caroline didn’t bother to hide her shock. She knew the Kimbleys had quarreled in the hold, something she shouldn’t have known, but their spat hadn’t seemed marriage ending. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’ve already married again.” Mrs. Kimbley slurred her words a bit, and Caroline wondered just how much the woman had already drunk. Dinner had just ended, and she couldn’t have gained the Parlor much before Caroline. “More fool you.”

  Caroline sat down and arranged her skirts on the chair. It gave her a moment to gather her thoughts and to avoid Mrs. Kimbley’s accusing eyes.

  “That idiot Bickle was talking about your marriage at dinner last night, tonight, some night.” Mrs. Kimbley’s voice trailed off for a moment before she seemed to remember the conversation. “Said he’d seen the marriage certificate and everything. Outraged he was that he’d paid a fortune to cross the ocean after the wrong girl.”

  Caroline did not let a hint of the smile she felt cross her lips. “I did tell him on the gangway I wasn’t the one he sought.” She gave her big-eyed innocent stare, but it didn’t meet with favor.

  “Just because you accidentally ruined his marriage didn’t mean you had to ruin mine.”

  Caroline opened her hands and gestured with barely feigned distress. “I’m not sure what I could have done to injure you and Mr. Kimbley, but I am sincerely sorry.”

  Mrs. Kimbley snorted, a thundering sound no doubt aided by the quantity of liquor she’d imbibed. “Your little hints and insinuations. You all but accused us of smuggling art.”

  “I did nothing of the sort.” Caroline widened her eyes as large as they would go, both to convey innocence and bec
ause the dimwitted Mrs. Wickingham would never have thought of something as inventive as art smuggling. “I merely shared a bit of gossip my maid shared with me. She had it from your husband’s valet that your room was filled with art.” Caroline lowered her voice as if inviting the woman into a confidence. “I thought to perhaps purchase my husband a piece of art for our new life together. I did not mean to overstep into your private life.”

  Mrs. Kimbley huffed and seemed to wave away Caroline’s words. Her eyes narrowed. “You said Mr. Kimbley’s valet started the rumors?”

  “He did confide in my maid, yes.”

  Mrs. Kimbley uttered a colorful curse ladies weren’t supposed to know. “Harold Bryce and his stupid wagers.”

  Caroline froze. She tried to not look too interested, but this might be the confirmation they sought—that Harold Bryce was Hillard. “Bryce?” Caroline attempted to sound disinterested.

  “It’s harder to know who is the bigger fool, my husband or Mr. Bryce,” Mrs. Kimbley said, though she seemed to be speaking more to herself than to Caroline. “Ever since the two met, they’ve been making stupid bets, silly wagers that serve no purpose beyond irritating me.” She gave Caroline an aggrieved glare.

  Caroline shook her head in sympathy, but she didn’t interrupt the stream of spite.

  “And this one, this latest wager, must be the most ridiculous of them all. Bryce maintained that he could fool an entire boatload of people that he was a servant. I can’t even remember how the debate came about, but they wagered fifty pounds on the outcome.”

  Caroline gasped, not faking her shock over such a sum of money.

  Mrs. Kimbley gave an irritated shrug. “Mr. Bryce would take the place of Mr. Kimbley’s man Hillard, and if no one called him out as a gentleman, he would win the wager. Silly idiots.” Mrs. Kimbley gave an almost fond smile, but her voice still showed her displeasure.

  Caroline chatted with the woman for a few more minutes, listening to her litany of complaints. She wanted to run from the room straight to Jerry and the rest with the confirmation of their suspicions, but she didn’t want to call attention to herself. Instead, she suffered through Mrs. Kimbley’s growing inebriation.

  Finally, she was able to extract herself from the situation. She glided from the room and headed towards the General Parlor, but Jerry and the Turntons were no longer there. She wondered if they had headed for the Second-Class Parlor again, like they had the first night. She wanted to go see, but they had agreed on the way to dinner that if they were ever separated, they would meet at her room. With the increased awareness of the danger, this had seemed like a wise contingency. Now, it seemed like a pain when she had such exciting news to share. She started down the main staircase and turned the corner into the empty hall that led to her room, irritated she couldn’t go search out Jerry at once. As she passed one of the doors, she thought she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to check, but there was a sharp pain to the back of her head, and the world turned to black.

  Chapter 36

  Jerry had watched Caroline enter the Women’s Parlor before turning to the Turntons. He had sent Caroline in there after catching a glimpse of a weaving Mrs. Kimbley headed for the back of that room. If the woman’s gait was any indication, she had been partaking heavily of dinner’s wine. She might just say something useful in her unguarded state. He had considered asking Mrs. Turnton to accompany Caroline, but he wanted to prove to Caroline, not only that he wanted her to still help with the mission, but that he still had confidence that she could tackle things alone.

  Beside him, the Turntons passed him and headed for one of the tea tables. The thought of spending the evening in Mrs. Turnton’s censorious company while he waited to see if Caroline had wormed any information from Mrs. Kimbley grated on Jerry’s nerves. He decided to head down and see if Wellburn had finished or if he required any help searching the Second-Class areas. Jerry glanced once more at Caroline settling herself in the seat across from Mrs. Kimbley, and then he headed down the two sets of stairs towards Second-Class.

  The Second-Class dining room was empty except for the stewards, still tidying up from the recently completed meal. Wellburn wouldn’t have been able to search this room during dinner, so Jerry wondered if he planned to leave it last of if he had already searched it earlier in the day.

  Jerry peeked into the nearly full Second-Class Parlor, but he didn’t see Wellburn. He hadn’t expected to find his man there, not when it would have been convenient to search it during dinner when it would have been empty. Olive stood smiling at a good-looking young man, hopefully Bryce. If she could keep the young man distracted, he wouldn’t stumble on Wellburn’s search for the plans.

  Jerry tried the Second-Class Smoking Lounge, but there was still no sign of Wellburn. Jerry tapped his fingers on the edge of the doorway back into the parlor. The Second-Class passengers had nowhere near as many public room as the First-Class passengers. Where could his man have gotten to?

  Olive must have seen him leaning in the doorway because she came out into the hallway. “Do you need me, my lord?”

  Jerry shook his head. “I’m trying to find Wellburn, but he isn’t in any of the places I expected him to be.”

  Olive bit the side of her bottom lip. “He brought me to dinner, but I haven’t seen him since.”

  “No matter. I’m sure he’s fine,” Jerry said with a forced smile he suspected looked less than genuine. “At least you seem to have matters well in hand.” He nodded at the handsome man that had been flirting with Olive before and now stood glaring daggers at them. “You seem to have captured Hillard’s interest.”

  Olive followed his glance and flushed. “He does seem interested,” she said with a small smile. “I suppose you can learn to flirt from novels after all.”

  Jerry laughed. “I will never malign the usefulness of novels again.”

  Olive grinned back, but then her face fell a bit. “That’s not Bryce, or at least it wasn’t the man called Hillard, that I was speaking with. That’s a young American returning home after a year studying the workings of the cloth mills in England. I have no idea where Mr. Hillard might be. He hasn’t been in any of the public rooms all night.”

  Jerry’s muscles tightened along his spine. He doubted that it was a coincidence that Bryce had foregone the public rooms this evening, not when they appeared to be closing in on him. Jerry had no idea how Bryce would have known, but if he was the Russian agent, then surely he would be resourceful. It was unlikely the Russians would have sent a complete amateur on such an important mission, even if Bryce had made some mistakes along the way.

  Wellburn’s absence from the Second-Class public rooms also began to feel sinister. There was no reason to be concerned, but the hairs on the back of Jerry’s neck began to lift all the same. He glanced around, but the hallway was empty, and there wasn’t anyone either eavesdropping or watching them.

  “I don’t like that Wellburn and Hillard are both absent,” Jerry said.

  Olive nodded, a slow movement that conveyed her uncertainty.

  “Why don’t we all gather in your and Caroline’s room.” Jerry tapped on the door frame for a moment still thinking. Then he turned and headed for the staircase, Olive at his side. “I’ll gather Mrs. Turnton and Lady Caroline from upstairs. If you do happen to see Wellburn, ask him to join us. I want to have a war council so to speak.”

  Olive nodded and hurried around the corner towards her room. Jerry headed up the next staircase to the upper deck housing the First-Class public rooms. A quick glance in both rooms showed that both the Turntons and Caroline had left their respective parlors. Jerry frowned, curious where everyone could have gone, when he spotted Mr. Turnton in the smoking room. A quick inquiry earned him the information that Mrs. Turnton had retired for the night. Mr. Turnton hadn’t seen Caroline leave the Women’s Parlor, but he hadn’t been watching for her. After enduring some good-natured ribbing about having misplaced his bride, Jerry hurried down the stai
rs to fetch Mrs. Turnton. Although he had meant it in good fun, Mr. Turnton’s comment about losing Caroline had left Jerry cold. Suddenly, he felt the need to make sure Caroline was safely in her room. Surely she would have headed there after she completed her interview with Mrs. Kimbley. It was what they had agreed.

  Jerry all but ran for Caroline’s room. He walked faster than was seemly but not so fast he drew undue attention. When she opened the door, Olive seemed surprised to find him alone.

  “Is she here?” Jerry asked, pushing past Olive to scan the stateroom.

  Olive’s brows lifted and then narrowed in concern. “No. Wasn’t she still upstairs?”

  Jerry frowned. “No. Will you check with Mrs. Turnton? Perhaps Caroline went to her room. It will be less odd if you are seen knocking on her door.”

  Olive nodded, understanding. She rushed from the room, leaving Jerry to pace the floor.

  Jerry forced himself to slow down. He was almost certainly overreacting. It was unlikely anything would have befallen either Caroline or Wellburn on the ship. They were still five days from New York. The Russian agent wasn’t going anywhere, and the man hadn’t shown himself a fool. He may have contrived to hide the plans, but he wouldn’t be able to hide the evidence if he harmed either Caroline or Wellburn.

  Jerry was a bit surprised to find that he felt equally worried for both. He had not realized just how much Wellburn had come to mean to him over the years. Caroline was the girl he loved, but Wellburn was just as much family as his own father. Jerry’s fists clenched and he had to make a conscious effort to relax them. Nothing could have happened to either one, or he would never forgive himself.

  Jerry didn’t think he could handle the suspense any longer when Mrs. Turnton bustled into the room. Her face was grim, but it was Olive’s pale face that gave Jerry the news even before Mrs. Turnton spoke.