Given that he had spilled all his secrets in sordid detail, Catt didn’t believe so. But if she wanted to listen to his prattle, he wished her luck.
As they stepped out of the manor, the cold air wrapped around them. The day was still, the clamor of work and rattle of carriage wheels a distant sound. Small specks of snow danced in the air, making Catt feel as though he was inside a snow globe. The snow crunched beneath his boot as he strode toward the stables with Rocky at his side.
As they stepped into the interior, David hailed them from a stall. Rocky separated from Catt with a broad smile that might even be considered flirtatious. She never flirted. The fact that a stranger could bring that smile to her face, even in artifice, when Catt could not made him bristle.
You could have told her that you wanted to kiss her.
No. It hadn’t been an option. With her chin and shoulders so set, she’d obviously been ready to do battle with him over the insult. She wouldn’t welcome his advances. Logically, he knew she wouldn’t welcome David’s either, that she was only putting on an act to put the man at ease, but he couldn’t help but feel defensive.
The unfortunate fact was that he did want to kiss her, desperately. If only he could find a way to steal a kiss without having her hate him afterward…
Turning away, he focused on the assignment, not on his personal feelings. He didn’t have time to wrestle with that kind of inner turmoil. Britain needed him.
He approached Hollander, who finished rubbing down a gelding and led him into a nearby stall. The man spared him barely a glance as he checked on the water level in the trough in the stall.
Catt leaned against the post next to the stall, trying to look casual. “It’s been quite the hectic week. Are you always so busy delivering flowers in the dead of winter?”
Hollander grunted. “Sometimes.”
He didn’t contribute anything else to the conversation.
Catt tried again. “It doesn’t leave you with very much energy at the end of the day. I know I’ve been falling into bed at the first opportunity. Can’t a man get a little time to himself?”
He tried for a friendly smile. It and his words went unanswered as Hollander inspected the buckles on the gelding’s halter.
“I wonder how David finds the time to keep his ladylove happy.”
Hollander didn’t appear interested in that conversation, either. He patted the gelding’s neck and moved to the next stall to check on the horse occupying it.
“Do you have time to pursue a lady?”
That sounded like an odd, prying question, but Catt couldn’t very well take it back now that it had emerged into the open air. He tried not to grimace.
Hollander met the question with a peevish expression and a muttered, “No.” His tone clearly indicated that he would prefer to end the conversation and return to work.
Perhaps that was the problem. When David had opened up to Catt last week, he’d done it at the pub, not in the stables. Catt tried for an air of camaraderie as he said, “Now that the deliveries are over for the day, I was going to head down to the local pub. Care to join me?”
The other man looked down the bridge of his nose at Catt. “I think David’s the one you ought to ask for that.”
Across the stables, David’s laughter cut short as he heard his name. “What’s this now?” He stepped closer, Rocky trailing him. She wore a look of distaste at being interrupted.
Had she managed to get David to open up more than Catt had? Lud, he almost hoped not. She would lord it over him for the rest of the assignment.
Hollander said, “Catterson here wants to go to the pub.”
With a broad grin, David clapped Catt on the shoulder. “That’s my man. You know I’m always up for a pint. Let’s leave this stodgy old man to his own devices, eh?”
Hollander wasn’t terribly older than David, ten years at most. He looked irritated as he got back to work.
Catt shot a look over his shoulder at Rocky. She wore a smirk as she said sweetly, “You boys have fun.” She turned her attention to Hollander.
Blast her! She was going to usurp his suspect. And, now that he’d suggested visiting the pub, there was no way he could back down.
Leading him out of the stables, David started to babble about his escapade the night before. Catt suspected it was going to be a very long afternoon.
Hollander didn’t seem in a talking sort of mood after his conversation with Catt, so Rocky bided her time. When Catt returned from the pub, irritated, he seemed surprised that she hadn’t capitalized on her time alone with the hostler.
She frowned. “I’m not daft, you know. You obviously didn’t make any headway with him. If anything, he seemed annoyed by your presence. Talking to him then would have been pointless.” She’d tended to some of the plants instead, keeping an eye through the frosty glass wall of the hothouse as she tried to glimpse movement in the stables. It was how she’d been alerted to Catt’s return.
They lingered in the hallway that ended with a closed door, the closest to the stables. If either David or Hollander were to enter the manor to warm themselves—despite the brazier in the stables, a chill clung to the building—the easiest way would be through this door. Catt shucked his outerwear and wiped his boots on the mat as they spoke.
He raised his eyebrows. “So when do you intend to speak with him? Assuming, of course, that you do.”
She scowled. “I can do a sight better than you did. I’ll wait for him to warm himself. He’ll be more willing to linger in the warmth of the manor, especially so close to the kitchen.”
“Do you plan to wait here with a pot of tea and a hot biscuit?”
She grimaced at his sarcasm. “Do you have a better idea?”
He offered none and had no new information about David that he was willing to impart. She stepped to the side, happy to let him pass in order to put away his winter wear. Her side prickled with awareness as he passed. She rubbed her arms, trying to banish the uncomfortable sensation, and found a position in the doorway of an empty parlor opposite the kitchen. If any of the servants ventured in this corner of the manse, she could duck into the parlor for a moment to remain unnoticed.
It wasn’t long after David returned to the stables that Hollander thought to make an escape. The door leading outdoors let in a flurry of snow, a blast of cold air, and one impassive man. If he hadn’t had such a stiff manner of bearing, he might have been handsome. He kept himself clean-shaven—unlike David, who perpetually missed some of his chin whiskers each morning—and maintained a tidy appearance. Normally, that was the sort of thing that Rocky might consider attractive. It was certainly better than portraying oneself as a disheveled slob.
And yet…with his neat appearance and manner of bearing, Hollander seemed to fade from the mind, almost as though he was a fixture of the décor. His appearance showed little personality and even less encouragement for someone to approach him.
Catt, while sometimes less than pristine with his appearance, drew the eye. The way his hair sometimes stuck out and his cravat sometimes hung askew were both indicators of his brilliant mind. He was too busy thinking to realize that his appearance had strayed from the tidy way he’d arranged it upon rising.
While she was busy comparing Hollander’s form with that of a man she would be better not to contemplate, he noticed her in the doorway to the parlor and nodded to her cordially. He moved toward the kitchen.
She blocked his path. “It’s frigid outside, wouldn’t you say?”
Perhaps not the most brilliant conversation starter, but it delayed his departure for a moment. He even gifted her with a smile and said, “Indeed. Though I much prefer today than when the wind roars.”
She nodded in sympathy. “You have to be out in the cold, on that driver’s seat, for hours on end. It must be torture. At least I spend the bulk of her time in the hothouse.”
“Fetching bouquets is a welcome change,” he agreed.
Although he seemed warmer to her than he had
with Catt earlier, this conversation wouldn’t precisely ease her mind in terms of her objective. Was he Monsieur V? Maybe she should try flirting to see if that loosened his tongue a bit more.
She feathered her fingers over his sleeve, a bit wet from the flurries clinging to the wool. With a warm smile—the kind she would never give Catt—she purred, “It sounds as though you could use someone to snuggle up to on those long journeys.”
She had never in her life been so brazen. Listening to the words erupt from her mouth chased heat into her cheeks. What was she saying? She wouldn’t be able to go through with the suggestion if Hollander did accept. And if he didn’t…
Raising his eyebrow, he looked over her shoulder, then stepped back. The cool demeanor he’d given Catt slipped back into place and he sidestepped her form in order to arrow for the kitchen.
“Fortunately, I have a moment or two between deliveries to come and warm myself in the kitchen. If you don’t mind, I’m chilled to the bone.” Tipping his head to her cordially, he didn’t wait for her response but escaped into the next room.
When Rocky turned around, she found Catt standing down the hall, having returned from stowing away his outerwear. His expression was impassive. Rocky’s stomach turned to lead as she realized that he’d witnessed her failure to seduce the information out of Hollander.
With a scowl, she stormed down the hall toward her partner. He fell into step behind her and they entered the hothouse seconds later. When she turned to him again, the impassive expression had turned to one that looked hauntingly close to amusement.
“Did you learn anything?”
She glowered at him. “You know very well that I didn’t. He only ran off because you interrupted him.”
That sobered Catt’s expression. “Forgive me for getting in the way.” His voice had an edge to it like steel.
What was troubling him? He wasn’t the one who had embarrassed himself trying to flirt. She’d practically asked a stranger and potential traitor to warm her bed and she’d still somehow been turned down. She didn’t even want to romance Hollander, but his evasion stung nonetheless. If a man came along who she wanted…
She cleared her throat, returning to the topic at hand. “He was warmer toward me than he was toward you.”
“I bet he was.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She bristled and stepped closer to face him toe-to-toe. His back was to the hothouse door, so he had no escape unless he groped for the door handle. Catt wasn’t one to back down from an argument, however. In this case, he had instigated it.
His blue eyes glittered in the wan light sifting from the windowpanes. He opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver a scathing retort.
Instead, his gaze dropped somewhere in the vicinity of her mouth. Was her chin wobbling? She firmed it, not wanting to show any sign of weakness or uncertainty over the scene that had just transpired.
Softly, he said, “I meant only that he is a man. Any man when faced with your wiles would be warmer than if he spoke to me.”
Had he not seen her failed flirting attempt? She wouldn’t precisely call that reception a warm one.
She batted a strand of hair away from her cheek. Glancing away, she muttered under her breath, “You might want to tell that to Hollander.”
Catt caught her gaze and held it. His expression was intent. “You’re a beautiful woman, Rocky. I thought you knew that.”
She hadn’t. At least not in any useful way. Truthfully, she’d never given much thought to her physical appeal. She wasn’t out to attract a husband, so what should it matter?
Suddenly, it mattered. A warmth spread through her at the compliment, and she averted her gaze. She didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t often that a man complimented her beauty. Catt never had before.
For a moment, it seemed as though he wanted to say something else. He raised his hand halfway to her shoulder, then lowered it again at his side. He flexed and released his fist. The silence stretched on between them.
She took a small step back, struggling to recall what it was they were talking about. The thick floral scent of the hothouse didn’t help. It made her head a bit fuzzy.
Or maybe that was due to Catt’s nearness.
He cleared his throat, drawing her attention once more. “It appears if we want to get information about Hollander, we’ll have to go about it some other way. He doesn’t seem likely to open up to us.”
Rocky narrowed her eyes as a thought occurred to her. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? “Not so fast. I have a secret weapon.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You do?”
Rocky smiled. “Felicia gave it to me months ago.” For a very different purpose.
Now she was finally going to get to use it.
Chapter 14
Rocky gritted her teeth as she opened the door a crack. She braced herself against the frigid cold evening. The night air clawed at her as if trying to draw her out into it. Given her druthers, she’d rather be warm in bed.
Instead, she and Catt perched near the side door of the manor facing the stables as they waited for Hollander to return. What was taking him so long? This seemed like an awful late hour for Lady Belhaven to send him on an errand.
“How much later can David stay away?” Rocky muttered under her breath. She adjusted the bodice of her dress again, deliberately showing off the swell of her cleavage. It was dark enough in the corridor that she hoped Catt wouldn’t notice her nervous fiddling.
What if Felicia’s gift didn’t work? Rocky would have nothing but her own wiles to fall back on, and the experience earlier that day had proven to her that those held little sway over her prey.
In a dry voice, Catt said, “Given the level of detail David imposed on me when describing his hopes for this evening, I doubt he’ll be back any time soon.”
But would Hollander? That was the question. Rocky hadn’t expected him to be away this long, even if Lady Belhaven had mentioned something earlier about sending a man on an errand. Supper had long since passed. It must be ten or eleven of the evening.
When she peeked out the door for what felt like the twentieth time, she was just in time to watch the tail of a closed coach pull into the stables. She shut the door, warming herself a moment before she inevitably had to brave the cold. She didn’t want to wear her pelisse and risk losing some of her allure or muffling the perfume she now dabbed onto her wrists.
“How do I look? Alluring?”
Rocky doubted that very much. She wasn’t skilled enough to fashion her hair in one of the comely coiffures worn by the Graylocke women. She owned no cosmetics and her dresses were plain at best. The only advantage she held was the perfume Felicia had given her, the one that purportedly made men fall in love—or at least in lust.
She fidgeted with the line of her bodice and decided that she didn’t want to know Catt’s answer, after all. “Is the perfume working?”
“You look the same as you always do.”
Then…no.
He fiddled with his cravat, wiggling one finger beneath to loosen it. “I don’t see how a perfume is going to change anything.”
Definitely no effect, then. Did she have to wave it in front of his face in order for him to catch the scent? Her cheeks heated at the thought and she was grateful for the darkness. Maybe she’d try it on Hollander and hope for the best.
“It isn’t just any perfume. It’s Felicia’s special love perfume, the one she peddles…or used to. She assured me it works, to incite lust if nothing else.”
It must work. After all, Felicia had managed to ensnare Gideon’s affections when he’d remained aloof for so long. Rocky had begun to think him uninterested in love, marriage, or even women. Apparently, all he’d needed was to find the right woman to lure his attention away from his plants all the time.
Rocky spent a lot of time with plants. It was her job. Did that mean that she should start looking for the right man? Shaking her head to banish the thought, she raised h
er wrist to her nose and sniffed. She caught a faint whiff of musk, but it could have been her imagination. Felicia had warned her to use no more than a few drops at her pulse points. More would overpower the senses.
For a moment, Catt remained silent. He seemed stiff, but it was difficult to tell without being able to make out his expression. “I don’t see how inciting Hollander to lust will help the situation.”
“It will loosen his tongue.” Or so she hoped.
“If you say so…”
Catt didn’t sound convinced, but she didn’t have time to argue with him. Not if she wanted to take advantage of the fact that Hollander was alone. She adjusted her bodice one last time, muttered, “Wish me luck,” and exited into the bracing cold.
No more snowflakes fell from the still air but the chill was enough to raise gooseflesh over her exposed skin. She balled her hands in her skirt and lifted it clear of the snow as she picked her way to the stables. The lantern outside the door beckoned her forward with a pool of yellow light. She took a deep breath and slipped inside, leaving the door ajar slightly in case she needed to make a quick exit.
The inside of the stables wasn’t much warmer. The icy cold wasn’t quite as bone-deep, tempered by the musk of horses and hay and the bubbling warmth of a brazier in the corner. Hollander, unhitching the horses from the coach he’d parked along the back of the building next to a phaeton and curricle, glanced up as her footsteps echoed in the silence. He laid his hand on the bridle of one of the pair and led the horse into a stall. As he passed her, returning for the other, he said, “Miss Rockwood. I didn’t expect to see you out here at such a late hour.”
Perhaps the perfume didn’t work, after all. Or maybe it only worked on women as attractive as Felicia.
Unfortunately, Felicia wasn’t here to ply her wiles or Hollander would have spilled his secrets much more easily. Britain relied on Rocky, instead.
As she trailed him toward the coach and waiting horse, she tried her best to impersonate her best friend’s wife. Felicia could charm the shoes off a pony.
Charming the Spy (Scandals and Spies Book 4) Page 10
