The Fashionable Spy (17 page)

Turning her back on her patron, she dragged the stand to the left, closer to the desk and farther from the door, and quite out of his line of vision. “Just keep your eyes fixed on the same point. I am still here, even if you can’t see me.’’ She chuckled softly, pleased to be free of that penetrating gaze. There were moments when she felt certain that he could read her mind, and that was most disconcerting for a young woman. Especially one who entertained such scandalous thoughts at times.

Things were proceeding well. He had said nothing of last night, unless you considered his comment about her appearance to be an oblique reference to that rather shocking creation she’d worn then. Why had she not noticed how daring it was? She had seen nothing improper in the neckline when she had checked herself before her looking glass. Perhaps it happened when she moved. Or bent over. She frowned at that thought. While most would not bat an eyelash at her unusual locket with the lapis-lazuli iris, a spy might know the significance of it and wonder.

Her sigh was monumental at the very idea. She always wore the necklace. Although it was for her protection should she be uncovered as an agent, it had the secret purpose of reminding her why she had chosen this life. The miniatures of her parents served as inspiration when she was tempted to cease her spy activity.

There were men who gave their lives for their country, and seemed to do so willingly. She would sacrifice her interest in the one man who intrigued her, for she would not marry one who could betray his country. If Julia accepted Mr. Padbury, Victoria would see to it that Elizabeth made a good marriage. Then Victoria could retire to the country, perhaps in the Cotswolds, far from civilization.

“That sigh sounded extremely woeful, Victoria.”

His voice startled her, and she dropped the tiny tool she held in her hand. It clattered to the floor, sounding like a shot in the quiet of the room.

“Sorry, sir.’’ She stopped to pick up the tool, promptly returning to her work.

“May I inquire what brought it on?”

There was no reason why he couldn’t speak. She had managed before when her subject became tired of sitting in silence.

“What a pity we cannot have a musician here to play for you. Music is so soothing. Do you not think so?”

“So you will not discuss what is bothering you?”

Before she paused to realize that she was confiding in the dratted man, Victoria popped back, “I worry about my sister.”

“Mr. Padbury?”

She gasped. “Did he say something to you about offering for Julia’s hand?”

“No,” Edward admitted, “but it seemed a likely course. What about Miss Elizabeth? I doubt Leighton is serious, but perhaps there is someone else?”

Relieved to have someone with whom to discuss what concerned her, Victoria said, “She has taken Lord Leighton in the oddest dislike. I vow that I cannot for the life of me see why. But perhaps it is good she does not sigh over him. As to another, there are several who trail after her.”

“Perhaps she is afraid of marriage. There are women who fear intimacy.” His voice was impersonal, no coloring of his thoughts revealed.

“Sir Edward, I suspect you ought not say such things to me,” Victoria admonished. “I doubt that of Elizabeth, at any rate,” Victoria declared. “We shall see. She has promised me to consider marriage, however.”

“Do you mean you worry about the future of your sisters? They call you the Three Graces. Surely such accredited beauties need merely select the husbands they wish from the throng at their feet?”

“You sound like Elizabeth,” she muttered, while squinting at him to check her perspective.

“Does Miss Elizabeth think you ought to marry as well?”

Concentrating on the precise curve of his cheek, Victoria absently replied, “No. For it would be pointless.”

“Then you do not intend to marry?” His words were smooth, soft, and evenly said.

“Umm,” she murmured, quite satisfied that she had achieved his straight nose and the faintly arrogant jut of his chin.

“I believe that was a negative reply you gave me. What a pity.”

“Pity?” Her attention captured, Victoria glanced up, startled, to find he was looking at her with amused eyes.

“I am aware you do not wish to talk about last evening, but I feel it incumbent upon me to apologize for
my
actions. Not that I didn’t enjoy the kiss. I believe we both did, even if Colosseum lions couldn’t drag that snippet from you.”

“Indeed,” she murmured repressively, dropping her gaze down to the bust on the stand.

“Indeed,” he agreed, much to her annoyance. “Do you mean to tell me that you have some maggoty notion that you will not marry?”

“No.”

“Well, I am relieved to hear that.” He crossed his arms before him, looking—when she chanced a peek-like the lord of the world.

Victoria wiped her hands on a cloth, then went over to reposition his head. “What I meant was, I am not going to satisfy your curiosity about what I intend to do with my life.”

“I shall find out, nonetheless. I intend to know all about you, Victoria. You have quite piqued my curiosity. And if I do say so, I am rather good at solving mysteries.”

Victoria returned to bend her head over her work, praying she might leave the house without revealing anything else. The man was skilled at persuasion. He could probably convince a clam to talk. If she applied herself with great dedication, she might finish the sculpture in record time. And that, she fervently decided, was absolutely necessary.

When Victoria at last escaped from Sir Edward’s tantalizing and oddly frustrating company, she returned to her home in an unsettled mood. She strolled down the hall to the workroom, where she found Julia in what could only be described as a case of the dismals.

“Something has happened. What?” Victoria quietly demanded. Had Padbury offered for Julia and that widgeon accepted, thinking it the best, when her heart was not engaged? Victoria prayed that was not the explanation.

“Mr. Padbury was here,” Julia replied, gesturing to the now-vacant chair. “He drizzled, picking apart a perfectly lovely piece of gold fabric. It seems a shame that because ‘tis all the rage, those magnificent fabrics must be lost forever.”

“And?” Victoria prompted, sensing there was more to come.

“He commented on the girls, said it was a pity I had not produced a boy, so as to remain Lady Winton and in control of the future heir to the Winton fortune. He pressed to know why I refuse to use my rightful style of ‘Lady Winton.’ I told him.”

“They treated you shabbily, dearest. I cannot blame you for not liking the connection.”

“He also reminded me that when Geoffrey marries I shall need a home.” Julia pleated her skirt with nervous hands.

“You shall never lack such, and you must know that,” Victoria inserted, anxious to smooth the frown from her sister’s brow.

“He asked if I had given thought to another marriage.” Julia raised her lovely eyes to meet Victoria’s gaze. “I have, you know. For I am often lonely and miss the love I knew. Mr. Padbury had also been thinking of marriage.”

Victoria watched as Julia jumped up from her chair and began to restlessly pace about the room, fingering the various tools, turning to gaze at her twins where they played not far from the fire.

“I suppose he offered for me, but it was a most peculiar proposal. He announced that the girls would be given over to a nanny, then sent off to school. He doesn’t hold with their being underfoot, you see,” she concluded with a bitter twist of her mouth.

“Horrid man,” Victoria said in disgust.

“I would have to cease my painting, for it is not fitting, you see. And he intended to move in with us for the time being. He claimed his house too small.”

“Never say so. And you replied?”

“I most primly declared we should not suit.”

“I must say you showed your usual good sense. What did he do?” Victoria asked, curious about the genial gentleman’s reaction to rejection.

“He snatched up his drizzling box and fabric, then marched to the door, declaring me to be a shameless flirt. I had thought I might do it, you see. But when he said he would take the twins from me, I knew I could not. If I accept a man, he must take me complete with the girls.”

“There will be someone, love,” Victoria said softly. “And pigs might fly,” Julia retorted. Yet there lurked a hopeful gleam in her eyes that Victoria did not miss.

Chapter 10

“I do believe I shall go out of my mind if I cannot solve this cipher soon,” Victoria declared. She ran her fingers through her disordered hair in total frustration. The end of her pen looked worse for wear where she had nibbled on it; blots of ink dotted the paper she used for scribbling possible solutions. The untidy mess littered her desk, her sculpture of the fascinating Sir Edward set aside for the moment.

However, Victoria spared the man a consideration. Why had she not informed her superiors of his possession of the cipher? It was most unlike her. She ought to have dashed to the war office with her knowledge. Yet she had seen that incriminating bit of paper once, then a second time, with notations that indicated he found it as hard to break as she did. Yet she knew she could not turn him in, even trained as she was in espionage. Could it be that she hoped he would prove to be other than she suspected. He had most likely saved her life with his care while in the windmill. She owed him something, did she not?

Across from her Elizabeth sat working with concentrated effort on a sheet of engravings, giving them their final touch of color. To one side the copper plates from which she had printed the sheet of bills lay neatly stacked, for once. A smudge of ink daubed her cheek, and a frown marred her lovely forehead while she carefully executed fine details with the help of a magnifying glass.

Only Julia sat quietly, her hands idle, even though she had a small painting half-finished in front of her on her slanted table. The morning sun highlighted the still figure, giving her the look of a painted statue.

When Victoria glanced up, she observed this uncharacteristic behavior. “What is it, Julia? You are unusually silent this morning. Come to think on it, you have said remarkably little since our visit after I came home from Sir Edward’s house yesterday. Does the scene with Mr. Padbury still bother you?” she added with a shrewd guess.

“Actually, yes.” When Elizabeth looked up in startled alarm, Julia went on to say, “He asked for my hand, but as sorely as I am tempted to secure a future for the twins, I simply could not accept the man. Assure me that what I did was right.” Delicate violet shadows emphasized Julia’s lovely eyes and gave indication of her lost sleep.

Victoria exchanged a look with Elizabeth, then nodded her head. “Of course you did. The man is an insufferable snob, wanting you to resume your style of ‘Lady Winton,’ then insisting the four of you would live here with us. As though residing in the house of a baron would elevate his status.”

Julia peered first at one sister, then the other. “Mr. Padbury did not actually propose, you know, he rather informed me that if I had been thinking about marriage again, so had he.”

Victoria gave a disgusted sniff. “I cannot countenance that he wanted to remove the twins from your care. How utterly heartless of the man.”

Elizabeth cried, “But that is infamous! Send those precious darlings away from you?”

Julia gave her sisters a wan smile. “I wonder if he paused to consider that when I marry, I should not have the right to style myself as ‘Lady Padbury.’ He had best search out the daughter of an earl, if all he desires is a secondhand title.”

“Horrid man,” Victoria declared with vehemence.

“It is well I did not accept his odd proposal then, for he declared that the four of us would have to live here
until
such time as he could find a larger house to suit him and hold us all, and who knows how long that might take? I fail to see why his present abode would prove too small.”

“Unless,” Elizabeth said, with her eyes narrowed and thoughtful, “he actually is under the hatches and no one has heard about it. You know how these sorts of things may be hidden and buried.”

“He did drizzle all the time,” Victoria reminded her sisters. “I always thought that only those who needed the small sums of money they made drizzled—especially as much as he does.”

“Indeed,” Julia murmured in agreement. “He sat and drizzled all the time he discussed our proposed coming arrangement.”

“No!” Victoria and Elizabeth exclaimed in unison, Elizabeth falling into a fit of giggles at the image provoked by Julia’s words.

“That is the outside of enough,” Victoria declared. “And I had thought him such a genial man, so proper in his feelings.”

Turning to Elizabeth, Julia said, “I hope this prosaic proposal I received does not put you off the thought of marriage. Not all men are like Mr. Padbury.”

Victoria nodded. “That is true. Julia is far better off with Mr. Padbury out of the picture. One never knows when the right man will present himself. That goes for you as well, Elizabeth.”

“That remains to be seen,” Elizabeth muttered. Her face clearly reflected her skepticism regarding the likelihood of this event.

“Yet I wonder if I did the right thing. I confess there are few gentlemen I find appealing. If Geoffrey comes home with a wife who will not tolerate us, will the girls and I be any better off?”

“We shall be together, never fear,” Victoria assured Julia. “I have no plans to wed, although Elizabeth has promised me that she intends to at least look for a husband.” Victoria fixed a minatory eye on her younger sister, defying her to deny her agreement.

“I trust you do not remain single to help me,” Julia scolded. But the sisters knew that Victoria had become more reserved this past year, and while she lightly flirted, she encouraged no man to get close to her. But then, as she was so often away from Society, it might be that she simply had not met the right man. Julia exchanged a hopeful look with Elizabeth and they both smiled.

“I await my prince,” Victoria stated dramatically, then chuckled at the face Elizabeth made. “No one could ever suffer any pretensions in this house for long.”