The Fashionable Spy (5 page)

“I’d a day or so to recover, remember?” Victoria hoped that her sister would not probe too deeply into the events of those two days. Not that anything had actually happened, mind you. But her sister doted on propriety, probably because the three of them skirted on the edge so often, particularly Victoria. It would not be astonishing for Julia to demand that her younger sister accept Sir Edward’s proposal, never mind that neither of the two involved wished for a marriage. Julia would organize the wedding before a cat could lick its paws.

“What of the man who rescued you?” Julia’s study of her sister was with shrewd eyes.

Victoria could only pray that her sister saw no more than a bland countenance. If she so much as thought that Victoria had an interest—of any sort—in Sir Edward, it would be all over.

“It was his carriage that crashed into mine. I ought to demand he replace it, or at the very least repair the damage,” Victoria said with asperity as she thought of the expenses as a result of the crash. Although, to be fair, the other driver had had little chance to avoid the impact, given the weather. And, she admitted, her family was well-off, not the least purse-pinched. “Sam feels the chaise will never be the same, and suggested we order a new one. It is possible we might find one advertised in the
Post,”
Victoria offered mildly. “There are often carriages for sale by people who can no longer afford to keep them.’

Any hope she might divert her sister to a different line of thought was lost when Julia said sternly, “Vicky, you spent two nights in the same dwelling with this man. Your reputation, should word of this get out, will be ruined.”

Deciding the worst might as well be known, Victoria replied, “Actually, it was the same room. This windmill was not a particularly large one.” She prudently omitted the provocative information that Sir Edward had divested her of most of her wet clothing. It had been in the interest of her health, and this much she allowed. “He seemed only concerned for my well-being. He did not appear attracted to my person in the least.”

Julia stared, utterly horrified, at her sister. “That is even worse.” She placed trembling fingers against her cheeks. “What might be bruited about Town should news of this latest escapade leak to the
ton
is beyond thinking. We already face a certain amount of censure that is mitigated only by our financial status and Geoffrey being a baron. Woman who paint, sculpture, and engrave because they wish to do so are on a different plane than those who are required to earn a living. Nevertheless ...” She sighed.

Julia continued, “I do not know what we shall do regarding it. Perhaps wait to see what develops with regard to the gentleman. How fortunate you are that he
was
a gentleman. I am surprised Sam would allow you to be carried off like that.”

Her eyes contained more curiosity than reproach. That she was intrigued at this departure from Sam’s normally protective behavior was clear. Victoria suspected that Julia also wondered at her own reticence in discussing the storm-caused delay. For some reason, she was not prepared to reveal all that had occurred.

“When I encountered Sam at the inn in Canterbury, he actually seemed surprised that Sir Edward was not with me. As though I would permit such a thing. Do you know that man had the effrontery to order a coach to come for us in the
afternoon?
He knew I wished to arrive in London as soon as possible.” Victoria sniffed with disdain at the man who had such presumption.

“Interesting,” Julia replied.

“Let us put all that behind us,” Victoria begged, partly from a need for self-defense and partly from the urgency of the matter in which they were involved. “I have the packet, and may I remind you that the information is urgently desired?” That someone threw a knife at her just before she acquired that same packet she prudently omitted. Also, the knowledge that the knife bore the crude carving of an iris was not revealed. “The weather in Dover was extremely nasty. I was fortunate to make my contact and flee the town in one piece. It is a relief to be home. I shall send in my report, then see if I can solve the riddle posed by the cipher.”

Julia nodded, apparently happy to have her sister cozily safe in the morning room. “You are certain that Sir Edward had no idea what you possessed?”

Victoria smiled with catlike smugness. “Not in the least. Although he carried my case into the windmill, there isn’t the least evidence that he removed it from the foot of my bed, much less opened it. Indeed, he evinced little curiosity about my occupation.” She had been surprised at this, for most people asked all manner of questions. She had often wondered if the disapproval from the women who queried her stemmed from envy rather than censure.

“What a relief.” Julia glanced to where the girls sat by the hearth, undressing their dolls and amiably arguing in their incomprehensible chatter. “They appear settled for the nonce, at any rate. It was kind of you to remember them with such pretty trifles.” Turning back to face her sister, she got to the point. “Shall you begin work on the papers immediately?”

Victoria withdrew the oiled silk packet from her reticule and unfolded the few papers that had been tucked within. She spread them out on the table at her side. “It appears to be a list. But what is the key to deciphering it? It is like nothing I have encountered to this point. I must say, whoever penned this had an atrocious hand.” she murmured as she picked up a magnifying glass to again study the formation of the various letters that made up the words on the first page. While en route to London, with only Sable for companionship, Victoria had pulled the packet from her case to look it over. She had hoped to pass the hours in profitable study. Instead, she found the code impossible to break.

The room grew quiet, with the gentle crackle of the fire a sweet counterpoint to the murmurings of the girls. Victoria prepared her report, ringing for Evenson to promptly dispatch it.

Then the door burst open and a slim young woman, her chestnut curls bouncing and aquamarine eyes wide with curiosity, charged into the room. “Why did no one wake me? What happened? Did you find any incriminating evidence? How did your stay go? Why are you late coming home? And why is there a court plaster on your forehead?”

Victoria rose from the table and went to reassure her younger sister that all was well. “Elizabeth, calm yourself. I found out not a thing. And I am well enough after my wetting, thanks to the care from the gentleman whose chaise crashed into mine. Sam is taking charge of repairs, although he said we really ought to order a new chaise to replace the damaged one. I thought we had better discuss it before agreeing with him.”

“I should like one with an aquamarine interior. Mrs. Biddlesby has one and I vow it is most charming.” Then Elizabeth glanced at the table and back to her sister again. “You received papers. Are they difficult?”

Her sisters were in awe of Victoria’s ability to decipher the coded papers presented to her from time to time, frequently through highly unusual channels.

“No, ‘tis most frustrating. The only instruction I received was that it was extremely important to our country’s security. As I told Julia, it appears to be some sort of list.”

The door opened again to admit the elderly butler who had served the Dancy family from the time he first entered service as a young boy. Evenson bowed to Victoria, then intoned, “There is a gentleman to see you. Miss Victoria. Sir Edward Hawkswood. Shall I tell him you are not at home?” It was evident Evenson disapproved of this departure from the proper hour for social calls.

While it was not the correct hour to be paying calls, Victoria very much doubted if Sir Edward cared in this instance. Tucking the papers carefully back into the packet, and then into the reticule she hung on her wrist, she rose from the table. Stiffening her spine, she shook her head at Evenson, then brushed down her gown before sweeping from the room, saying as she left, “I may as well see him and be done with it.” She glanced at each of her sisters, assuring them with her eyes that she would do quite well and that they need have no fears for her.

When the door had swung shut, Elizabeth turned to Julia, saying, “I wonder if one of us ought to go along with her ... for propriety?”

Julia crossed to give the bell rope a tug, “I think not. The expression in her eyes said for us to remain here. I have the oddest notion about all of this. I believe there is more to this situation than she is willing to reveal, and that, you must own, is most unlike our dear sister.’’

The two exchanged thoughtful looks, then Julia turned to the young maid who answered the summons and handed over the twins to her to take to their nanny. It was time that Julia returned to her painting.

Even though they all insisted that the vast funds of the Dancy family made it unnecessary to be saving, Julia’s pride insisted she seek a measure of independence. Hence her painting, for which she charged a scandalous fee. A smile tugged at her mouth as she considered the advice given her by a well-known artist. He had urged her to demand a high payment, for he said the more blunt they paid, the more the patrons valued the painting. He had proved to be right, and Julia felt proud she had attained a measure of autonomy. Leaving Elizabeth to seek a late breakfast, Julia retreated to the room the women shared for their artistic endeavors.

Evenson had placed Sir Edward upstairs in the elegant drawing room, rather than the study, rightly estimating the baronet’s social position to a nicety.

Pausing on the threshold, Victoria made an assessment of her rescuer, who now stood across the room by the marble fireplace. The deep blue and light gold of the room was a perfect foil for his dark coloring. How tall and well-built he was, with that marvelously modeled head she had studied and admired before. His clothing was impeccable, his coat and pantaloons fitting his fine figure very nicely, and those boots had a mirror finish, witness to the ministrations of a first-class valet. He held his cane with a casual air.

Sable moved to her side, and she advanced to face Sir Edward, feeling more secure with her guardian pet near her.

“Good day. Sir Edward. I trust you have recovered from the effects of your journey? I was under the impression that you planned a trip to Dover?” She watched as he spun about to face her, surmising that he had not expected her home to be of this quality. Somehow it pleased her to find he was rather taken aback at her surroundings. Had he expected a penniless and unprotected lamb?

“The delay made the trip unnecessary, the time was past.” His free hand gestured toward her as he exclaimed, “I see your forehead is not totally restored to health. I trust your injury has not taken a turn for the worse.”

Victoria frowned as she noted that he now leaned on his carved blackthorn cane more than a gentleman usually does. Normally a cane was nothing more than a fashionable accessory. It seemed to her that he required it, and she sailed into speech without thought. “ ‘Tis nothing but the insistence of my overbearing abigail. You, however, appear to be more than a trifle down-pin, sir. I fear that carrying me around tried your leg severely.”

He followed her over to the tasteful striped sofa that was arranged with several chairs to form pleasant seating for a conversation group. She sensed he was not pleased with her.

“My injury plagues me less each day, thank you,” he replied in a curt manner, confirming her suspicion. “The improvement may have been delayed a bit by our accident, but I am assured that no serious damage has been done.”

“Then I must be pleased for your sake, sir.” She seated herself at one end of the sofa, turning so she faced him while he eased himself down on the far end. He seemed stiff, in spite of the elegance of his manner, and she worried that he truly had worsened due to caring for her, for that rain couldn’t have been good for him, nor her weight. His cane was kept close to hand, giving credence to her impression that he did indeed require it.

“What has your family to say to the matter of our stay at the windmill?” One hand rested on his knee, the other caressed the handle of his cane. He went directly to the point. It seemed he felt no need to shilly-shally in the least.

“Very little, if you must know. My sisters recognize that I am a model of propriety, and with Sable at my side there has never been a difficulty.” Then she recalled her pet’s attraction to Sir Edward and frowned. “At least, before this.” She watched as the dog inched toward the gentleman in question. Sable’s eyes gleamed with adoration, something Victoria was accustomed to having reserved for herself.

“Sable,” she admonished, and the dog surprised her by sitting down on the floor precisely between the two on the sofa. Sable placed a chastened head on the satin striped covering and gazed at Victoria with meek eyes that would have fooled anyone but her.

A smile tugged at Edward’s mouth as he watched the little charade. “Your dog appears to remember me.”

“Indeed,” she replied in a repressive tone.

“Your family?” It appeared he would not be distracted from the purpose of his visit.

“I believe I mentioned my parents have gone aloft. Geoffrey, as you seemed to know, is in Portugal. At least, I think he is there. We’ve not had a letter from him in an age.” She frowned as worry over her brother’s safety assailed her.

Sir Edward quickly said, “The mail is terrible, as you may know, and who can guess where a letter may languish while waiting to go on its way?”

She rewarded his efforts with a flash of a smile. “It is kind of you to care, sir.”

“That does not alter matters between us,” he said in a firm tone. “I find it difficult to accept that you still refuse my offer, even after having time to consider it. You are so satisfied that nothing untoward will result from your trip, not to mention that hasty flit to Canterbury? No gossip will be filtering through the
ton?
That was not well-done of you, by the bye. I had a devil of a head when I came to later that day.” The look directed at her was the sort that Julia aimed at the girls when they had misbehaved and were due for chastisement.

Victoria frowned again, considering the amount of drug she had dropped into his ale. “It ought not have affected you so severely. I do apologize for that, but a lady traveling alone must take precautions.” Then her brow cleared, and she continued. “I shall keep your most kind and generous offer in mind. Sir Edward. However, as there is not the least likelihood that anyone will find out about our chance encounter or the ensuing stay in the windmill, I believe you may safely plan your future without including me in it.”