Unmasking the Spy (26 page)

Some men might have made a
mistress of Elizabeth in circumstances such as these, but Ian was cut from
cloth that didn’t allow such disrespect to the institution of marriage. His
mother would have been crushed if even the slightest thought toward that end
had crossed his father’s mind.

“About Miss Kinsey’s mother,” Ian
said suddenly.

“Yes?”

“When was the accident?”

“Mm. Two years ago this spring,
just a month or so into her first season. She missed most of her second season
as well, still being in half-mourning.”

Ian blinked in surprise. “She’s
never had a true Season?”

“I suppose not.”

“Great.” Add
ruining-innocents-before-they-had-a-chance to his ever-growing list of
transgressions.

Caspian stretched his legs in
front of him. “To be honest, the betting books indicated there were many who thought
the marriage was already over.”

“Divorce?” Ian said doubtfully.

“Nothing so vulgar as that,”
Caspian answered with a wry expression. “The camps were evenly divided between
her leaving him to go back to her family or him murdering her in fit of jealous
rage.”

“Come now,” Ian scoffed. “I can’t
imagine him murdering a loaf of bread.”

Caspian shrugged. “He’s a
different man since her death.”

“How did he learn of it?”

“He found her. He’d been out for
a walk and the carriage careened out of control right in front of him. He saw
the entire thing unfold before him, but there was nothing to be done.”

“How awful. And Miss Kinsey?”

“Waving goodbye from the upstairs
window, watching her Mama head into town for a meeting with the solicitor. By
all accounts, the household found her in a dead faint and she didn’t speak for
days.”

“Good Lord,” Ian said with a
shudder.

“The whole family had problems
keeping wives.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some similar accident befell
Chadwick’s father’s wife. She lasted long enough for Chadwick to be born, and
that was the last anyone saw of her. I don’t really remember much more, except
that theirs wasn’t a happy marriage from the start.”

“I can’t imagine. My parents were
blissfully happy as long as they were together.” Ian sighed. “I had hoped for
nothing less.”

“Not everyone is that lucky, my
friend. But if anyone could turn a situation such as yours into a good
marriage, I’m sure it’s you. Alicia Kinsey may be perfect for you after all. As
for me,” Caspian continued with a wicked grin, “I’m having a fine time with all
the imperfect women.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Enough.
Now, is there anything else I can do for you regarding the missing jewels?”

“I don’t know. Not at this time,
I suppose. When is the wedding?”

“Monday.”

“Monday?” Caspian repeated,
incredulity lacing his voice.

Ian shrugged one shoulder.
“Monday. We’ll be repairing directly to Heatherley.”

Caspian blinked then hauled
himself out of the chair. “In that case, don’t worry about it. I shall take it
from here.”

Rising, Ian held out a hand to
his friend. “Don’t be a stranger, Caspian. Come out to Heatherley and see us.”

“I may, I may,” Caspian answered.
“Until next time, then. Good luck with the wedding.”

Ian shook his head at the sound
of the closing door. He needed plenty of luck for the whole marriage.

*          *          *

Spending all day by oneself in
one’s room – unless one counted the brief visits by various maids as they
dropped off or picked up her tray for meals – gave far too much time to think.
By the time night fell, Alicia was in a temper, certain that her father was the
most uncaring, unreasonable man in all of England. By the time she relinquished
her supper tray and realized no other persons would be knocking on her door,
Alicia’s self-righteous outrage had transformed into a state of high anxiety.

What if Rogue didn’t come again
tonight?

She was still reeling from his
absence last night. Why hadn’t he come? She had been so sure! Well, it hardly
signified. He’d call tonight. She’d lay the whole sorry tale at his feet and
hope for his continued affections.

Perhaps her wealth and
aspirations to title would help smooth over his horror at this turn of events.
Perhaps he wouldn’t care a jot about her money or her sudden scandal, and would
run away with her right then and there, picking her up in his strong arms and
disappearing into the darkness.

Alicia’s lips contorted into a
grisly imitation of a smile. No doubt a reckless dash into the night was one of
her few remaining avenues of escape. She simply had to convince Rogue of the
attractiveness of such a rash plan.

Cracking open her door, she
listened for the gratifying sound of her father’s loud snores and was not
disappointed. She carried no candle tonight, having decided that a bit of
discretion would not be amiss.

Holding out her arms to guide her
way, Alicia glided down the steps, eased along the corridor and slipped into
the library. She stalked around the room in impatient circles as she waited,
terrified she’d fall asleep again if she dared to relax in a chair for even the
smallest moment.

She did her best to ignore the
evidence proclaimed by the moonbeams across the clock on the mantel, but after
three long hours had crawled past, Alicia was forced to make a decision. Should
she wait for Rogue just a little longer – what could be keeping him? – or
should she return to her room, lest she still be pacing the floor when the
household awoke.

Alicia bit her lip and leaned her
head against a windowpane, feeling the cold glass against her forehead and
wishing she’d had the foresight to make an exact meeting-time with Rogue. She
stood there for perhaps another hour, but when the black skies began to
lighten, she wrenched herself away from the wall, wiggled her stiff back, and
forced herself to walk the lonely route back to her room.

*          *          *

The next day, Alicia ventured
from her bedroom as soon as she awoke, but did her best to avoid her father.
Fighting back a devilish case of the megrims, she spent most of the day
reading, sewing, and plunking idly at the piano. She managed to keep out of
Papa’s sight until late afternoon, when for no good reason that Alicia could
fathom, Aunt Beatrix took it upon herself to shout his name as he walked past
the sitting room where they’d been chatting over cups of steamy chocolate.

Chadwick’s imposing frame filled
the doorway. “Yes?”

She glanced from him to her aunt
and back again, hoping Beatrix wouldn’t say anything inflammatory. Alicia
doubted she’d be back in her father’s good graces for quite some time and had
no desire to test his patience any further.

“Alicia tells me you and Louis
plan to ship me off to Bedlam,” Beatrix announced, somehow injecting a note of
censure into her querulous voice.

Oh Lord.

Alicia tried to disappear into
her chair, but soon realized it had the misfortune of being placed in such a
manner as to face her father directly. Desperate, she brought her chocolate in
front of her face to block her view of her father, hoping he wouldn’t notice
his daughter hiding behind a porcelain cup.

“Is that right,” he replied
finally, his strained voice indicating his annoyance at the interruption.

“I told her you’d never send me
anywhere,” Beatrix continued, as if unaware of the danger lurking in Chadwick’s
tone.

“Oh?” he answered, anger lowering
his voice to a near-growl.

Alicia’s hand shook, and she was
forced to take several quick sips of scalding chocolate before the fragrant
liquid slopped all over her hands and dress. Having drunk the chocolate to a
more appropriate level, given her current nervous tremor, Alicia popped the cup
back in front of her face and squeezed her eyelids shut tight.

“Then let me tell you this,”
Chadwick said in a cold, steady tone. “I am through with both of you. Neither
has been anything but a disappointment. If I shan’t send you to Bedlam,
Beatrix, by God I will not hesitate to ship you off with Alicia the very moment
she speaks her vows. You have been my burdens for long enough. I have enough
problems to deal with and I shall welcome a respite from your nonsensical
attitudes and careless behavior. Alicia!”

Her eyes flew open. She lowered
her cup just low enough to peer over the rim at his reddened face. “Yes, Papa?”

“Lest you have any doubt: I am
speaking to both of you. Beatrix may be owed some leniency for her foibles due
to her advanced age, but you cannot excuse every reckless transgression caused
by keeping your head in the clouds to the fact of being young. You have made
your bed, Alicia. Tonight is the last night you’ll spend at Chadwick House
while I’m alive, and tomorrow morning at the church I’ll be giving you away for
good.”

Finding this chilling speech
quite unanswerable, Alicia swallowed convulsively and tried to replace her cup
in its saucer, rattling them together with her trembling hands.

Chadwick stepped out of the
doorway and strode from the room without waiting for a reply.

*          *          *

Marriage. Tomorrow. Unbelievable.

Ian couldn’t suppress a quick
shiver at the thought. He reached in his fob pocket and pulled out his watch.
Half past midnight. He ought to get some rest. Morning would spring on him in
no time, assaulting him with the end of his bachelorhood, perhaps a small
wedding breakfast, and a long ride to Heatherley with a new bride in the
coach-seat next to him.

He should be thinking about his
wife-to-be. That’s what a sane man would be doing. Instead, his recalcitrant
mind continued to dwell on thoughts of Elizabeth. Not of marrying her, as he’d
hoped – his sense of honor was too strong to consider breaking a promise given
to Miss Kinsey.

But to be fair, he’d hinted at
making a similar promise to Elizabeth. Of his own free will. The least he could
do was say good-bye. He couldn’t explain the situation – letting her know he
was marrying her relative could only cause additional pain. But he could have
the common decency to let her know he would not be pressing his suit. The last
thing he wanted was for her to be waiting for him, with her little bare toes
and her velvet-patch cheeks.

No, to leave a maiden so
callously uninformed of his plans – or lack thereof – would be characteristic
of the worst bounder. He would have to see her again. It was a question of
honor! His haunted dreams had nothing to do with his decision, nor his
sleepless nights where he lay awake, remembering each soft caress... Completely
irrelevant. Never entered his mind.

He would have to call on her one
last time. He must! Not for his sake. Oh, no. But for hers. He’d be the veriest
cad to not tell her, face to face, that he would not be able to see her again.
To touch her face one last time… If only he were marrying Elizabeth!

Ian sprinted up the stairs to his
bedroom and slipped the stiff black eye-mask from his table to his pocket. He
let himself out the door with a self-deprecating chuckle and began the long,
cold walk to Chadwick House, hoping against hope that she would be there to
meet him one last time.

Alicia’s trembling fingers
struggled with the small, slippery patches. Frustrated, she pasted them on her
face in jerky, haphazard movements then slapped on her cap and stared at her
bleak reflection.

This was the last night Rogue
could come and save her. This was her last chance for love.

Her back leapt ramrod straight in
her chair as a sudden thought sprang to her mind. What if Rogue, in a misguided
fit of honor, refused to take her from a man who'd already pledged himself to
her? No. She wouldn't have it. She would do anything – anything! – for a chance
at true love.

One way or another, tomorrow
marked the start of a different life.

Alicia snuffed out her candle and
made her way downstairs, prepared to wait for hours if need be. She pushed open
the library door and her heart stuttered in her chest.

A familiar figure cut a dashing
silhouette, backlit by the waning moon as he lounged against the window.  If he
saw her, he didn’t move.

With a sigh of unparalleled
relief, Alicia shut the door behind her and ran to Rogue. She launched herself
into his arms, enveloping him in a tight hug. His hands were hesitant at her
waist and he did not return her embrace. Undaunted, Alicia pressed a line of
fierce kisses against the scratchy stubble of his jaw, but when even this gained
no response, she took a small step backward, squinting up at him in concern.

“What is it?”

Although she could not see his
face, sorrow and regret dampened his voice.

“Elizabeth,” he said. “I- I
cannot.”

Alicia’s mouth fell open and the
first drops of icy fear rolled down her spine. Had he discovered her true
identity and heard the vicious rumors of her alleged freedom with her favors?
Had he come to formally retract the promise he had not quite pledged?