Unmasking the Spy (31 page)

Wait. He didn’t know she was Elizabeth?

Perhaps that was the key.

An evil little smile tweaked the
corners of Alicia’s mouth as she considered the implications. What if his
feelings toward the alleged poor relation were real? Revenge would be easy. Her
patches and paraphernalia were packed away, but somewhere here in her chambers.
How easy it would be to appear outside in the gardens as a ghost from his past!
Haunting him as the one woman he couldn’t get rid of, she could plan
assignation after assignation and rail at him in her “bitterness” at
discovering he was a married man.

Alicia stomped into the next
room, flounced down in the desk chair, jerked open the drawer to her traveling
writing desk, snatched up a blank sheet and considered what to write.

“My dearest Rogue,” she began.
“Owner of my heart and keeper of my soul,” she added with a mocking simper.
“Please do not be angry that I have followed you to your home. I could not bear
for us to be apart. I will meet you tonight, at midnight, in your garden to
show you just how ardently I’ve missed your touch.” Alicia smirked and
continued, “I do so hope your dear sister is faring better, and much improved
from her infection of the lungs.” Ha! What a liar. She hoped every word made
him squirm. “I cannot wait until our hearts unite once more,” she finished with
a flourish. “Your loving, Elizabeth.”

With that, Alicia folded the note
and wrote “Master Rogue” across the face. She sprang up from her chair and
headed downstairs. She’d walk around outside all morning if she had to, until
she found a suitable location to drop it right where a servant would be sure to
tread.

She wished she could be present
to see Ian’s face when he read those words.

*          *          *

Ian was in his office poring over
his accounts when a gray-haired footman appeared, holding a small square of
paper by its corners.

“It were laying near the path in
the front lawns,” he said. “Not to say as you’re a rogue, sir, but you are the
master here, so I brought it straight to you.”

Ice crackled around Ian’s stomach
at the simple word “rogue”. Bracing himself for some unknown disaster, he held
out his hand and the footman handed him the note. Ian inclined his head and the
older man left him in peace, shutting the door behind him.

Ian dropped the note before him
on his desk. His fingers fumbled with its folds as if they didn’t want to view
the contents any more than he did. Too soon, the creases had been smoothed and
the words leapt before him in tiny rows of neat script.

“My dearest Rogue,” the letter
began, and in doing so ripped a hole in his heart. Ian turned his face sideways
as though the sentences ceased to exist if he couldn’t see them. After a few
deep breaths, he forced himself to read the rest of the message rapidly, his
worst suspicions confirmed and compounded.

Elizabeth
. Here. Damn.

He crumpled the paper and tossed
it into the fire. Instead of feeling better when the sizzling flames consumed
the missive, Ian thought he might be sick.

What was he going to do?

*          *          *

Alicia strummed her fingers on the
piano keys and launched into one of her favorite songs. She pounded the chords
across the octaves and allowed her anger to dissipate. She ended the piece with
a lighter touch. When she looked up from her fingers, she was surprised to see Carlotta
standing in the doorway.

“Don’t kill it,” Carlotta quipped
with a cheery smile. “It’s the only piano we’ve got.”

She sashayed into the room and
dropped into a chaise longue by the wall, an expectant lift to her eyebrows.

“Er, right,” stammered Alicia,
turning from the keys to face her more directly. “My apologies, Miss Carlotta.
I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

“Don’t ‘Miss Carlotta’ me – we’re
sisters now. Although I daresay Certain Family Members might stand on such
formality, I am not one to do so. Of course, I shall never call you anything
but Mrs. Morrissey without permission to do otherwise, since you are mistress
of Heatherley now and my elder besides. But I would be in alt if we could also
be friends!”

Alicia blinked. “I should be
honored to be both your sister and your friend,” she replied after a moment. “I
will not mind at all if you call me Alicia. ‘Mrs. Morrissey’ still feels
strange to my ears.”

“Famous! You’re a jolly good
sport, and talented at the keys, besides. I’ve always wanted to play,” confessed
Carlotta, with a longing look toward the piano.

“You don’t play?” Alicia asked in
surprise.

Carlotta shook her head. “None of
us.”

“Certainly Ian could afford a
tutor?”

“I suppose. But it was Mama that
played. And she stopped the day Papa died. Being the youngest, I’ve never heard
this piano played – until just now.”

“How awful! I’m so sorry.” Alicia
bit her lip and considered Carlotta’s wistful expression. “If you’d like, I… I
would be glad to teach you what I know.”

“Oh, would you?” Carlotta clapped
her hands together and sprang to her feet, bouncing over to Alicia and settling
next to her on the bench. “What do I do? How do I begin?”

“Your enthusiasm is quite
inspiring,” Alicia said with her first true smile since she’d arrived at
Heatherley. “Let’s begin with a little lesson on which keys are which, and
perhaps by the end of the afternoon you’ll have mastered the basics of steps
and half-steps. Once you’ve practiced scales for as many hours as I have,
perhaps you’ll be less impressed with the piano.”

“Oh, never!” Carlotta crowed,
wiggling in glee. “I shall love scales above all else!”

Laughing, Alicia set about
introducing the keys to Carlotta, naming them and their relationships to each
other and making the delighted girl repeat each letter as the notes rang out.
She coached her in the proper fingering for a run of C scales, and stood behind
her to watch her plunk out the pattern in halting, staccato notes.

Breathless with giggling as she
hit yet another wrong key, Carlotta jumped and gasped, “Ian!”

Alicia flinched and turned toward
the door. There he stood, tall and powerful even with his black wavy hair
tousled and a brooding look in his eyes.

“How dreadful of you to stand and
watch!” Carlotta cried. “Either move along to whatever you’d rather be doing,
or come in and sit down like a proper audience. You may clap when I make my
scales successfully. I’m getting better every moment!”

Ian turned on his heel and loped
off without a word, leaving Carlotta speechless for the first time since
Alicia’s arrival in Heatherley.

“I suppose… I suppose it was the
shock of seeing someone other than Mama at the piano,” she said finally.
“Perhaps it was bad of me not to ask him what he thought of such lessons.”

Alicia cocked her head to one
side and considered the empty doorway with a sense of grim satisfaction. Maybe,
just maybe, “Elizabeth” had scored a direct hit.

*          *          *

When nightfall blanketed
Heatherley in its darkness, save for the moon and several stars, Alicia retired
to her room on the pretext of a headache. The truth, however, was that she
wasn’t entirely sure where to find her patch stand and patches, and began to
fear she might miss her own staged assignation.

By the time she discovered to
which drawer they’d been unpacked, she began to have little niggling doubts. At
first, getting even with Ian had seemed not only no less than he deserved, but
also a grand lark. The sense of danger and fear of discovery that had heightened
her every emotion while meeting Rogue at Chadwick House no longer existed.
After all, how could Ian reprimand her now? He was just as guilty as she, and
possibly more.

Leagues more, in fact, if he
intended to meet his lost love while a newly married man! Many matrons believed
such blatant betrayal of the institution of marriage to be nothing to concern
oneself with, so long as discretion was employed. But meeting a lover in one’s
own back yards, while one’s bride rested just a window away… she could find
nothing discreet in that!

Alicia littered her skin with the
small black patches. Scowling with renewed rage, she shrugged into a dark brown
pelisse and headed out the door. She’d taken no more than three steps when she
tripped over something large and went flying into the opposite wall.

A gasp and sudden movement made
her turn to face the obstacle with more than a little trepidation, but she was
not prepared for what she saw. Big round eyes blinked up at her from a wide,
owlish face. Alicia gaped at the child with as much horror as reflected in his
own expression.

Heatherley employed a hall boy.

That is, a young, inexperienced
hall boy whose drowsy eyes indicated he’d fallen dead asleep. And she’d had the
misfortune to
trip
over him!

Alicia racked her brain, trying
to think of how to turn this situation best to her advantage. He might make it
known that she scurried around at night garbed in walking dresses and black
velvet hearts and half-moons, but who cared? Tonight, she’d make it damn clear
to Ian Morrissey exactly who his “mistress” was and was not. She didn’t want
the whole household awakened, but since she was mistress, the hall boy would
have to answer to her. Wouldn’t he?

“How bad of you to put yourself
right in the path of people walking down the hallway,” Alicia chided him,
hoping she came across as affronted and angry.

“Oh, no, ma’am. Well, yes, it
seems I did, but I didn’t know as you’d be walking down it, and as I’d fallen
asleep, I couldn’t see you do so, ma’am, and I’m terribly sorry,” he stammered
as he scrambled to his feet.

“What else would I do in a
hallway but walk down it?” Alicia asked in her most reasonable tone, and waved
her hand at him. “Sit down, sit down. You may as well go back to sleep. That
is, unless you think we ought to wake my husband right now to tell him you
knocked me into the wall?”

The hall boy goggled up at her,
terrified. “No, ma’am, not now at all – that is, I hope ’tis not truly
necessary, even in the morning when he’s awake, and I’m beggin’ your pardon
something fierce, ma’am, as I’m only to stop those as want to wander the halls
and raise the hue and cry if evildoers appear, and not the least bit supposed
to knock anyone into the wall at all.”

While he paused for a slow, shaky
breath, Alicia tried to soothe him. “In that case, there’s no reason to bring
it up to the master at all, is there? I’ve got a touch of the insomnia, and I
thought a breath of fresh air would be just the thing. I’m sure you’ll be here
to protect me when I come back this way, will you not?”

“Oh, yes! Heavens yes, ma’am,
I’ll be right here, and I’ll be waiting, and I won’t be sleeping even for a
second, and I promise not to knock you into any more walls even if I am asleep,
ma’am, you can count on that.”

Alicia gave him a brisk nod.
“Excellent.” She turned and continued down the corridor, hoping to avoid a
hysterical burst of nervous laughter until she at least gained the garden. Luck
was with her, and she managed to maneuver the remaining steps to the side door
without running into any other servants.

Her first breath of cold, crisp
air filled her lungs and cleared her mind. Good Lord, what a close call! She
wasn’t sure she could pull off even a few moments of “Elizabeth” with her heart
beating so wildly in her chest.

She was still a little early.
Perhaps the best plan would be to hide until he arrived, if he hadn’t yet. That
way, she could discover what plans the lying rogue had for Elizabeth. If he
dared to appear with a bouquet of flowers, she’d shove them down his throat until
he choked.

Alicia crossed to the garden
entrance and ambled inside. She drifted down one aisle and another, peering
across hedges for a glimpse of Ian. After several minutes of aimless wandering,
she headed back toward the garden gate.

Her husband was nowhere to be
found, but lying in the center of a small stone bench was a single red rose
with a note tied to its stem by a ribbon.

Anticipation burbled in her
stomach as she crept forward. Gingerly plucking the rose from the seat, Alicia
plopped onto the cold bench and untied the slender ribbon. The attached paper
fell onto her lap. Twisting sideways to catch the most moonlight, she unfolded
the note’s creases and stared as the words leapt from the page.

“Elizabeth,” began the large,
bold script. “I am so sorry. I don’t know how to explain, but I must be honest.
Although still a bachelor while I knew you, I am a married man now, and take my
vows very seriously.”

Alicia swallowed. Perhaps her
husband did not wish to rekindle his midnight love affair after all.

“My wife must come first in all
things,” the note declared. “Although ours is not a love match, it is my desire
and my duty to make the most of our marriage in any way that I can.”

Rubbing at her patches, Alicia
drew an icy breath. Perhaps she was more of a cad than he.

“My wife deserves my unwavering
loyalty and respect,” he continued, “and in return I'd like to earn her trust.
To this end, I must beg you not to seek me out. Ever. I cannot see you again.
Regretfully, your Rogue.”