“Mrs. Daventry can be somewhat demanding at times, but she is not unkind.” Amy snatched up a bundle of clothes. “The master is a very sweet man. He’s almost twenty years older than Mrs. Daventry and I think she bullies him a little, but she’s good for him. Keeps him young.”
Before Orelia could ask any more questions, a thin woman with dark hair pulled tightly back entered. With keys slung from her belt and a dark, plain uniform, it was clear this was Mrs. Green.
“This is the girl?” she asked Amy.
Orelia stood. “Y-yes. Miss Anita Sherbourne.” She somehow managed not to stumble over her new name. “I am grateful you took the time to see me.”
Mrs. Green’s lips thinned. “It seems your brother is quite the persuasive man.” Amy blushed and scurried away, linens in hand. “But you are lucky. We were about to advertise for the new position.” She nodded her head toward the papers Orelia was holding. “Those are your references I assume.”
“Yes. I worked at Keswick Abbey. The duke has seen fit to write my letter of recommendation.”
The woman arched a brow and scanned the letter. “He speaks highly of you. Why would you leave such a place?”
“I wanted to be nearer to my brother,” Orelia intoned, recalling all the lies she and Reed had come up with in case there were questions.
“Well, you certainly seem to have the experience even if you are a bit young in my opinion. I’ll see if the mistress is available to give you an audience.”
“Thank you.” The hammering of Orelia’s heart eased a little.
She waited in the kitchen until another maid came to fetch her and lead her to the mistresses’ drawing room. The young woman gave her a reassuring smile and led her in. By all accounts, the staff were pleasant. Would they be so nice if they worked for a criminal? From what little she knew of Mr. Daventry, she could hardly imagine he was the type to get involved in such a sinister plot.
She supposed she would soon find out.
***
Reed paced across the park. Grass crunched beneath his boots. He paused briefly under a tree, glanced at the house and paced back.
This was taking too long. What could they possibly need to know about her? He should never have sent her in there alone.
He swiveled, looked at the house and covered the length of the park once more. She was inexperienced, damn it. What was he thinking? If something happened to her…
Stilling, he narrowed his gaze. About time!
He strode over to the figure dashing away from the building. Orelia beamed at him as she raced over. Inwardly, he grimaced. He recognized that look. It was the same as when some whelp of a man took on his first mission. The thrill of it was currently tearing through her, making her skin hot and her pulse beat wildly. She wouldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day, he’d wager.
What had he done?
“Reed,” she said, her voice breathy. “Reed!”
He put a hand to her arm. “Take a moment,” he said, peering around. “Let us move away from here first.”
“I was so scared,” she puffed while he dragged her along. “I thought I was going to get caught.”
He ignored her until they were far from the house. Motioning to a small bench along the side of a quiet road, he made her sit.
“Breathe,” he commanded.
She took a long inhale. “He’s innocent,” she spilled out. “Goodness, Reed, I thought for certain they would see through me. Your letter must have worked. The mistress wanted to see me and even the stern housekeeper seemed impressed.”
“What did you find out?” he asked slowly.
“You should have seen me. I was shaking like a leaf. Thankfully they thought it was because of the interview.”
“Orelia,” he warned.
“Yes, well, I spoke to the mistress and when she dismissed me, I became lost.” Her grin widened. “I made it all the way down to the cellar without being seen. You’ll never believe what I found.”
His stomach sank a little. She had been there to find out about their suspect, nothing more. Certainly not sneak around their house. That was his job.
“What did you find?”
“The wine!”
With her eyes all lit up, her smile wide and trusting, he could not help think how beautiful she was. She had tied her hair up carefully today to ensure she gave the right impression. It was intended to make her look more serious. Yet all he could think was how it meant he could admire her without hinderance, how it made her look so young and innocent.
How he had entirely corrupted that by involving her in underhanded dealings…
Reed forced himself to focus in on her words. “You found the wine?”
“Yes. All of it, I believe.” She held up three fingers. “Not a drop had been touched.”
He shook his head. “You took a huge risk.”
“The housekeeper found me just as I had stepped out. I told her I was lost. Goodness, Reed, I thought I was going to be in so much trouble, but she seemed to believe me.”
“You were lucky.” He couldn’t resist. He cupped her cheek. “What were you thinking?”
She shrugged. “It seemed the easiest solution. If I had a look around while I was there, you would not have to. It was just luck that I came across the cellar, though.”
“You did that, so I would not have to go in?”
She nodded. “And now we know it is certainly not Mr. Daventry.”
Reed stared at her. “Orelia, you are surely the foolhardiest woman I have ever met.”
A crease appeared between her brows. Her shoulders dropped a little. “You’re displeased.”
Reed shook his head. “Never. How could I ever be displeased with you?” He stroked her cheek. “You have removed one suspect in the space of a day. You’ve done wonderfully.”
That beautiful smile appeared again. It punched him in the heart. Damnation, why did she have to be so irresistible?
Leaning in, he swept his lips across hers. “You were wonderful,” he assured her before doing it again.
She flung her arms around his neck and pulled him close. The kiss became frantic. He tried to hold himself back, really he did, knowing that this excitement she felt was the thrill of having done something risky, and likely nothing to do with needing to kiss him.
Or was it?
Whatever it was, he could not help himself be swept up in it too. His Orelia had done so well. Who would have thought a sweet gypsy girl could outperform some of the best spies he knew?
“You did so well,” he muttered again, drinking in the sweet taste of her and the way her hands held him tight to her.
Reed kept her face in his hands, fearful of letting her go. What else would she do if he did? Solve the case entirely on her own? Confront the would-be killer? Take the poisoner in irons and hand him over to Boney? Somehow, he suspected this woman was capable of anything.
By some miracle, he forced himself away from her delicious mouth. He held her and searched her face. Breaths heavy, smile wide, it was clear the thrill continued to race through her.
“You were scared?”
She nodded.
“But you enjoyed it, did you not?”
She nodded again.
He chuckled. “Well, my dear Orelia, you will have another chance to play spy. Whilst you have been gallivanting around and solving the case, I have found an excellent opportunity to see if suspect number two is involved.”
“What is that?”
“A ball.” He grinned. “I am taking you to a ball.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Reed.” Orelia stilled on the bottom step leading into the house. “I cannot do this.”
Reed grinned. “Yes you can.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “You’re a bully.”
“Absolutely.”
He offered her an arm and she took it. His grin widened. He’d always known Orelia was beautiful and had to admit, he had come to appreciate her simple beauty. It meant no waiting ar
ound for her to dress in layers and force herself into stays and stockings. Her hair took moments to brush and tie in a ribbon.
However, tonight, he’d been very willing to wait after seeing how stunning she looked with her hair coiled high on her head. Tiny cream blossoms of some kind adorned her hair. The long column of her cream dress accentuated her elegant figure while the low neckline drew his attention to her dusky skin. She was an intriguing mix of pure innocence with those wide, dark eyes, and sensuality with her full lips and the rise of her bust. The maids had done a wonderful job with her.
“You will be magnificent,” he murmured as he led her up the steps into Knowle House.
“Everyone will know,” she whispered. “Once they see me, they will know I am not one of them.”
He paused and moved her aside so that other attendees could pass them by. “Just remember, let me do the talking and you will be fine.”
He saw her swallow and she nodded. Offering her his arm once more, he led her into the building. Her sharp inhale reminded him she wasn’t used to such decadent surroundings. Knowle House was lit to perfection with glistening chandeliers. Long mirrors reflected the light and the golden frames around each huge portrait in the hallway glowed. It was not as grand as his own home could be when decked up for a ball, but it was the first Orelia had ever attended so he should not be surprised at her awe.
“You are a marquesa remember? You see this all the time,” he whispered.
Orelia clamped her mouth shut and nodded slightly. Her grip on him tightened and he felt a tiny tremble in her body. Here was a woman who could sneak with the best of them but put her in a room with his peers and she was terrified. Were they really that petrifying a bunch?
He led her through into the ballroom. One heavy chandelier dominated the oval shaped room. Long windows looked out onto the center courtyard and lamps had been strung along the box trees to light the grand space. The scent of powder and cigar smoke lingered in the air. The trembling in Orelia didn’t cease.
Reed murmured their names to the Master of Ceremonies, who announced them as the duke and marquesa. A few heads spun their way.
While he nodded his greeting to several friends and acquaintances, he managed to avoid any formal introductions. He needed to get Orelia to relax first or else she might give the game away.
Leading her over to the edge of the dance floor, he found them both drinks and handed one over. “Breathe,” he reminded her.
The minuet had been danced and the dancers were now onto the next dance—Lord Dalkeith’s Reel he believed. He had conjured up an ankle injury for himself so that they did not need to dance. However, he could not help notice how mesmerized by it all Orelia was. Though, he should not be surprised. All ladies loved to dance, did they not? Why would Orelia be any different.
“The dances look more fun than they are,” he lied.
Unfortunately, the expressions on the dancer’s faces belied his words. They were all pink-cheeked and excited, particularly the young women around Orelia’s age.
“One gets very hot and bothered after a dance or two.”
She nodded absently, her gaze fixed on the young ladies while they moved.
“I never really much enjoyed them,” he continued.
“I cannot believe that.”
He lifted a shoulder. “For the past few years, dancing has merely been a tool. I use it to gain information and study the guests. I can’t remember the last time I genuinely enjoyed it.”
“What a shame.”
The mournful look on her face tugged at his heart. He peered around the ballroom and found whom he believed to be their suspect. They had never met in person, despite similar social circles. Reed had been too busy spying while it seemed Lord Trowbridge travelled a great deal.
With excellent posture, gleaming black hair and slim figure, Lord Trowbridge had already found himself surrounded by ladies. He lost his wife to consumption just over a year ago it seemed. Many women would be hoping this night was their chance to catch his eye and become wife number two.
What would they all think if they knew this handsome chap was a potential killer?
He offered Orelia his arm and took the empty glass from her to place on a passing footman’s tray. “Come, we must speak with Lord Trowbridge.”
“What are you going to ask him?”
Reed shrugged. “I shall find out soon enough.”
She stared at him. “How is it you are so content having no plan at all? I have never known a man to improvise so much.”
He grinned. “That is because you have never known me.” He lowered his voice. “I would have thought having no plans appealed to your free spirit, Orelia. Do not tell me you’ve lost your taste for a life of freedom.”
“Never, but I still like to know what I’m doing!” she declared.
“Well, we are going to push our way through that huge gathering of ladies and introduce you to Lord Trowbridge. Perhaps he will be so blinded by your beauty that he shall give the game away instantly.”
A blush appeared on her cheeks and Reed grinned again. Christ, he loved her blush. He needed to charm her more often.
“Why do you blush?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her lips.
“I am not beautiful.”
“You are. And you should be told as much with such frequency that you find yourself bored with the words.”
A half-smile flickered on her lips and she shook her head. But as much as she might brush his compliment aside, he noted the effect it had on her. Her breathing had slowed, she’d lifted her shoulders.
They made their way around the ballroom while the next dance was called. The shuffle meant several ladies had to disperse and find their partners, much to their obvious disappointment.
“Lord Trowbridge.”
The man glanced over Reed before his gaze landed on Orelia. Just as Reed had hoped, a spark of admiration lit in his eyes. Reed somehow managed to keep his smug smile to himself but he could hardly blame their host for falling for her. In a bevy of pale misses, Orelia stood out like a shining gem with her intriguing dusk skin, shining dark hair and wide eyes and lips.
“Forgive me...” the lord said.
“Reed St. Vincent, Duke of Keswick.”
“Your Grace, yes, of course. I heard you announced but I could not see over the crowds. Do forgive my ignorance.”
“Not at all. May I introduce the Marquesa of Ardales.
Trowbridge dipped his head and Orelia curtsied. The moment the viscount lifted his head, he latched his gaze onto hers. “Marquesa? What brings you to England, my lady?”
Orelia smiled but only Reed saw the panic in her gaze.
“I’m afraid the marquesa does not speak a word of English. Her husband died in the war and she has come to England to learn a little English and likely find another husband. My mother has put me in charge of such a task.”
“What a delightful task that must be,” Trowbridge murmured.
Reed wondered if the man had forgotten she couldn’t understand English already.
Orelia fluttered her fan in front of her face and offered a bashful smile. Reed smothered a chuckle. Gone was the shy, shaking, clearly terrified woman. In her place was a master of disguise. He really could not have picked a better woman to help him. He’d known she was quick on her feet from the beginning after she told his fortune—or pretended to at least—but he could not have imagined she would slip in so easily with members of the ton.
He tried to draw Trowbridge into discussion of his travels but Orelia did a far too fine a job of distracting him. She shook her head as she pretended not to understand him, then cocked it delicately. She giggled occasionally and managed a faint nod as though she might have comprehended just a few of his words. Everything about her had Trowbridge rapt. Of course, if Reed had not known of the act, he might well have found himself spellbound too.
Hell, he was already. By the real Orelia.
They began to draw a crowd of men.
A few tried to entice her into a dance, but she shook her head and Reed explained she was not yet ready to dance after the death of her husband. Somehow this did not put them off. He could see the hunger in their eyes. They wanted to be the one to coax this unique beauty out of her mourning. They wanted to cure her broken heart.
At some point, the game grew weary to Reed. The men gathered a little too close, trying to outdo each other with tales of their various exploits and wealth. Even Trowbridge appeared annoyed. A possessive look came over his face as he watched Orelia fend off her suitors and Reed ground his teeth. It was just a game, yes, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed someone looking at her as though he might be able to possess her.
She flicked a glance at him and jerked her head toward Trowbridge. Reed cursed himself. Here he was, getting furious over a little flirting and missing out on his opportunity to speak with the man. Whilst all the other young bucks kept Orelia occupied, Reed had his chance.
Reed cleared his throat. “I must thank you for allowing us to attend at the last moment.”
“Not at all. After all my travelling, I am keen to make new acquaintances. I believe we have attended the odd event or two together in the past but never really met. I heard you travelled too, is that how you met the marquesa?”
“Actually, no. My mother met her whilst in France. She was married at the time and they corresponded. My mother does like to take these young women under her wing, I find.”
“And you are in charge of finding her a new husband?”
Reed didn’t answer.
“I am right, I see. Why do you not snap her up yourself? Has she been left penniless?”
“Not at all.” Reed didn’t know why he’d said that. It would only encourage Trowbridge. But for some reason, he did not want Orelia to be subjected to any derision tonight. Let her enjoy the attention of them thinking she was something she was not. After all, he knew the truth. He knew she was so much more than money and a title. Hell, he’d take that simple gypsy girl over a marchioness any day.
He took a drink from a passing footman and shrugged. “I am not ready to wed, even to a woman like the marquesa. Besides, I enjoy conversation. I would not enjoy a quiet wife.”
A Rake for All Seasons: A Regency and Victorian Romance Boxset Page 12