Once a Spy

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Once a Spy Page 4

by Putney, Mary Jo


  “I am so glad to hear that,” Suzanne said sincerely. “Though you must miss each other dreadfully.”

  “Very, but we both have compensations.” She glanced mischievously up at Hawkins, who was at her side. He returned a swift, intimate smile that made Suzanne feel a pang of envy.

  Tanned and solid and reliable as the earth, Hawkins looked more relaxed than Suzanne had ever seen him. “I’m glad Duval has found you, Suzanne,” he said, returning her greeting. “I gather you’re cousins by marriage?”

  “We are.” Simon laid a light hand on her lower back as he replied. “I am also courting the lady, but the outcome is uncertain.”

  Suzanne felt herself flush, sure that she was red from her hairline to her décolletage. A tall woman said with amusement, “Colonel Duval, full frontal assault may work well in battle but it’s not the best of courtship techniques.”

  She offered her hand to Suzanne. Though not beautiful, she was striking and had an air of natural authority. “I’m Athena Masterson and it’s my pleasure to meet you. Since dinner is half an hour or so away, shall we ladies take a bottle or two of claret into a corner and become acquainted while the men trade their war stories?”

  “What a fine idea,” a dazzling woman with red-gold hair agreed. “You can tell us whether you want to say yes, no, or maybe to the colonel. We shall support you in whatever decision you make.” She offered her hand. “I’m Callie and that handsome blond fellow with the shifty expression is my husband.”

  The handsome blond fellow was grinning, uninsulted, and Suzanne decided this evening would be more entertaining than she’d expected. “Lead me to the claret, ladies, and let us become friends!”

  Smiling, Lady Kirkland ushered them to comfortable chairs set around the fireplace. The butler, a quick thinker, followed with claret and glasses.

  Suzanne settled in her chair, saying, “It’s early in the evening for the men and women to separate, but I’m sure the Irredeemable Rogues need time together. I hope Lord Kirkland doesn’t feel too left out.”

  Lady Kirkland chuckled at the reference to the Irredeemable Rogues. “Kirkland went to school with two of these rogues and he is eternally curious about people, so he’ll manage very well.” Her thoughtful gaze settled on Suzanne. “Have you and Colonel Duval known each other long?”

  “We met when very young. I was on the verge of marriage and Simon was a second cousin of my fiancé. We struck up a friendship, but I haven’t seen him from then until yesterday. So we’ve known each other long, but not well,” she said candidly.

  “If you’re uncertain what sort of man Colonel Duval is now, I can give him an unqualified endorsement,” Athena said seriously. “I met him in San Gabriel, a small country in the mountains between Portugal and Spain. San Gabriel had been ravished by the French, and Duval was instrumental in getting the country back on its feet.”

  “Simon said he sent Masterson on a mission that almost got him killed, and Masterson wrote him a thank-you note?” Suzanne said with a questioning tone in her voice.

  Athena laughed. “I didn’t know about the thank-you note, but it’s true that Will came far too close to being killed. Luckily he survived and was made a knight of the Order of Saint Deolinda, patron saint of San Gabriel. He got a grand shining medallion that is large enough to block bullets. Colonel Duval has one, too.”

  “What did Simon do to win such honors?” Suzanne asked.

  “The details are lengthy. Best ask him to explain,” Athena replied. “But I assure you that he acted with intelligence, compassion, and honor throughout.”

  Suzanne would have guessed as much, but it was good to hear Simon’s better qualities confirmed. Her gaze moved around the other four women. “I suspect that none of you had what is considered a normal courtship. I know your story, Rory, having seen some of it firsthand, but what about the rest of you? I’d love to hear how you met and mated with your rogues.”

  Callie grinned. “You may be sorry you asked, but I’m happy to tell you in as much or as little detail as you like.”

  “This may take more claret,” Lady Kirkland said with a mischievous smile. “A good thing Kirkland’s wine cellar is extensive!”

  Chapter 5

  As the ladies moved off en masse, Kirkland’s formality fell away and he said with amusement, “Do any of you actually prefer sherry? If not, we can collect decanters of brandy and whiskey and move to a separate corner.”

  “A fine idea,” Hawkins said, his interested gaze moving to Simon’s face. “You and Suzanne? During the voyage from Constantinople to London, I enjoyed getting to know her. A lovely woman with nerves of steel.”

  “She’ll need them if she accepts me,” Simon said dryly. The other men laughed as they settled into leather upholstered sofas at the opposite end of the room from the ladies. The alert butler followed them with a tray of decanters and tumblers.

  As Simon accepted a brandy, he studied the group, surprised how much at ease he felt even though they’d known each other only for a matter of hours, and Kirkland he’d known only by reputation.

  But though at first glance they could be any group of well-off English gentlemen at their club, a deeper study revealed more. All of these men had lived beyond the borders of fashionable society. All had navigated danger and survived, and all of them seemed to have reached places of stability and happiness. Exactly what Simon would like to find for himself.

  The feeling of ease was similar to his reaction when he’d met Suzanne. Apparently he was no longer as relaxed with people who had lived normal, uncomplicated lives. Aloud he said, “We look so respectable now that I’m not sure I’d have recognized anyone.”

  “It would be difficult to look worse than when we met after floundering about in the Douro River,” Hawkins said dryly. “That night we didn’t speak of our pasts, but I’d like to know more about everyone. Where do you come from, what have you been doing, what brought you to that cellar?”

  “My background isn’t particularly interesting,” Simon said. “Though I presented myself as French in Portugal, I’m Anglo-French. My mother was English and I’ve spent more time here than in France. When the Peace of Amiens collapsed, I decided to join the British army and eventually became a colonel of military intelligence.” He smiled a little. “Usually I did reconnaissance in uniform. I ended up in the cellar with you because of a foray out of uniform.”

  “Dangerous, that,” Masterson said with understanding. “I did the same, which is why I ended up in the cellar next to you. But in general my life has been straightforward. I was born in Oxfordshire and went to school with Kirkland.” He hesitated an instant as if wondering how much to say. “I’d always wanted to join the army, so I bought a commission and marched off to fight for king and country. I spent most of the next years on the Peninsula and I sold out of the army at the first reasonable moment.”

  “And you found yourself a magnificent Amazon on your way home,” Simon pointed out.

  Masterson laughed. “That was the best part.”

  “I’m disappointed. Remember how just before we went our separate ways in Portugal, it was acknowledged that we might be using names that weren’t entirely accurate? Yet here you two are, Duval and Masterson, as originally labeled.” The blond man grinned. “Technically I’m Kingston now, but I prefer to be called Gordon as I was in the cellar. It’s one of my names, so more or less legitimate.”

  “What was your path before and after that night?” Hawkins asked.

  “I left school when an attack of nobility got me transported to New South Wales,” Gordon said succinctly. “After I escaped from the penal colony, I wandered widely and rather randomly, doing different things in different places. After Portugal, I decided I should start working toward the redemption we discussed, so I returned to London and became something of a problem solver.”

  “And a very good one,” Kirkland said. “From a professional point of view, I regret that you’ve retired to respectability.”

  “Your f
ault for sending me on that last mission.” Gordon gestured toward Hawkins. “I needed transport across the Atlantic and Hawkins was willing to take the risks of sailing into a war zone. We deepened our acquaintance over brandy on the journey over.”

  “Speaking of changing names, I’m another who was using a variation of my own name,” Hawkins said. “Though my family name is Vance, I started using my middle name, Hawkins, when I was cashiered from the Royal Navy. After that I became a merchant seaman and eventually acquired a ship of my own through rather dubious means.” He grinned. “A very fast ship, very good for blockade running.”

  His words jolted through Simon. He leaned forward, his body tense. “Are you the Lieutenant Vance who was forced out of the navy because you carried a wounded midshipman belowdecks during an engagement? Because all your superior officers were killed or wounded, you were charged with abandoning your post during battle.”

  Hawkins stiffened. “That’s what happened. How did you know?”

  “Because the young man you rescued was my cousin, Lucas Mandeville.” Simon swallowed hard. “More like a brother, really.”

  Hawkins also leaned forward, his gaze intent. “Did he recover from his wounds? Lucas was so gravely injured that the surgeon didn’t hold out much hope and I never learned his fate.”

  “He recovered, though it took some time,” Simon replied. “He returned to active duty when he was well enough. He said that was his obligation since the navy lost a future admiral when you were cashiered for saving him.”

  Hawkins shrugged. “Perhaps, but I like the way my life has turned out. In the same circumstances, I’d do exactly the same thing again. I’m glad to hear that Lucas recovered. What has happened to him since? I’d like to see him again if that’s possible.”

  “His ship was sunk by the French and he was listed as missing in action. There’s a slim chance that he was captured and interned in France, but he sent no letters and his bank says he never wrote asking for money to make captivity more comfortable.” Simon’s mouth tightened. “It’s been almost a year since the emperor abdicated and there’s been no word, so I must accept that he’s gone.”

  “Searching for a missing friend, I became something of an expert on the various places France interned British officers,” Kirkland said slowly. “Have you had a chance to investigate your cousin’s disappearance more thoroughly?”

  “No, I’ve been busy on the Peninsula until quite recently.” Trying not to hope, Simon asked, “Did you find your missing friend?”

  “Yes, in a rather unexpected place. If you’re interested, we can discuss the material I collected while searching for Wyndham.”

  Be damned to reason; it was impossible not to feel a small flare of hope. “I’d like that very much.”

  “We’ll talk later,” Kirkland promised.

  Simon nodded his thanks, then asked, “Four out of five of us are here and looking reasonably fit and happy. Has there been any news of Chantry?”

  “I met him in Constantinople,” Hawkins said. “He was a sort of special projects aide to the British ambassador, meaning he spoke Turkish like a native and had many interesting local connections. He was invaluable in our rescue of Rory, her cousin, and Suzanne. At his request, I deposited a letter confirming his whereabouts at Hatchards. Gordon, you’ll be pleased to learn that his real name is Ramsay.”

  “Good! At least one of us was suitably sneaky,” Gordon said with a grin.

  Across the room, a footman entered and murmured something to Lady Kirkland. She nodded and rose, saying in a soft but clear voice that reached everyone in the room, “Dinner is ready, so I suggest we continue these interesting conversations in the dining room.” She smiled. “Seating will be informal, so you may sit beside your favorite person.”

  Better and better. Simon stood and made his way to Suzanne. She looked younger and happier, like the girl he’d met all those years ago.

  She rose and took his arm, her green eyes sparkling as she gazed up at him. He smiled back, thinking how much he liked her. “You enjoyed your gathering?”

  “Indeed I did! They’re a very diverse group of women and much friendlier than the aristocratic émigrés who scorned me.”

  That was enough to make Simon like the other women, even the ones he hadn’t properly met. “I look forward to conversing with them. The only one I know is Athena Masterson, whom I met in San Gabriel shortly after the emperor abdicated.”

  “I’d never heard of that country till tonight,” Suzanne said. “There is so much news of Europe that I missed while I was in Constantinople! I was intrigued to learn that you were made a member of the Order of Saint Deolinda and you have a great gaudy medallion to prove it. Would it really stop bullets?”

  “I wouldn’t stake my life on that,” Simon chuckled. “But it is impressive. Athena and Will both have the medals as well and deserve them more than I do. She’s probably too modest to tell you her story, but I will if you’re interested.”

  “I am very interested.” Suzanne’s hand tightened on his arm. “None of them flinched when I spoke of my background. It was very refreshing.”

  “You told them?” he said, a little surprised.

  “I thought if we were to be friends, I must be honest.” Her mouth twisted. “And if they despised me, no more time would be wasted.”

  “That’s a very pragmatic approach,” he said, impressed by her courage.

  “Living in a harem will remove one’s illusions.” She gave Simon a slanting glance. “The whole discussion was very frank. I think it would have sent you gentlemen fleeing if you’d heard. But we found that we had much common ground. For example, Callie, the beauty with the rose-gold hair? She also had to earn her living with her needle. I look forward to talking more with her.”

  Callie, who looked like the most delicate of aristocrats, had been a seamstress? “She must also have interesting stories.”

  Suzanne nodded. “How did your gentlemanly discussion go? You said that shared danger didn’t mean you would necessarily become friends.”

  “True, but as it turns out, we get along very well, being rogues working toward redemption.” He realized that they’d been talking while the other couples had moved past them to the dining room so both resumed walking.

  “Doing dangerous, necessary work doesn’t make you a rogue,” Suzanne said as they entered the dining room. “Foolhardy, maybe, but not a rogue.”

  “Perhaps not, but staying alive while one does such work can be very ungentlemanly.” He pulled out her chair. Since they were the last to enter the dining room, there were only two seats left and they were opposite Hawkins and Lady Rory. All the couples had chosen to sit together, and he was pleased to see that the table was narrow enough to converse across. He liked the way the Kirklands entertained.

  “As an expert in the pragmatic art of survival, I’m in no position to criticize,” she said with a touch of dryness.

  “I’d say something we all have in common is being survivors,” Simon said thoughtfully. “Hawkins, would you agree?”

  “Without question,” the other man said. “I’ve had more close calls than I care to count! Rory has had her share as well.”

  “I’m going to take notes on all these narrow escapes,” Rory said, a gleam in her eyes. “They’d make wonderful episodes in outrageous Gothic novels!”

  Suzanne chuckled. “As long as the details are changed to protect the guilty!”

  Their teasing comments were typical of the dinner conversation. The food was excellent and the discussions even better. Simon couldn’t remember a more enjoyable meal.

  He and Hawkins discussed the sailing life and memories of Hawkins’s friendship with Lucas; Athena and Callie discussed life in the war zones they’d known; and Gordon told hilarious and hopefully exaggerated stories of his traveling days.

  Kirkland listened to everything with interest, probably taking mental notes. Simon knew the other man was something of a legend in the intelligence gathering community, and
part of his success was due to his genius for collecting information.

  As the meal came to an end, Kirkland said, “Before we temporarily separate, I have a question for you since collectively your experience is vast. I’m sure you’ve all heard rumors and speculation that the emperor will escape from Elba and return to France to reclaim his throne. What do you think will happen?”

  The long silence that followed was broken by Athena Masterson. “I think that’s very likely,” she said slowly. “I recently made the acquaintance of several French soldiers in San Gabriel. Some are tired of war and want only the chance to build a peaceful life, but others know only war and have nothing else to go back to. Napoleon is still worshipped by many of his soldiers. If he returns and raises his banner, many will march again.”

  “Very true,” Simon agreed. “The new Bourbon king has not been endearing himself to his subjects and it’s said that Napoleon is growing bored with his miniature kingdom on Elba. If he can escape, he will.”

  “And sooner or later, he will escape because there are so many people willing to support him,” Masterson said soberly. “Enough of the French people will welcome him back to trigger new wars.”

  “Old wars continued.” Simon could think of many ways the situation might play out, none of them good. “He should have been exiled to a far more distant place. Botany Bay, perhaps. Elba is much too close to Italy and France.”

  Kirkland nodded, his expression grave. “That confirms my own fears. In the long run he can’t defeat the Allies, but he can devastate the Continent again before he is defeated once and for all.”

  The new silence was broken when Lady Kirkland rose to her feet. “Now that gloom has been evoked, it’s the traditional time for the ladies to withdraw to sip tea and for the gentlemen to gossip over their port. I do hope you’ll join us soon, sirs.”

 

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