“Very well, sir. If you don’t mind, I need to get back to the Abbey as soon as I can. MacLean was revising a plan with the Duke to draw the spies out into the open. I hope they choose not to do so until I return. Is there anything you would like me to add to my report when I return to them, sir?”
“I don’t think I have anything else to add, O’Brien. Return to the Abbey as quick as you can. They need you there more than I need you here. Send word if you need any backup, but I’m supposing that you will have that covered.” Ioan caught a slight nod from the other man. “Well, man, what the hell are you still doing here? Go save them!” Ioan pushed O’Brien out his door.
* * *
Back at the Abbey
Juliana, on hearing male voices coming from the library, found her way to the room. She recognized one as Marcus which led her to believe that the other was MacLean. She slipped into the room and watched as both men hunched over a heavy tome. She heard some rustling coming from behind her and didn’t see the hand that tilted her chin forward. The person was nearly as tall as she was.
She heard the whisper, “Where are the papers?”
What papers? It dawned on her. Her father’s papers…the papers she had translated. Those papers had told her about the murders of her parents and Marcus’s father.
She gasped and whispered, “My father’s papers? I don’t have them. They were lost long ago. What do you want with me?”
The hand cupping her jaw from behind tightened. “You ignorant little bitch. The last couple of months have been hell because of you. You and that bastard of an uncle kept secrets from me. Your uncle died because of his duplicity, being a double agent. You, on the other hand, feigned memory loss to keep your secrets. I should have shot you instead of spooking your damn horses those many years ago. Standing with you during your short-lived season was the biggest pain. My bosses were beyond furious.” The woman sounded exasperated, frustrated, and beyond angry.
Juliana recognized the voice of the woman behind her. It was Henrietta, her cousin.
Her cousin had murdered her uncle? Uncle Basil was a double agent? Why hadn’t Jacob or Marcus known about that?
“Henrietta, what are you talking about?” Juliana whispered as Henrietta dragged her back toward an open doorway, one that she never knew was there. She had to make some noise so the men knew what was happening.
“Marcus!” Juliana screamed just as she felt something hit her head and all she saw was darkness.
* * *
Marcus turned when he saw a figure dragging his wife into a secret tunnel, one they had seen on a drawing inside the tome that he and MacLean were discussing. He looked at MacLean and pointed toward the now closed secret passageway. The two men picked up their weapons—a pair of dueling pistols—and made to follow the intruder.
It did not take long for Marcus and MacLean to catch up to the kidnapper and his wife, who hung almost limp in a woman’s grip. A silver glint in her eye caught Marcus’s eye as he eyed the felon. She looked familiar, and there was no doubt about her sex. The nondescript hair and facial features belonged to only one person—Juliana’s one-time chaperone, Henrietta.
“Step back, Your Grace, or your wife will endure my wrath,” Henrietta said with a shocking amount of hatred.
“Why are you here, Henrietta? I thought we left you in London with Lord Basil?” Marcus asked, knowing the real answer.
“You did, Your Grace. But, once I realized that Basil was a double agent for the British, I made sure he never spoke to his superior about what my organization was up to. Killing him made me more reliable with the Order. The sooner both of my cousins are out of the way and I have the papers, the sooner I can seek my reward in France.” Henrietta held Juliana closer and the knife pricked the skin of her neck.
Juliana was in distress, but there was nothing Marcus could do.
“I assume you know that I’m not the only member of the Order in this house?”
Shocked, Marcus was momentarily distracted. He needed to get his mind back on Juliana.
“Yes, Your Grace, there is another, but I will not give up that information. You will have to beat it out of me or find out on your own, which I doubt will happen. You aristocratic idiots know nothing. I know which organization you are with, and we have killed all of the older sects off. Lucky for us.”
Marcus knew Henrietta would stop talking at any moment and that time was running out for Juliana and his unborn child. He looked at MacLean and nodded.
Marcus ran and fell into Juliana, causing Henrietta to let go of the knife. Marcus watched as MacLean raised his arm, aimed his pistol, and made the shot. It took only moments to realize that the crumpled body on the floor was dead.
Juliana, no longer avoiding the rush of tears that had been threatening to spill from her eyes, buried her face in her husband’s chest. Strong arms reached around her in a comforting embrace. She felt relief when he cradled her close, lifted her, and carried her from the tunnel.
MacLean followed the couple as they left the tunnel. The danger was gone for now. But, when the news that an agent had been killed reached them, he knew the Order would retaliate—badly. They would need to put a plan in place, but that would have to wait for another time and place. The immediate danger was behind them. Now, they could be better aware of what was happening at the dowager’s house.
That was a story for another time.
Several months later
Juliana, dressed in a vibrant emerald green ball gown, gingerly made her way down the main stairs to the ballroom where she would be the hostess for her first ball. Her belly, as big as a house, stuck out from her stylish gown. Though the doctor warned her that preparing for a ball, let alone going to one, was not in style, she was not due to have the babe for several weeks, so the ball would be a welcomed diversion.
She got into line beside Marcus. She smiled and graced her hand to those who were invited to the event of the season. Of course, the usual people were there—Jacob, Aaron, Aaron’s betrothed Charlotte, and the dowager duchess. Some new faces were there, as well—MacLean and O’Brien. The brothers looked ever so slightly out of their element.
It was during these introductions that a pain ripped down her back. She gasped, which got her a brow-lifting look from Marcus. He bent over and whispered in her ear, “Are you well, love?”
“I’m just having a bit of a pain in my back, darling,” she said as another pain ripped through her.
Juliana knew what was happening right away and nodded at Marcus. MacLean was standing directly in front of him.
“MacLean, will you get Doctor MacKenzie? I think my dear wife is about to make me a father.” Marcus commanded.
MacLean went to get the doctor as Marcus gave their guests his excuses and carried his wife up the stairs, two at a time, to their chambers.
* * *
Many hours later
The soft cries of an infant vibrated through the halls. Marcus, after the doctor came to get him from his study, threw the door open to find Juliana lying on the bed. She looked exhausted beyond belief. Maddy cradled two babies.
“Juliana! Twins! How do you tell them apart?” Marcus exclaimed as he rushed to his wife.
“Marcus, I want to introduce you to your heir and his sister,” Juliana said as she nodded for Maddy to bring the babies to their father.
Marcus held his son close, looking at the boy in wonder. That they could produce two innocent babies who were beyond perfect in his eyes was incredible. He looked at Juliana and said, “Jules, thank you for such an amazing gift.” He leaned over her and kissed her with all the pent-up passion that he had held for the last several hours.
“I love you, Marcus,” Juliana said with a yawn.
“And, I love you too, my love,” Marcus replied as he watched his wife and children drift into a very peaceful sleep.
* * *
While Juliana and Marcus counted their blessings, danger lurked in their midst. It was keeping watch outside the dowager duc
hess’s house. He would remain there until his superiors called him away or told him to act. Until then, he would remain watching from the shadows, especially now that he knew who was inside the house and what information that person had.
The End
Read an excerpt of A Spy for Minerva
Lady Minerva Hatfield, the younger daughter of the Earl of Dumbrey, was sitting opposite her parents in the family carriage. They were bound for the coastal county of Kent. Their boat to France was waiting for them off Dover. She had been to the coast many times with her parents, but due to the conflict on the continent, she was not allowed to go on missions with them. She always stayed with her Uncle Basil during the several days when her parents were gone. This time, though, she was on her maiden mission with her father to gain information for the Crown.
To say she was excited was an understatement. She was anxious, nervous, and fidgety beyond belief. She would put to work all she had been taught over the years. To say her education was slightly different than most girls (or even young men), was again, quite an understatement. Minerva and her twin sister, Juliana, grew up knowing that their father was part of a spy ring for the Crown known as the Rakes. Normally, the title of “Rake” was passed down from father to son, but in her father’s instance, it was from father to his daughters since there was no son.
Crack!
The sound woke Minerva from her daydreams. The sudden feeling of being weightless went through her as the carriage overturned and threw its occupants around like rag dolls. Minerva could hear screams, but she was unsure whether they were her own or not. When the carriage finally came to a halt, the screams had faded, and everything was eerily silent.
Minerva lay dazed, afraid to open her eyes. She wondered why her father hadn’t gotten up to make sure everyone was unharmed. The thought echoed through her mind. Maybe she should open her eyes, rub off the pain, and do what her father should be doing.
As she opened her eyes, taking in the full scope of what had happened. Her mother lay under her father, her neck cocked at an unnatural angle, her eyes sightlessly staring at her. Her father had the same look in his unseeing eyes. It took her a moment to find him. A large shard of glass from the carriage’s window had embedded itself in the back of his head.
She was alone. The horses were either dead, injured, or had run away. The driver was nowhere to be seen, if he was even alive to begin with. She would have to be strong and find a way to make it back to London, to her sister. . .
* * *
Three weeks later
Lady Anne Spencer knew all too well the complications of loving a spy. Her husband, and now her son, were in the English spy network known as the Rakes of the Crown (shortened to the Rakes when the members referenced each other). That the Leader would entrust her with harboring a young woman was quite an honor, to be sure. It was unheard of for a young lady to have a woman as a guardian.
She had known the young lady’s parents. She had cried when she heard the news of their deaths. Lady Minerva Hatfield was indeed lucky that she had not been killed in the accident or otherwise murdered by highwaymen on the road back to the village. She was able to secure a seat on the mail coach heading back to London. How the girl had had the presence of mind to go to Whitehall was beyond impressive.
Anne heard the sound of horses stopping just outside the door to her massive townhouse. She looked out the lead windows and saw the Leader handing a young girl out of his carriage. Anne knew this was she. The girl would have to take a position in her household. A maid, maybe, or a scullery maid.
She heard the knock on the door and the faint voice of her butler mixed with the voice of the Leader. The sound of footsteps came to the library door where Anne was.
“My lady, there are some people here who would like to speak with you. They refused to give their names. Are you at home?” asked Jarvis.
“Yes, you may show them in, Jarvis.” Anne stood next to the sofa she had just been sitting on.
Jarvis bowed before leaving the room.
Anne could feel her excitement rising. She hadn’t seen the Leader in many years. The former Duke of Dunsbury, the Earl of Dumbrey, the Earl of Blackridge, the Marquess of Elderstone, and the Leader had worked closely together. They made up the spy ring called the Rakes. Her father and Blackridge (her husband’s father) had handpicked her as a bride for one of the Rakes. That was how the organization worked. The sons and daughters of the order were groomed to marry each other. Anne knew this from the beginning. Which brought her to the present and to the young woman who was standing with the only surviving member of the old Rakes.
“My lady Minerva Hatfield and Mr. Ioan MacKinoch are here, my lady,” Jarvis said as he bowed and motioned the guests into the room.
“Thank you, Jarvis. Will you please bring some tea and something stronger for Mr. MacKinoch?” Anne asked as she settled her guests into chairs around a small coffee table.
Jarvis bowed and promptly left the room.
“Ioan, it has been a while, old friend,” Anne said as she held her hand out for a proper greeting.
“It has, Anne. Forgive me for my absence. I will make sure from now on that I stop by more often,” came the reply from the Leader.
“Ioan, please introduce me to this young woman, if you would,” said Anne.
“Lady Minerva Hatfield, I would like to introduce you to the Countess of Blackridge, Anne Spencer.”
Minerva, remembering her manners, curtsied to the older woman.
Anne waved her hand, motioning for Minerva to stop.
“My dear child, there is no need to bow and scrape around me. Your father and my husband were compatriots and the best of friends. There is no need for formality between us. Right, Ioan?”
The Leader nodded. “Min, dear, there is no need for formality. We do need to talk about the role you will play here at Blackwood House. You have been well trained by your parents in espionage. I need you to be my eyes and ears here in Mayfair. I was hoping that Anne’s household would have more juicy gossip than what you hear from the gossip pages in the Times.”
Minerva looked at the older woman skeptically. “Lady Anne, I do know about servants’ gossip, but I don’t understand how I could pass as a maid. I was raised as a lady. Couldn’t I be a guest of the family?”
Ioan replied, “Minerva, we can’t have you in the open. Whoever killed your parents will come after you. We cannot allow that to happen. You are too valuable.”
“Then what about my sister? Where is she? You have kept me hidden for six months and I have heard nothing…nothing! I don’t feel her anymore,” Minerva said as tears formed in her lovely eyes.
She felt Lady Anne wrap her soft arms around her. A soft voice whispered, “Your sister is safe, my dear. She is with your uncle Basil. She is a strong young lady like yourself. She has been through a lot since you went missing. She has gotten into a carriage accident while trying to find you and has lost her memory. The son of a dear friend saved her. We are hoping her memory will return in time, but the doctor said it could be months, even years, before that happened. It might be better if she doesn’t remember.”
“She doesn’t remember me? Is that why I can’t feel her presence? I am so used to having her with me, always. I feel so alone!” Tears from months of agony came to her eyes.
* * *
Anne and Ioan held onto the crying girl. They watched as the tears came freely. They both knew that it was beyond time for her to mourn. The girl had been strong for long enough. She had bottled up her emotions from seeing her parents’ deaths and the loss of her sister. They held onto her as if their own lives depended on it. Both tried their best to comfort her, but they failed as the tears slipped down their faces, as well.
* * *
Minerva wiped her eyes and made herself as presentable as she could. She chastised herself for being weak. Her father had taught her to master her emotions. Emotions made everything messy—and a spy could not allow that in their lives. No messes and no
complications. This was a complication. But, she wasn’t on the books. Technically, she was not even a spy…yet! She tilted her head up and looked her guardian in the eyes.
“I don’t normally cry, my lady,” she said with a sniffle.
Anne looked at the girl. “We cannot be strong all the time, dear. Even the most seasoned spy can break down. My husband, for example. The only time he let his emotions show was when he was around his family and very close friends. Out of all of his fellow Rakes, he was the most emotional. He loved with every ounce of his being. There was a part of him, though, that was the spy. You could tell when he was working. He became cold and calculating, except when around me or our son. Showing emotion isn’t a weakness, especially around those you love.”
Minerva contemplated what her guardian had said. Lady Anne knew what she was talking about. Her husband had been one of the Rakes. Anne, herself, was a daughter of a Rake. She could take the lady at her word. She could trust Lady Anne to tell her the truth about things, even if they hurt.
“I can see you thinking all this through. I will have Mrs. Hopkins show you to your room. Because of the sensitivity of your situation, I have to have you as an above stair’s maid. My son, who is a Rake, cannot know you are here. No one but Mr. MacKinoch and I can know you are here. Mrs. Hopkins knows that you cannot be present for serving guests or meals. You are, essentially, in hiding or protective custody. Does that make sense?” Lady Anne asked.
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