Pursuing The Traitor (Scandals and Spies Book 5)

by Leighann Dobbs

She stifled a sigh. With a falsely bright smile, she told Brackley, “I didn’t want to miss the beauty of the morning.”

  A groove deepened next to his mouth, his expression amused. When he leaned closer, her breath caught. He lowered his mouth next to her ear, and she breathed in his manly scent. Cedar with a hint of starch. Her heartbeat quickened. His breath tickled the shell of her ear.

  “Do let me know if you find anything, would you?”

  Without waiting for her to agree—not that she would since she still didn’t know on which side his loyalties resided—Brackley turned on his heel and entered the manor by way of the terrace doors. Light reflected off the glass as he shut the lattice doors behind him. Lucy squinted. When the glare from the reflection abated, he was nowhere within sight.

  Good, she told herself as she rubbed her sweaty palms against her skirt. Now she had time and privacy to concoct some semblance of a plan to find Monsieur V. If he was among Lady Leighton’s guests, Lucy would know by the end of the day.

  The lucky thing about house parties was that all the guests were, at one point or another, crammed into the same room. Such was the case later that afternoon. Lucy had lingered in the breakfast room, drinking far too many cups of tea as she’d tried to glimpse the face of every man to enter. When that had still left some lingering doubt as to whether one of the guests had snuck out for a morning ride or hunt, Lucy had dragged Charlie and Mrs. Vale on a tour of the manor in search of diversion. In Lucy’s case, the only diversion she was interested in was a man who she recognized. She didn’t find him.

  As the day wore on, the sky frosted over and the wind picked up, chasing anyone who thought to go outdoors back inside. The party congregated in the biggest of Lady Leighton’s parlors, where she served tea and seed cake and played a parlor game.

  Monsieur V wasn’t in attendance. Lucy stared at the male guests with such intensity, just in case one had disguised his true appearance beneath cosmetics the way the actors had at the theater, for so long that most likely thought her addled. Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be wearing their genuine faces. None were the man for whom she searched.

  Sighing inwardly, Lucy chose a spot at the edge of the room by the window, hoping to be overlooked as she peered outside. It was difficult to do when Charlie insisted on including her in the game.

  Movement caught her eye. A figure outside. Was that…Brackley? She turned, surveying the room, only now realizing that she hadn’t felt that prickle of awareness indicating his presence. She’d been so focused on finding Monsieur V that she hadn’t thought to look for the other man dogging her footsteps.

  But why was he out there, in the deteriorating weather, when he should have been in the house with everyone else? When Lucy turned her attention to the window once more, she found Brackley crouching over something near the edge of the property. He stood, surveyed the house, and then walked on.

  Just what was he doing? Her instincts buzzed, insisting that this would be well worth uncovering. But first she had to excuse herself from the game.

  She sidled closer to Mrs. Vale, murmuring, “I don’t feel quite the thing. I think I might lie down for a spell before supper.”

  A furrow formed between the woman’s eyebrows as she glanced at Lucy. “Maybe a walk outside might do you some good.”

  Lucy nodded. If she wasn’t destined to be allowed to sneak off to speak with Brackley herself, taking her chaperone with her was the next best thing. Ever since she’d woken up this morning, Mrs. Vale had kept an unusually close eye on Lucy. Apparently, she hadn’t believed Lucy’s tale of writing in her notebook instead of attending the ball. Even if it was partially true.

  Charlie, seated diagonally, twisted to look over her shoulder. “What are you whispering about?”

  “Lucy is feeling a bit off and would like to take a tour of the gardens.”

  The grounds, was more like it. She’d already thoroughly investigated the gardens and terrace without finding clues to Monsieur V. Brackley, having encountered her there, knew as much. Why had he wanted her to tell him of her findings? So he could thwart her efforts or take them over himself? She still didn’t know for which side he played.

  What use could he have examining the edge of the property like that? Lucy didn’t know, but as Charlie eagerly added her wishes to join them out of doors, Lucy inwardly smiled. One way or another, she was going to discover Brackley’s secrets.

  Although the open invitation to Lady Leighton’s party would suggest that Monsieur V had influence over her—a guest or a servant perhaps—Alex had been chasing the spymaster’s shadow for long enough to know better. Monsieur V was a master at disguise, at blending in to any scenery and blurring the memories of those who encountered him using little more than his words. However, he wouldn’t be able to hide in plain sight at this house party; not so long as Lucy was in attendance. For whatever reason, Monsieur V’s usual tricks hadn’t seemed to work on her. Or so Morgan suspected. And, for all that the man seemed bent on keeping Alex away from Lucy before Alex had given him any cause, Alex didn’t think the Duke of Tenwick a fool. He would wager his eyeteeth that Lucy still remembered every detail about the encounter. She was, after all, a novelist. Given the way she’d seemed to revel in the interrogation, paying rapt attention to him despite the air of danger he’d been trying to cultivate, Alex suspected that she made a habit of memorizing moments and conversations to scribble down in that little book of hers.

  If Monsieur V couldn’t risk attending the party, disguising himself as a servant was equally risky. Lucy could turn down the wrong corridor at the wrong time and find him out. Therefore, the most logical course of action that the spymaster would have taken would be to sneak onto the property while the ball was in full swing to mask his actions.

  Never, for a moment, did Alex believe that Monsieur V had gone through the trouble of leaving Lucy the note and instructions only to miss their meeting. The spymaster wanted something from her, even though Alex hadn’t yet puzzled out what that something might be. Unless, of course, the fiend hoped to use Lucy against her brother. Would it work? Undoubtedly. Alex had never witnessed a family as close-knit as that of the Graylockes. He and his family certainly hadn’t given each other the time of day. In fact, he’d gone out of his way to disappoint his father. Now that both he and Camden were dead, Alex regretted those actions deeply.

  Kidnapping Alex and holding him for ransom probably wouldn’t have done a damn thing except make his father angrier at him. Capturing the youngest Graylocke sibling, on the other hand… Morgan would stop at nothing to see her safe return.

  A small part of him whispered of another possibility, that Lucy was in no danger at all. That she had been meeting with Monsieur V because she was in league with him. A Graylocke, a traitor? He couldn’t fathom it. Maybe it was his own folly in falling for a pretty face, but he believed her when she said that she had no prior contact with Monsieur V.

  With a sigh, he continued his search of the perimeter of the property, checking for signs of intrusion. The wind, blustering harder and harder throughout the afternoon, cut through his coat. He endeavored to ignore it as he worked. Unfortunately, there were far too many places where Monsieur V might have slipped onto the property unnoticed. A grove of trees approached far too close to the terrace, scarcely fifteen feet away. It would provide cover for someone skilled at concealing himself.

  As Alex turned, he spotted the figures of three women striding toward him. Bollocks. He recognized Mrs. Vale in the rear, two steps behind the two women whispering with their heads together. Despite the glare he received from the chaperone, he waited to greet the women. Lucy had a gleam in her eye as she steered her friend toward him. The wind tossed the wisps of her hair falling free from her braid. It turned her cheeks pink with vigor.

  As the women came within speaking distance, Alex smirked and gave Lucy a full mocking bow, as if he was being presented to the Prince Regent. “Lady Lucy, what an unexpected pleasure. Mrs. Vale, Miss Vale.” He incline
d his head to each. “You ladies appear rather chilled. Shall I accompany you back into the manor.”

  Lucy cocked up her chin. If she was trying to look down her nose at him, she would have to grow at least a foot taller. His smirk widened at her attempt at indifference. From the way she’d led the others directly to him, her main purpose in venturing out of doors had been to encounter him. At least, that had certainly become her purpose once she’d spotted him, if it hadn’t been before.

  Her companion, Miss Vale, crunched her nose and asked, “Have we been introduced?”

  Alex fought the urge to glance at her mother. Although he knew Mrs. Vale, mostly by reputation rather than a more personal acquaintance, he had never been introduced to her daughters. Or, come to think of it, to Lucy, either. He’d steered clear of the proper ton events as much as possible, yet another source of outrage to his father. Before he’d inherited a title he’d never thought would fall to him, Alex had eschewed polite company in favor of associating with the degenerates and derelicts of Society.

  “Forgive me,” he answered Miss Vale. “I guessed your identity from your companion.” He nodded to Lucy.

  He half-expected her to challenge his propriety as well, but instead she neglected to comment on the nature of their association in favor of addressing his previous comment.

  “Thank you for your concern, Lord Brackley, but we are not at all cold. In fact, I find the weather quite stimulating.”

  He met her gaze, struggling to contain his amusement. “Do you?”

  Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I do. That is why you’re out here, isn’t it, my lord? Enjoying the brisk fresh air?”

  “That I am. It is quite stimulating, as you’ve said.”

  “There are many delights to be found on a stroll out of doors.”

  Was she attempting to quiz him on what he’d found? He glanced at the Vales, trying to discern whether or not they caught Lucy’s game. Miss Vale was frowning at her friend, though she hadn’t released Lucy’s arm. Mrs. Vale looked pensive, perhaps even suspicious.

  Although Alex didn’t want to arouse her suspicions further, he couldn’t help but tease Lucy with shreds of the truth. They couldn’t speak plainly without the others catching onto their game, but this volley of half-truths couched in polite chatter held a certain challenge.

  And Lucy was a worthy opponent. Quick of mind, and quick with a retort.

  “Many delights to be found, indeed. What a large property Lady Leighton has.”

  “Not so large. Tenwick Abbey is two, if not three times the size.”

  Her companion, Miss Vale, added, “More than that, I think, if you count the lawn.”

  The comment was innocent enough. She didn’t seem to realize that his and Lucy’s conversation had a deeper meaning. He offered a smile as he amended, “I meant compared to the size of the household. Tenwick Abbey has many more servants.” Seeing as it was a training ground for new spies, to the best of his knowledge, the Tenwick ancestral estate had more servants at any one time than it needed. Most were engaged in activities that had little to do with the estate.

  Miss Vale nodded, seemingly accepting that answer. Mrs. Vale, on the other hand, watched with narrowed eyes.

  Turning his attention back to Lucy, who struggled to conceal a smirk and failed, he added, “A household this small must struggle to keep up with the grounds.”

  Did she understand what he was trying to say? Although perhaps it was imprudent to share the details of his investigation, he found a perverse sort of pleasure in couching his meaning in their innocent chatter.

  Lucy’s eyes gleamed. Her fingers twitched as if she yearned to reach for her notebook and pencil. “There isn’t much in the way of grounds to maintain. The trees encircle it.”

  “Quite right. They nearly abut the terrace ’round the side there.” Without taking his eyes off Lucy, he gestured toward the corner of the manor.

  She lifted her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Such a shame Lady Leighton has no children. It sounds like a marvelous place to play hide and seek.”

  Alex didn’t know for certain whether that had been Monsieur V’s point of entry. He abandoned the secret conversation in favor of teasing Lucy outright.

  With a grin, he asked, “Were you considering starting up a game? I should warn you, you haven’t the faintest chance of going unseen. You’re far too noticeable a woman.”

  From the way she narrowed her eyes, she didn’t appreciate the comment. In fact, he suspected she was moments away from resorting to a juvenile retort like sticking out her tongue. The notion of rendering her so incapable of speech made him fight an even bigger smile.

  She turned to her companion. “You know, now that I’ve been out of doors for more than a moment, I think I am chilled. Charlie? Are you ready to go inside?”

  Alex bit back a laugh. Retreating so easily? They’d barely started. He caught the shrewd look on Mrs. Vale’s face and tried to contain himself.

  Unlike the previous times when they’d met, he and Lucy were not alone. He wasn’t at liberty to act freely with her. If he did, the others might notice the magnetic pull between them. As much as Alex fought to conceal it, he couldn’t keep his awareness of her in check. The way a strand of her hair batted against her cheek from the wind. The way her eyes sparkled and her mouth pursed as she spoke. She was beautiful, but that was only the tip of the iceberg to her allure. Her liveliness, her cleverness drew him as much as or more than her beauty.

  Not that he could act upon it. Doubly so while under Mrs. Vale’s watchful eye. He’d already been warned away from her once.

  So he restrained himself as Lucy led the trio back toward the manor. The wind continued to whip at him, sending cold fingers down the collar of his jacket. He stared after her a moment more before collecting himself and continuing his inspection.

  One way or another, he was going to find Monsieur V. And he shouldn’t allow himself to get too close to Lucy—because he might need to put her in harm’s way in order to do it.

  9

  Brackley was trying to hide something from her, and Lucy was determined to discover what. This afternoon, even after she’d gone inside, he’d remained outdoors. He’d teased her with only a bit of information…if, indeed, that had been information he’d been passing, disguised as banal chitchat. Perhaps she’d read more into it than had been intended. He might simply be an uninspired conversationalist.

  In all the other times they’d encountered each other, he hadn’t bored her, so she liked to think that he had been trying to communicate with her. That he’d been trying to tell her that Monsieur V had hidden in the forest near to the terrace as he waited for her to arrive for their meeting.

  Or had that been where Brackley had lain in wait, only sneaking around behind her after she’d dallied by the railing?

  The surest way to discover what Brackley was hiding was to search his room. Unfortunately, that might also be the surest way to ensure that she be forced to marry him. Despite the sparks of attraction that flew between them, rekindled every time they met, a marriage to Brackley was the very last thing Lucy wanted. Charlie wanted to enjoy her freedom a little longer, and Lucy couldn’t blame her. Her experience with her brothers was that they tended to act overprotective of her and tried to shelter her as though she was a child.

  Brackley doesn’t do that. Lucy’s brothers never would have shared information about an ongoing spy mission; they hadn’t even told her they were spies. Brackley, on the other hand, had hidden the information in a seemingly innocent conversation. Not only sharing it, but presuming that she was intelligent enough to understand what he was saying.

  As thrilling as it was to decipher such information and be let in on the mission for once, that still was no reason to marry him. If Lucy was to search his room for signs of his allegiance, she had best do so undetected. The consequences to her reputation otherwise might prove irreversible.

  Gritting her teeth, she tried to keep the agitation from her body as s
he slipped onto the staircase leading toward the guests’ quarters. Although the guests were otherwise occupied—the men in the library, drinking port and smoking cheroots with Lord Leighton, and the women working on their needlepoint with Lady Leighton in the front parlor—the servants still milled throughout the house. For all Brackley’s talk of Lady Leighton keeping a small household, Lucy couldn’t seem to step out of a room without encountering someone.

  Miraculously, when she reached the top of the stairs, she found the corridor deserted. Her heart hammering, she knew she didn’t have much time alone. Smothering the small voice in her head that told her this was a poor idea, she turned away from the women’s quarters and strode down the men’s. She’d seen Brackley disappear into one of these rooms earlier when the entire party had ventured upstairs to change for supper.

  Counting the doors until she found his, she tested the latch and found it unlocked. She slipped into the room and shut the door behind her, pressing her weight against it to keep it closed.

  The interior of the room was dark and cold. Clearly, it hadn’t been used since before supper. Lucy waited, the blood roaring in her ears and obscuring the sound of any other occupants. No movement stirred that she could see. Slowly, her eyes adjusted and she was able to make out the silhouette of the furniture in the room. The chamber, not much bigger than hers, was crammed with furniture. Was that a candle on the writing desk? After pressing her ear to the door to ensure that no one was coming, she slipped closer to the desk and groped for the item. It was a candle, and a tinderbox, too.

  When she lit the candle, the warm orange glow lit the room. She considered what she had to work with and decided that there wasn’t much here that would consist of Brackley’s personal belongings. The furnishings were provided by Lady Leighton, and therefore were unlikely to contain any hidden compartments. Lucy checked for some anyway, starting in the writing desk before moving on to the drawers in the armoire and the posts of the bed. She had discovered the hidden compartments in Morgan’s desk, so she liked to think that if there had been anything to find, she would have done so.