How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy

by Vanessa Kelly

  “You do realize we have to take this job on?” Alec said. “Your father was not giving you the option to say no.”

  Will rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond to so obvious a point.

  “Of course,” Alec mused, “if we pull this off, we’ll be bloody heroes. Our various royal relations will be overjoyed, and you can be sure we’ll be rewarded with some tidy promotions. Maybe a knighthood, or title or two.”

  “It’s not like you need any of those,” Will said dryly.

  “No, but you do, especially since you seem bloody well set on a career in the military. Now that the war’s over there aren’t as many opportunities for promotion, as you well know. You’ll need to stay on your dear Papa’s good side to advance through the ranks.”

  “Yes, I have figured that out.”

  “And that means you’ll have to spy on your old sweetheart. Are you comfortable with that?”

  “Of course I’m not comfortable with it, you idiot, but what choice do I have?” Will surged to his feet and began pacing the room. “Besides, we were only sweethearts, as you mawkishly put it, when we were so young we didn’t know any better.”

  A sly grin curved Alec’s mouth. “Ah, now, did you ever kiss her, laddie?”

  Will halted in his tracks and glared at him. He and Evie had kissed, the summer just before her first Season. He’d been home on a visit from military college, and those slow August days had been magical because of her. Back then, he’d almost been able to imagine they might marry one day, and Evie had certainly dreamed such would be the case. They’d never truly discussed it and her parents would never have approved, but it had been a sweet, lovely fantasy while it lasted.

  But then war and the spy game had intervened, crushing Will’s adolescent fantasies to dust.

  Alec gave an insouciant shrug in response to Will’s silence. “So, how do you feel about her and this Beaumont character?”

  “If he’s using her in any way, I’ll kill him.”

  “Obviously, but what if he’s innocent? Would it bother you if Miss Whitney marries him?”

  Will wanted to deny that Evie’s marriage would affect him, but Alec was watching with a sharp, knowing gaze. Will had never been able to hide anything from his cousin, and he supposed he’d have to tell the truth if he said anything at all.

  Once he had the truth sorted out, that is.

  Fortunately, Dominic’s return to the room forestalled that discussion. “Let’s finish this up, gentlemen.” He resumed his seat behind his desk. “Our source tells us that this assassination plot could come to fruition within weeks. We have precious little on which to proceed, so you need to get on this.”

  “How do you suggest we get started?” Alec asked.

  “Lord and Lady Reese are currently hosting a house party at their Hampshire estate. I would suggest you get yourselves invited.”

  Will blew out an exasperated breath. “How? I’ve been out of touch with them for years.”

  Dominic showed his teeth in a mocking smile. “You’re a spy. You’ll think of something.”

  “That’s helpful,” Alec commented.

  “Get as close to Miss Whitney and Michael Beaumont as you can,” Dominic elaborated. “You need to get into St. Margaret’s Church and the Hibernian Association to gain access to Beaumont’s office, his correspondence, and any financial records that might provide information. And also to see who, exactly, is using the premises for meetings.” Dominic cocked an eyebrow at Alec. “You’re heir to an earldom, Alasdair. Tell them you’ve become interested in philanthropy and you’re considering a large donation.”

  Alec snorted with open disdain. “And why would a Protestant Scottish aristocrat wish to make a donation to a charity for Irish Catholics?”

  “Again, you’re a spy. Make something up.”

  Will’s mind was already turning to the task. “I assume you’ll want lists of all those who attend St. Margaret’s, and those who receive help from the charity on a regular basis, especially the men. Anything else?”

  “Get your hands on any correspondence you can between O’Connell and Beaumont,” Dominic said. “That could be decisive in proving his innocence.”

  “That’ll be a neat trick,” Alec muttered.

  Will shrugged. “We’ve handled worse.”

  Alec cracked him a grin. “That we have.” He looked at Dominic. “Who are we reporting to, you or the duke?”

  “To the duke and to Aden St. George. Aden is taking over my position.”

  Will nodded. “So the rumors are true. Does your retirement have anything to do with your change in marital status?”

  Dominic’s grin erased ten years from his face. “It does. From now on, I’ll be spending most of my time in the country at my wife’s manor house. It’s time to pass on my small portion of England’s business to someone else.”

  Will was about to make a polite statement of congratulations when a soft knock sounded on the door.

  “Enter,” Dominic called.

  The door partially opened and a woman peeked around it. “Is the duke gone?” she asked.

  Dominic strode across the room to take her hand. “You’re safe, my love. But York specifically asked me to convey his regrets that he missed you. He quite likes you, as you know.”

  The tall, slender woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties wrinkled her nose in a comical fashion. “I find that hard to believe, but I’ll take your word for it.”

  Dominic led her into the room. “Chloe, I’d like you to meet Captain William Endicott and Captain Alasdair Gilbride. Gentlemen, this is Lady Hunter, my wife. She is also Griffin Steele’s mother, which makes her your aunt.”

  Will and Alec had been in the process of making their bows, but that little tidbit stunned them into immobility.

  Griffin Steele, the Duke of Cumberland’s son and one of the richest men in London, had owned a number of gambling establishments and at least one brothel until he recently sold them. Will had met him once when he’d pulled Alec out of one of Steele’s more notorious hells after Alec had fought with a man who’d tried to cheat him. Steele had summarily broken up the fight and cast the sharp out into the street. He’d then tendered his most humble apologies, and sardonically offered Will and Alec a family discount. Alec had been more than game, but Will had hustled him out the door as quickly as possible.

  The idea that this lovely, elegant woman could be Griffin’s mother was astounding.

  Alec recovered first. “Aunt Chloe, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said with a flourishing bow. “Although I find it hard to believe that so beautiful a lady could be mother to our scoundrel of a cousin.”

  Will elbowed him in the ribs. “Please ignore Captain Gilbride, ma’am. He’s an ignorant Highlander sorely lacking in manners.”

  Lady Hunter laughed. “Not at all. My son is a scoundrel. I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. Will you stay for tea?”

  Dominic shook his head. “That will not be possible, my love. Gentlemen, I’m sure you have much to accomplish before your trip into Hampshire.”

  Will took the hint. “Perhaps another time, ma’am, when we return to London.”

  “I should like that very much.” She cast a glance sparkling with mischief at her husband. “We should invite Griffin, too, and have a proper family reunion.”

  Dominic snorted. “I can scarcely imagine how delightful that would be. Now, be on your way, you two. My wife has been out shopping all morning and needs her rest.”

  Lady Hunter looked the picture of health to Will, but he noted her hand drifting to the gentle bump rounding out the front of her gown.

  “Dominic, don’t be a fussbudget. I’m perfectly well,” she said.

  Alec widened his eyes at Will, clearly reacting to the notion that Dominic, one of Europe’s most lethal spymasters, was a fussbudget.

  They quickly said their good-byes, collected their hats from Smithwell, and made their way to the street.

  Alec shook his head
in wonderment. “Never would have pegged Dominic for the domestic sort. And with a pregnant wife, no less.” He cast Will a sly glance. “Well, if it can happen to him, I suppose it can happen to anyone. What say you, Wolf? Ready to give up the thrilling life of a spy for domesticated bliss?”

  “Ask me again in a few weeks and I’ll let you know,” Will said.

  After we stop an assassination attempt, prevent an outbreak of riots, and save Evie from marriage to a traitor.

  Chapter Three

  Evie Whitney watched in admiration as her sister’s arrow flew straight and true, landing with a satisfying thud in the center of the target.

  “Well done,” she said to her twin. “It still amazes me how accurate you are, even though your eyesight is as bad as mine and you refuse to wear spectacles.”

  Eden flashed a satisfied smirk and handed her the bow. “That’s because you think about it too much, Evie, just like you do about everything. All I do is aim for the big red circle and fire away.”

  It was more than that, of course, and they both knew it. Eden—or Edie, to friends and family—excelled at almost every activity she took up, despite the curse of dreadful eyesight. She had learned to compensate for her poor vision with an array of little tricks. It also helped that she was naturally graceful and confident, and adept at smoothing over awkward moments that might arise, say, from failing to recognize a friend from across the room.

  Lacking her sister’s talent and grace, Evie couldn’t count the times she’d walked into potted plants or offended an acquaintance when she breezed right past them unawares. Finally, when she turned twenty, she’d stood up to her mother and insisted on acquiring a pair of spectacles. Though they placed her even more firmly in the wallflower category, at least she was no longer in danger of falling down stairs or giving the impression that she was rude.

  Evie notched her arrow in the bowstring. Taking a deep breath, she enjoyed the drift of the soft breeze across the back of her neck. It was a gorgeous September day, when summer slowly melted into fall and the sky seemed to shimmer with gold around the edges.

  She glanced across the lawn to the back of Maywood Manor, her family’s gracious old house. Lady Polk and her daughters, who’d been enjoying the late afternoon sun on the terrace, had gone indoors, no doubt in anticipation of the gong. Other guests, who had been strolling on the lawns or had joined Evie and Eden in the impromptu archery contest, had also drifted away to their rooms to change. Evie and her sister should be going up too, before their mother came out to scold them for being late.

  Not that Mamma would dream of scolding Eden. She would just smile and chuck Eden under the chin, calling her a naughty puss before delivering a stern lecture to Evie. It was the natural state of affairs in their family, and had been for as long as Evie could remember.

  “Are you going to shoot or just stand there all day like some kind of looby?” her sister said, stripping off her leather gloves. She dropped into one of the wrought-iron chairs under the canopy that sheltered the refreshments table. “Mamma will have our heads if we’re late for dinner, so you’d better make this shot your last.”

  “You mean she’ll have my head, don’t you? You could set the house on fire and she’d find some way to excuse you.”

  Her sister’s face twisted with sympathy. “It’s beastly, isn’t it?”

  Evie stretched the bowstring and took aim. “It’s not your fault, pet. It’s just the way she is.” She loosed the arrow and followed its flight.

  Eden leaned forward, squinting. “You almost hit the bull’s-eye that time.”

  “I’ve been practicing. Maybe one of these days I’ll be as good as you.”

  “Dream on, Sister dear,” Eden retorted as she came to her feet, lazily stretching her arms in front of her. “When it comes to—”

  “When it comes to what?” Evie asked absently, retrieving her bonnet that had blown under the table. Her mother would scold if she saw her bareheaded outdoors, but the day was warm and fine and simply too lovely to wear one. Plopping the hat on her head, she turned to see her twin peering toward the house.

  And felt as if the earth had just dropped away beneath her feet.

  “Someone’s coming,” Eden said, “but I can’t make out who it is, confound it.”

  Evie struggled to form the impossible words. “It’s . . . it’s Will. Endicott!”

  Her twin’s mouth dropped open. “Wolf? Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” Evie blinked several times, as if that would somehow make Will disappear. “Do you think I could ever forget what he looks like?”

  “Here, hand me your spectacles,” Eden said. Before Evie could answer, she snatched them from her nose and held them before her eyes. Then she let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. It is Wolf Endicott. But who’s that delicious-looking fellow he’s got with him?”

  Evie retrieved her spectacles. “I don’t know and I don’t care. What I do want to know is what that . . . that . . .”

  Words often failed her, but never more so than today.

  “Bounder? Poltroon?” Eden helpfully supplied.

  Evie could only give her head a despairing shake in response.

  At one time, Will Endicott had meant the world to her. She’d told him all the secrets of her soul and had adored him with the blind passion that only a young girl could feel for her first love. And she’d thought Will felt the same way, equally devoted to her and equally determined that they’d grow up and grow old together.

  What a silly little fool she’d been. And what made it worse was that she really couldn’t hold it against him. After all, they’d both been so young. Will had gone on to other things, of course, as had she—eventually. It was foolish to harbor resentment and anger, especially after so many years.

  But as she watched him stride across the wide expanse of lush, green lawn, Evie realized how unprepared she was to see him again, as if she were still that wounded girl of sixteen.

  “What in God’s name can he be doing here?” she asked.

  “I expect he’s come to see you,” her twin answered.

  “But why now? He hasn’t seen any of us in years.”

  Eden nodded grimly. “Let me handle it.” She stepped forward to close the gap before Will and his companion reached them. “Is that truly you, Wolf Endicott? Goodness, what brings you to our quiet little corner of North Hampshire?”

  While her sister greeted the new arrivals with her usual panache, Evie could only stand there, fighting the impulse to clench her fists into her skirts. She’d never been more grateful for her sister’s skillful managing of an awkward situation.

  Staring helplessly at Will as he responded to Eden’s greeting, Evie took in his tall physique and handsome features. She’d seen him a few years ago at a military review in London that her mother had insisted they attend, but he’d been several hundred feet away from where she stood, and was mounted on horseback. Now, at close quarters, she had no choice but to brace herself against the shock of his overwhelming physical presence.

  He was no longer the lanky, eighteen-year-old boy of long-cherished memories. He was very much a man, with broad shoulders showcased by his close-fitting coat and long, muscular legs sheathed in breeches and riding boots. But his face had changed perhaps even more than his body. Those extraordinary pale blue eyes of his, so like a wolf ’s and startling against his tanned complexion, had naturally remained the same. But a hardened maturity had replaced their youthful gleam. His features were lean, the cheekbones and jaw hard-cut and formidably masculine. His expressive mouth was now bracketed with grooves, and faint lines extended from the corners of his eyes. Some would call them laugh lines, but she suspected he’d garnered them from squinting in the harsh sunlight of Spain. Besides, he didn’t look like he laughed much these days, and after what he must have seen in war, she couldn’t blame him. She could only stare at him and wonder at the changes to the boy she’d once loved.

  Eden forestalled Will’s somewhat
labored greetings by throwing her arms around his neck and depositing a swift kiss on his cheek. “Oh, never mind that. It’s splendid to see you, Wolf. We were all quite worried about you and our other friends after Waterloo, but you seem perfectly fit.”

  Will gave Eden a sheepish smile, obviously startled by her enthusiastic greeting. “Er, it’s wonderful to see you too, Eden. And, yes, I’m fine.”

  Then he turned to Evie, his smile turning cautious, almost as if he expected that she too would throw herself into his arms. “Evie, it’s splendid to see you again, too,” he said rather formally. “You’re looking well.”

  That was patently untrue. Evie knew her face must be flushed an unattractive red from a combination of heat and nerves, and her unruly hair was no doubt curling damply around her face. Never had she felt more awkward and graceless, and she wanted to bash Will over the head for putting her in this position.

  “What are you doing here?” she blurted out. “Did my mother invite you?”

  It would be just like Mamma to forget to tell her something so important.

  Will snorted. “Not bloody likely. She looked like she’d swallowed a lemon when she caught sight of me in the entrance hall. Clearly, her feelings for me haven’t changed.”

  Oddly enough, his blunt speech eased her anxiety. This was the Will she knew, not the formal, smoothly handsome stranger who’d greeted her. “And I’m being just as rude as Mamma, but you caught us by surprise.”

  He nodded. “I know, but I ran into your brother at White’s. He invited us to come down with him and visit for a few days. It seemed a good opportunity to drop in on old friends and visit Aunt Rebecca.”

  “How is Mrs. Endicott?” she asked. “I hope you found her well.”

  Will hesitated for a second before responding. “Actually, she’s gone to Bath with her sister. I missed her by a few days.”

  Evie frowned. Why hadn’t he written to his aunt before coming down? The explanation for his arrival made little sense. He’d managed to ignore the Reese family for years, so why the sudden change?

  With a little laugh, Eden stepped back into the conversation. “You have yet to introduce us to your companion, Wolf.” She gave the tall, brawny man standing slightly behind Will a decidedly interested perusal.