by Shana Galen
***
“Are you warm enough, Miss Qwillen?” Pierce Moneypence asked as he and the weaponry designer made their way on foot to M’s town house. She had her cloak pulled tightly about her slender frame, and the chill breeze whipping it about her ankles had turned her cheeks a lovely shade of pink.
Moneypence had decided it was perfectly acceptable for him to note the pleasing color of her cheeks at the moment. Once they reached the town house, he would concentrate on the mission. This was his first mission in the field, and he was actually rather excited. That excitement likely accounted for why he did not feel the cold. He was to obtain top secret documents from M’s own residence, from Bonde’s bedchamber. The thought actually made him lightheaded. Bonde’s bedchamber! The place where she slept, breakfasted, undressed…
“I’m quite comfortable,” Q said, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m from north of York and used to the cold.”
That explained her seeming immunity to the elements then. Moneypence was glad. One quality that always appealed to him was hardiness. He wished he had more of it himself.
“There it is,” Q said, pointing to a white limestone town house. It was rather unremarkable in appearance, but Moneypence supposed that was the idea. The leader of the Barbican hardly wanted a sign proclaiming his residence.
“Miss Bonde mentioned a tree we might climb to access her room. In which case, we should probably approach from the rear.”
Q looked at him. “Are you skilled at tree climbing, Mr. Moneypence?”
Pierce considered. He’d climbed one or two as a boy, usually to escape larger boys intent on beating him to a bloody pulp. “I have some experience,” he admitted.
“Good.” By tacit agreement, they circled around the house, entering the garden through a gate in the alley where the mews were housed. They were both keenly aware the house was probably being watched, but the ease with which they gained entry to the premises did not surprise them. That did not mean the house itself was unguarded.
Keeping low to take advantage of the shrubbery, Moneypence and Q made their way to the tree closest to the house. They hid behind the tree trunk for a few moments, studying the house and the area. “I do not think we have been spotted,” Q said.
“No one and nothing has moved,” he agreed. His heart was beating rapidly, his blood racing through his veins. No wonder the operatives enjoyed fieldwork. It was rather exciting.
“Shall I climb up first?” she asked.
“I—” He began to protest, but she had already stood and was reaching for the lowest branch, which hung just out of her reach.
“Would you give me a boost, Mr. Moneypence?”
“Of course.” He bent and made a cup of his hands. She placed her boot in it and stepped up. Her thigh pressed against his shoulder, sending warmth and the scent of gunpowder and smoke into his nostrils. It was a surprisingly pleasant scent, rather comforting. She reached for the branch, wrapped her legs about the trunk of the tree, and began to pull herself up. Without meaning to, Pierce caught a glimpse of the white of her calf. He felt his breath catch slightly. Despite Q’s slight stature, her leg had appeared rather shapely to his eye.
He forced his gaze down. He was a man of principle and strong moral fiber. He did not look up ladies’ skirts. That vow made, he began to climb, keeping his gaze on his hands or the tree until he was beside Q on the limb across from one of the house’s windows.
“This is Bonde’s room,” Q whispered. “I’ve been inside before and remember the location within the building.”
“Perhaps I should go in first. She might have laid booby traps.”
“She didn’t use any I didn’t teach her to lay,” Q said with something that sounded like pride in her voice. Logically, she should be the one to go first, then, but he was feeling a bit dizzy from the height of the tree limb on which they balanced. Certainly, it was strong enough for both of them, but did the breeze have to blow so bloody often? He felt as though he were swaying as much as a sailor on a ship.
“What should I watch for?” he asked, scooting forward.
“Anything that would set off an alarm.”
“Right.” An alarm did not worry him. An alarm would not kill or maim. He reached for the window and shoved the pane up. It was locked. Keeping one hand on the tree trunk for balance, he wrapped the other in a handkerchief and used it to break the thick glass. He didn’t cut his hand, but it rather ached by the time he’d smashed through. He reached inside, turned the latch, and pushed the window up. Quickly, he climbed inside, turning to give Q a cheeky smile. With a scream, she jumped on top of him, smashing to the floor just as the whoosh of a blade cut the air where he had been a moment before.
***
Dominic knocked on his mother’s door and waited for her to admit him entrance. At the sound of her voice, he strolled inside and found her seated in front of her hearth in an antique chair upholstered in yellow-and-blue chintz. She held out her hand. “You are safe. Oh, Dominic.” With a sob, she pulled him into an embrace. Dominic was used to her theatrics, but these were more dramatic than usual.
“Mother.” He gently extricated himself and sat across from her, glad for the warmth of the fire. “I told you I was coming to London. I wrote to Edgeberry, told him to leave for Kenham Hall. London is dangerous at the moment. You are much safer in the country.”
She sighed as though she had had this argument many times before. “Yes, I mentioned all of this, and the dead man at Kenham Hall to the marquess, but he says he has an important vote in Parliament tonight and will not quit Town until it is over.”
“So you came home?”
She gave him a sheepish look. “I was lonely. Lady Melbourne is pleasant enough, but I missed my husband. Besides”—she pointed an accusatory finger at him—“how was I supposed to sleep easy knowing a man had been killed just yards from my bed?”
“How will you sleep easy knowing the man who sent him is here in London and may do you more harm?”
She shook her head and leaned forward. In the light from the hearth, he could see her face looked older than usual. There were more lines than he remembered, and she had a bit of gray in her hair at the roots. “Why would anyone want to harm me? I’ve done nothing. Edgeberry has done nothing.”
“It’s not you they are after. It’s Melbourne and Miss Bonde.”
“Miss Bonde?” Lady Edgeberry sat back with surprise. “Why would anyone want to harm that sweet girl?”
“Because she followed in her uncle’s footsteps.”
He had to give his mother credit. She did not even blink. “What footsteps?”
“Mother, please. Do not pretend you have no idea what Melbourne does.”
“Something for the Foreign Office. I assumed he was some sort of clerk. Have they taken to employing women now?”
She was an amazing actress, but he knew her too well. Her gestures were a bit too heavy-handed. “She’s a spy, Mother. Just like her uncle. And right now…well, the less you know, the better. But I am ordering Danbury to put more men around the house. And I’ll find Edgeberry at his club and make him leave the city until this is over.”
“And will you be coming with us?” she asked.
“No.” He stood and raked a hand through hair, still damp from the bath. Dominic had never even considered leaving. “I can’t.”
“You love her,” his mother said.
Dominic didn’t answer. Did he love her? Was he even capable of love? “I don’t know. I do not need to love her to marry her. That’s what you wanted, is it not?”
“I wanted you to fall in love,” she said. “But I will take marriage as a beginning.”
“You did not give either of us much choice.”
She studied her nails intently. “Oh?”
“Jane says you threatened to reveal your affair with Melbourne if she did not agree to marry
me.”
“Affair with Melbourne? I have no idea what you are talking about!”
“And that is the first truth you’ve told me all night. Tell me, Mother, why would Melbourne lie to his niece? Why would he want her to believe you were blackmailing him with a secret relationship, when you and I know the truth?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do we?”
“Melbourne and you did not have an affair, but you do have a secret together. You killed a man, and he hid the evidence.”
She stood. “I do not know what you are talking about.” She whirled so her back was to him. “That girl has filled your head with foolish ideas. You had better go now if you hope to catch Edgeberry before he starts for Westminster.”
“There are still hours before the session begins. What are you afraid to talk about, Mother?” He turned her around. “Did you think I didn’t remember?”
There were tears glimmering in her eyes, unshed tears, and for that he was thankful. “I hoped…” She swallowed. “I hoped you had forgotten some of it. All of it.”
“I haven’t forgotten. I never will.”
“Oh, Dominic.” She threw herself into his arms, and he allowed her to weep for a moment before gently setting her aside. “I’m so sorry, my darling boy. So sorry. It’s all my fault. You must believe me when I say I didn’t know what…that man was doing to you. He threatened to come back, to keep hurting you. I did not mean to kill him. I was so angry.”
“You were drunk,” he said, and saw her flinch.
“I was. I was a horrible mother. I would have gone to prison if the truth had been known. Melbourne saved me. He saved us.”
“And you repay him by blackmailing him?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “He needed to marry off the girl anyway. I was merely helping him. I do not know why he lied to Miss Bonde. He must have had his reasons. I wanted only the best for you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. That’s why I married Edgeberry, why I want you to marry Jane Bonde. I want you to have what I could not give you all those years before.”
“Mother.” Dominic moved close to her. “All I ever wanted was you.”
The tears that had filled her eyes spilled down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” She fell to her knees, burying her face in her hands. “Can you ever forgive me?”
He bent and pressed his lips to her hair. “Yes. I do forgive you.” And then he turned and walked from the room, leaving her to sob and mourn the past. For his part, he was done with it. It might take years to remove the talons of the memories from his mind and his heart, but he would no longer dwell on what was and what had been. He had a new life ahead of him, and tonight he would turn toward it.
The meeting with his mother had also presented some interesting questions. Why had Melbourne lied to his niece? Why not tell her the truth? Surely adultery was as great a sin as covering up a murder. As the leader of the Barbican group, Melbourne had undoubtedly hidden many murders. Had Melbourne lost faith in his niece? He’d sent her away to the country in what appeared to Dominic to be the agency’s greatest hour of need. And now he had restricted her to headquarters. True, she was injured, but even Dominic had to admit the injury did not seem to hamper her much. It was more than a scratch—as she claimed—but it warranted only two stitches, and therefore, not much more.
And so it stood to reason, what else was Melbourne lying about?
Danbury was waiting for Dominic in the vestibule with his greatcoat in hand. Dominic donned it and said, “I am going to White’s. If I miss Edgeberry or my brothers, tell them I’ve asked that they stay here tonight. In addition, gather every available footman, groom, and valet. Set up a rotation of guards. I want the house secure for the night.”
Danbury’s face paled. “Is there cause for concern, sir?”
“Yes. I hope it is nothing we need worry about, but I want to take every precaution.”
“Yes, sir. I will see to it.”
Dominic felt a sense of relief when he left the house. For the moment, his mother was as safe as could be expected, and soon he would see his brothers and the marquess safely inside the town house as well. Perhaps that feeling of relief was the reason he did not see the man coming for him. By the time he sensed something was amiss, the hood had been pulled over his face, something crashed over his head, and all went black.
***
Pierce Moneypence raised his head gingerly. His head had thudded on the floor when Q tackled him, and his ears still rang. “What the devil—” he began.
“Booby trap,” Q said, raising her own head. Her face was alarmingly close to his own. Come to think of it, her body was pressed to his, and she was still lying on top of him. He followed her gaze and inhaled sharply when he saw the blade gleaming beside the window. It was attached to a string and had swung down, in the manner of a guillotine, when he’d climbed through the window.
“You must have tripped it when you went through,” Q said.
“Yes.” He glanced at her, and their gazes met for a long moment. Pierce became aware that Miss Qwillen’s body was rather warm and soft. Her breasts were pushed against his chest, and the feel of them was a rather pleasant thing. His gaze dipped to her lips, and he wondered how it would feel to kiss her.
And then, quite suddenly, she scrambled to her feet. “I apologize for my conduct,” she said primly. “It appears Bonde forgot to warn us there might be death traps.” She brushed at her skirts, diligently avoiding looking at him. Pierce rose to his feet, his heart thumping, but with quite a different sort of excitement now.
“We must be careful,” Miss Qwillen said.
“Right.” Back to the mission then. He could not forget the reason they were here, and it was not to think about kissing. Though he hadn’t quite forgotten how lovely a shade of pink her lips were.
They found the key Bonde had told them about and unlocked her desk drawer. There was another booby trap there, but it consisted solely of ink, which spattered Moneypence’s face and chest. Q offered her handkerchief, and he rubbed it off as best he could, but from the way her mouth quirked each time she looked at him, he had the feeling he had not quite succeeded.
He would not have minded the ink so much if they had found anything of use in the drawer. They did find a document pertaining to the Maîtriser group, but it was little more than a summary of the action Wolf and Saint had taken against Foncé last year. He perused it quickly, and then stood rooted firmly in place. Q was reading it over his shoulder. Her hair had come loose at some point, and a lock of it rested on the sleeve of his coat. He had the urge to touch it, to see how it felt between his fingers.
Slowly, he turned and met her gaze. “Sorry!” she said quickly and stepped away. Was it his imagination, or had her cheeks turned bright pink?
“Should we continue to search?” he asked.
“I can’t think where else Bonde might keep documents,” Q said. “Or was that an excuse to paw through her chemises?”
Now he blushed. “The thought did not occur to me. I meant we might search Melbourne’s library.”
She cast her eyes down. “Oh.”
“Jane Bonde is not the only thing I ever think of, you know,” he said curtly.
“Ha.” Now she looked up, her hazel eyes glittering. “You could have fooled me. You’ve been mooning over her for as long as I’ve known you.”
“I’m not mooning over her now.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Really? Only because Dominic Griffyn will flatten your nose if you look at her too long.”
“I’m not afraid of him. And he has nothing to do with it.”
“Then why aren’t you pining for her?”
Daft woman. Couldn’t she see? “Because I’m thinking about kissing you!” Pierce could not have said what came over him, but he didn’t question it. He reached out, clamped his hands on her upper arms, and dragged her to him. Befor
e she could slap him, he planted a swift kiss on her lips and released her. “There. See?”
She stared at him, her eyes wide, her mouth agape. “I-I—”
He felt a strange sort of pleasure knowing he’d flustered her with the kiss. “We don’t have time to stand about all day. Follow me to the library.”
Either they were extremely fortunate, or better spies than they’d been given credit for, because they managed to find the library without alerting any of the servants. In fact, Moneypence wondered if Melbourne had dismissed them for the day. The house was eerily quiet. Once in the library, he and Q rummaged through the desk. She seemed particularly intent upon her work, and he supposed that was because if she looked at the desk and the bookshelves, she did not have to look at him.
Had she disliked the kiss that much? She hadn’t slapped him, which he thought was a positive development. But he’d never kissed a woman before. Perhaps he had not done it correctly. Perhaps he should ask if they might try it again. He looked at her, on the other side of Melbourne’s leather desk chair, and found her looking at him. With a scowl, she went back to her work. So right now might not be the best time to suggest another kiss.
All of the drawers in Melbourne’s desk were locked, but Moneypence had the keys to his desk at the Barbican, and the keys also fit this desk. Pierce had known this, because once, M lost his keys and had to borrow Moneypence’s spare set until he located those he’d misplaced. However, the lock for one drawer at the bottom of the desk did not match any of the keys he possessed. He’d tried them all twice, when Q approached. “Would you like me to try?”
“I think I can bloody well open a desk drawer.” He sat back. “None of the keys fit.”
“Hmm.” She studied the drawer, her head cocked to one side. On her face was an expression he knew well.
“I do not like that look,” he said.
“Which one?” She didn’t glance away from the desk.
“The one that says you will shortly use explosives.”
She grinned at him, and fiend seize it if she did not look beautiful when she smiled. He almost kissed her again. “Stand back,” she said and drew a letter opener from her reticule.