Once Upon a Spy: A Secrets and Seduction Book

by Sheridan Jeane

  “She might disapprove of you counting her on two fingers.”

  “One then,” he said, folding the digit back down again.

  “And my barrister.”

  “Mr. Montlake,” Robert said, grinning as he held up his last finger once again.

  “And he has a lovely young wife. The Lady Cecilia.”

  “I haven’t met her. Besides, I’ve run out of fingers on that hand,” he said. “I think we’ve made an excellent start. Does that mean we’ve reached a decision? You’ll marry me and we’ll divide our time between Maidenhead and London?”

  “We barely know one another.”

  “I’ll argue with you there. We may have met only a few days ago, but in that short time we’ve come to know each other very well. We’ve been forced to push past each other’s facades. You know me better than anyone else. You’ve seen who I really am, and I believe I’ve come to know you as well. This experience has tested us. We’ve learned we can trust and depend upon one another. I can think of no stronger foundation for a marriage.”

  Rather than pleasing her, his words seemed to have had the reverse effect.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head and tightened her hold on the blanket.

  He closed his eyes. He was a complete idiot. Of course he knew what was wrong.

  “There’s one more reason. Perhaps the most important one.” He scrubbed his hand across his face. “I’ve never done this before and I think I’m blundering.”

  “Done what before?”

  “Proposed marriage. You’re the only woman I’ve ever asked, and I’m doing everything wrong.”

  Suddenly he lurched forward and fell to one knee in front of her. “Perhaps the tried and true method is the best.” He took hold of her hand and gazed up into her eyes. “Antonia Winter, you’ve freed my spirit and changed me forever. I love you and can’t imagine a life without you in it. Will you marry me?”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Marriage is the highest state of friendship. If happy, it lessens our cares by dividing them, at the same time that it doubles our pleasures by mutual participation.

  - Samuel Richardson

  Antonia couldn’t speak. Her ears seemed to buzz. He loved her. He honestly loved her.

  A slow grin spread across her face, but then it turned sly.

  “Finally, a declaration of your love. I was wondering about that.” Antonia tapped her chin. “I must admit, that was an excellent marriage proposal. On bended knee even. How could a girl possibly refuse?” When he gazed at her like this, his ice-blue eyes made her heart melt.

  “I hope you don’t intend to try,” he said. The way he cocked one eyebrow made her heart skip a beat.

  She simply grinned at him. “I’m savoring the moment. Stretching out the suspense. It’s one of those things an actress learns to do.”

  “Is this the sort of treatment I should expect from you over the next fifty or so years? Or do you plan to use up all of those fifty years making me wait for an answer? I don’t know if I’ll be able to endure the suspense.” He placed his hand on her knee, and she jumped at his touch as the heat of his palm seared through the thin fabric of her trousers.

  He shot her a crafty grin.

  Oh, but he’d pay for that. She turned up her nose in a show of indifference. “I suppose you think I should put you out of your misery and give you a definitive answer.” She glanced down at her left hand and examined a fingernail.

  “A wedding band would look attractive there, don’t you think?” He began rubbing small circles on the inner side of her knee with his thumb.

  “I suppose so.” Her voice squeaked ever so slightly. She cleared her throat. “What kind?”

  “A copper-hued topaz to match your eyes,” he said without hesitating. His thumb stopped moving. “In a brilliant cut and encircled with diamonds. That was the first thing I noticed about you. Your eyes.” Just when she thought he’d given up on teasing her, his thumb resumed its steady movement, and a pleasant heat began to build within her.

  “You like my eyes?” She batted them at him playfully and he leaned closer.

  “Most certainly. I love staring into them.”

  He skated his hand around to the outside of her leg and slid his fingers into the crevasse behind her knee. Even through her trousers, it was an undeniably sensitive spot, and she jumped at his touch, letting out a faint gasp. Lord, but that man could be insistent. “I noticed you staring at me when we first came into the study,” she said, her voice breathless, “but it wasn't my eyes you seemed fascinated with.”

  “No?” His pale-blue eyes grew darker with hunger.

  “No. It was an entirely different portion of my anatomy. Quite a bit lower.”

  “Hmm.” He pushed her knees apart and moved forward. He stared at her mouth as he skimmed his hand farther up the outside of her thigh. “That might be true,” he said, squeezing her hip as he moved his lips closer to hers, “but then again, it might not. Since I'm not your fiancé, it would be improper for me to comment on anything other than your eyes.” He leaned in, and she reflexively moved forward to meet him, but he suddenly pulled back. “Quite improper.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “That wasn’t nice.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” He skimmed his hand along her hip and paused where her men’s shirt was tucked into her waistband. He gave it a sharp tug, pulling it free.

  Her heart thudded in her chest. The last of her resistance crumbled. “Perhaps— perhaps you’ve earned an answer.” She licked her lips. “You're distracting me. What was the question again?”

  “Will…”

  Tug.

  “You…”

  Tug.

  “Marry…”

  Tug.

  “Me?”

  He tugged the last bit of her shirt free of her trousers and slid his hand beneath it, just grazing her bare skin.

  “I—”

  His hand slid up toward her breast, but when she stopped speaking, he stopped moving.

  “You— what? At this moment, I must insist on an answer.”

  “I— I will.”

  “Marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  “In three weeks?”

  “Yes. Anything. Tomorrow if you like.”

  He chuckled. “At last. I thought you’d make me wait for at least another week before you’d give me your answer. You might have some tricks for building suspense, but it appears you’re susceptible to my tricks as well.”

  What on earth was he going on about? Didn’t he know she needed to be kissed?

  He slid his arm around her waist as he moved onto the sofa next to her and pulled her close. A moment later their lips were together and her arms flew around him, holding him tight as she melted into his body.

  §

  She must have dozed off, because she suddenly awoke. Robert had pulled the soft blanket over them both, and he held her nestled against his chest.

  Either he'd already been awake or her movement had woken him as well, because he planted a kiss on top of her head.

  “I do too,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him fiercely.

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” His chest hair beneath her cheek was smooth and fine. She pulled back to examine it more closely. The dark hair tapered down below the blanket, and she stroked it.

  “What is it that you do?”

  She turned her head to face him. “I love you. I neglected to mention that earlier.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and then a smile slowly spread across his face. It grew wider and wider until it seemed filled with so much joy she thought it might strike her blind.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  All’s well that ends well.

  - William Shakespeare

  April, 1854

  Robert swept his wife into his arms and onto Lord Huntley’s dance floor where they joined the other dancers in a waltz.

  “Everyone’s staring at us,” Antoni
a whispered.

  “They’re all hoping to catch a glimpse of the notorious Countess of Wentworth,” he murmured, recognizing her sudden flare of fear and hoping to tease her out of it. “I suspect that’s why the Huntleys’ ball is so well attended tonight. Some of our onlookers will be dining out on this story for years.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” she said testily. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

  “Let them look. Think of the excitement you’ll bring to their dreary, closed-off lives.”

  “You aren’t helping matters any. How will I manage to win them over?”

  “Those aren’t the ones you’ll win over,” he said in a more serious tone. “They’re the ones who will never accept you, so why bother? Why worry about pleasing them?” His gaze locked with hers as he tried to convey his love in a look. He wanted to lend her his confidence. He wanted her to shine brightly and blind the onlookers.

  She met his gaze, and he felt the shift in her as his confidence imbued her with her own.

  “You need to smile,” he added. “If they’re going to watch us anyway, we might as well irritate them. Let them know we don’t care a whit about them.”

  She grinned at him. “Are you saying you plan to flout the staid members of society?”

  “Most certainly. Since they’re watching us so closely, I plan to do something quite scandalous.”

  He felt her tense in his arms. “Do tell me you’re teasing,” she said, her tone pleading. “When you get that glint in your eye, I’m never quite certain.”

  He gave her a devilish grin. “Here it comes.” He loosened the arm around her waist, lifted his other arm, and pushed her into a twirl on the dance floor. It was a move they’d performed during their wedding trip to Italy, but never before in London.

  He pulled her back into his arms and continued twirling her around the room in the waltz, ignoring her stern look.

  “Robert. I’m appalled,” she said, the obvious laughter in her voice belying her severe expression. “You might have gotten away with spinning me around on the ballroom floor while we were in Italy, but the British frown on such extravagant behavior.”

  “You loved it. I can tell. In a moment, you’ll burst out laughing.”

  She finally grinned at him, her deeply felt delight shining in her eyes. A moment later, they twirled past a furious-looking matron who glowered at them in disapproval.

  Antonia noticed the woman as well, and her laughter fled. “You’re a bad influence. When did you decide to start flouting every convention known to man?”

  Robert pulled her closer and planted a quick kiss on her cheek.

  Antonia flushed with pleasure. “Have you always been this way? I had no idea you were such an exhibitionist.”

  He grinned back at her. “You bring out the devil in me.”

  “Everything worked out well for your brother.” She glanced around the room. “I’m hesitant to mention anything about him in a public venue. Suffice it to say, he seems happy with the changes in his life.”

  “At least he finally isn’t asking for my help any longer. I don’t know if it’s because I made such a mess of things with the book, or if he’s simply happier with his new—” he glanced around as well— “associate. Either way, it’s a relief not to be at his beck and call.”

  As the waltz ended, Robert escorted Antonia to Lady Huntley’s side.

  Catherine smiled broadly at them both. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you since your wedding,” she said, taking Antonia’s hands in hers. “You’re both looking marvelous. Marriage must agree with you.”

  “Most certainly,” Robert said. “I’m finding domestic life to be quite enjoyable.”

  Catherine smoothed her hand over her belly. “I feel the same way. I never would have believed I would have taken to it so readily. Perhaps it’s because I found my perfect match.”

  Robert glanced at Antonia. Their gazes locked for a moment, and a contented warmth enveloped him. “That must be it.”

  “Did you enjoy Italy?” Catherine asked.

  “It was marvelous.” Antonia focused her attention on Catherine even as she shifted closer to Robert. “We’re planning to return next summer and take my sisters. They’ll adore visiting the museums and the Roman ruins.”

  Robert found Antonia’s hand and entwined her fingers in his. He found himself needing to touch her constantly. He hated having her far from his side. Fortunately, she seemed to have developed the same sort of attachment. They were quickly becoming one of those tedious couples who were quite obviously in love.

  “Is there any news concerning your uncle?” Catherine asked.

  “Squire Winter still refuses to acknowledge us,” Antonia said, “but that’s for the best. He’s currently in jail awaiting trial.”

  Catherine tutted. “Oh, my. I hadn’t realized things had progressed so far. I’m glad to know the wheels of justice can move quickly.”

  “He did admit in court he had possession of the church register,” Antonia said. “With Father Sergey positively identifying him, he’s almost certain to be convicted of murder.”

  “How are your sisters adjusting to all of the changes?”

  “With astonishing aplomb.” Antonia’s smile was bright and open. “I wasn’t certain if their friends in Maidenhead would accept them back into their circle, but it seems my fears were unfounded. They’ve been welcomed like soldiers returning from the war. The other girls seem quite impressed by their year-long adventure in London. Even their parents are being surprisingly welcoming.”

  “That must be a relief.”

  Robert noticed a woman approaching Catherine with a smile of greeting on her face, but when she met Robert’s eye, she came to a stumbling halt. She glanced at Antonia, and with a flush of embarrassment, she turned on her heel and hurried away.

  Antonia stiffened. Robert rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, hoping to soothe her.

  With a look of resignation, Catherine watched the other woman flee. “It will take some time for people to adjust,” she said, giving Antonia a sympathetic look. “Don’t let it bother you too much. Another scandal will come along soon enough to divert them. There’s always a scandal brewing.”

  “But I was on stage. That’s hard for people to forget.”

  “And some never will.” Catherine lifted an open palm as though tossing those people aside like chaff. “But others— well, times are changing. You’ll be surprised.” She glanced after the departing woman. “In a year, you won’t be facing that sort of reaction.”

  Antonia nodded slowly. “Seeing her reaction convinces me we’ve made the right decision to keep my sisters in Maidenhead for now. I’d hate for them to come face-to-face with that sort of scorn. It’s my hope that if Evalina chooses to enter London society in two years, they’ll accept her.”

  A few moments later, Robert and Antonia left Catherine’s side, and another guest quickly took their place.

  Robert gestured toward one of the open doors letting in a late-spring breeze scented with lilacs and freshly turned earth. “Would you care for a walk under the stars?”

  “Nothing would please me more,” Antonia said, wrapping her arm around his.

  As they stepped through the doorway, Robert spied a row of torches lighting the entrance to the garden, and he could see more in the distance. The sight was an enticing one, and it made him think of exploring dark garden alcoves with Antonia.

  Before he could suggest it, Monsieur LeCompte strolled over to join them. He greeted them both and then turned his attention to Antonia.

  “Ça va?” he asked— How are you?

  “Bien,” she replied— I’m well.

  LeCompte gave her an evaluating gaze. “The last time I saw you, you were dressed as a man. May I say, I much prefer your current attire. Your silver gown is stunning.”

  “Thank you. Robert has a particular fondness for it.”

  “Thank you for your letter informing me of the book’s
eventual disposition,” LeCompte told Antonia. “I’m relieved it was of use to you. I also admit I’m pleased England has finally joined France in our war against Russia.”

  “Was that your preferred outcome?” Robert asked, his curiosity piqued.

  “It was among my optimal ones, yes. Having our adversary withdraw from Crimea would have been a perfect outcome, but it was a highly unlikely one.”

  Robert nodded. “I came to the same conclusion. I doubt anyone would have believed the book’s secrets. They were too incendiary.”

  Antonia glanced down the garden path, and LeCompte’s face softened as he took in her wistful gaze. He shuffled his feet, turning toward the doorway leading back inside. “I do hope you’ll excuse me. I have a great deal of gossip to uncover, and since you’ve been traveling, I doubt you have any to offer me. Newlyweds tend to be singularly unaware of anything beyond themselves.”

  Antonia grinned and Robert nodded at him.

  LeCompte shook his head at them. “Lord, what fools these mortals be,” he said as he turned away.

  Antonia chuckled as she turned toward the pathway and tugged on Robert’s arm. “I didn’t know LeCompte could quote Shakespeare.” Her eyes filled with a flirtatiousness he’d learned meant wonderful things were in store for him. “Come,” she said. “The night is calling.”

  “Do you plan to take advantage of me, Lady Wentworth?” he asked, following her lead. Inside the ballroom, Robert heard a clock begin to chime the hour. One, two, three—

  “At every possible opportunity.” She held him by the hand as she walked backward, down the torch-lit path. “I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”

  Four, five, six—

  “Is this what’s in store for me?” Robert asked, following her eagerly. “To have you woo me with lines from Shakespeare?”

  Seven, eight, nine—

  “Does it please you?” she asked, pulling harder and moving faster.