by Sue London
No, he had never been foolish, and that lodged a thorn in her heart. She loved him. Intensely, irrationally. And she had just inferred that he had never loved her at all. She was the one who had been foolish. Who had compromised her mission. Had crossed Vienna to check on him. Had married him impulsively in a foreign church. She had been resoundingly stupid over him, and knew that no matter what she might tell herself in the moment right now, she would be again. Because there were other things he had shown her, too. He had protected the secret of their marriage even though it had caused him physical pain. He openly adored her biting sarcasm. And when he touched her she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Yes, Casimir was good at persuasion. He would handily convince her father that he was just the man to take over her care. That would be how her father thought of it. Taking over the care of his eldest daughter, a girl that had caused him nothing but trouble for years. Her father had never approved of her biting tongue and wayward behavior. It had only been Sabre and Jack’s superior social position that had ensured she was able to continue as a Haberdasher. That, and keeping the truth of most of their activities from her parents. Her father would undoubtedly see Casimir as something of a godsend.
The question for her heart was, had he been sent by God or the devil?
*
“But you’ve never been to Derbyshire.”
Casimir kissed the tip of his wife’s nose. No one had ever worried about him quite as much as she did. “By definition, the first time you go somewhere you’ve never been there before. I’ve traveled quite a bit, ukochany. I’m sure the English countryside will not be a challenge. The earl has even insisted that I use one of his carriages and coachmen. I couldn’t get lost if I tried.” She was still frowning and he knew she was just readying her next argument. He decided to head it off before she started. “If you wish to go with me, of course you can. I just thought we had agreed you didn’t want to present our marriage as a fait accompli to your family.”
“No, but perhaps I could stay at an inn nearby-”
“And how would that be received if it were found out?”
She looked displeased but finally allowed, “Not well.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Just admit that you’ll miss me.”
That haunted expression he worried about came back, some blend of frustration and melancholy that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. As a man who lived by his wits and ability to read the people around him, the irony that he couldn’t always read his wife didn’t escape him. She finally spoke in a voice so soft he leaned closer to hear her. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too, ukochany.”
She pulled back. “Why don’t you call me Gini anymore?”
Casimir paused. “Your friends all call you George.”
“Yes, my friends all call me George, but you call me Gini. Or you did.”
“I assumed it was part of your false identity. Like Applegate.”
She grimaced at the name of her former ‘husband’. “Don’t say that name.” She became earnest, more earnest than he had ever seen her. “But not exactly. When I was little I didn’t like the nickname Gina. I think that’s why Robert had me use it in Vienna. He has a downright cruel sense of humor.”
“If you don’t like it, then of course I won’t call you that.”
She wrapped her hands in his lapels. “I didn’t like the nickname Gina. Now it’s what you call me. Do you see?”
“Not really.”
“If any of the others called me that I would probably still sit on them until they promised to stop. But you. When you call me Gina, or especially Gini, it makes me feel…”
When she trailed off Casimir prompted her. “It makes you feel?”
“Loved.”
She sounded hopeful and sad and even a tiny bit defiant all at once. Vulnerable. It tore at his heart. He pulled her close and whispered. “I love you, Gini. I’ll call you anything you want.”
Wrapping her arms around his waist she leaned her head on his shoulder. “What does ukochany mean?”
“Beloved.”
“I like that, too.”
*
George was beginning to hate herself, just a little bit. All of her life she had been obsessed with uncovering the truth, but with Casimir all she wanted was the fantasy. She wanted to believe he really loved her. She wanted to believe she was special, not just another female he had charmed into doing what he wanted. Not that she could see how following her back to England could be part of some grand nefarious plot, but having grown up with Sabre and Robert she knew that there were far subtler minds than her own. Perhaps she should just tell Sabre everything she knew about Casimir and see what her friend would come up with. Then again, that would interrupt the fantasy. And right now, with his fingers tracing slow, sinuous patterns over her back the fantasy seemed terribly, terribly good.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Casimir was in a carriage again, without Gini this time. He missed her, but if he were a father he would be infuriated to be presented with a son-in-law without being given any opportunity to review the man in question. So, a farce. He would go to Derbyshire and ask for her hand. He would ingratiate himself to Gini’s family in whatever way he had to, because there was no question that the final outcome must be their marriage. There were few things he wanted that he was confident he could achieve, but this was one of them.
*
On the rare occasion that George had entered the Home Office before, it had been with a certain guilty thrill. She had known that an exciting, adventurous future was waiting for her. That she was special. That the combination of her training and clever mind would be of service to the Crown. Now she only felt dread. She didn’t want to talk to Robert. He hadn’t summoned her, but there was something she needed to tell him and putting it off wouldn’t make it any easier. Of course, she couldn’t be certain that he would be at his office. Or that he would be free. After she announced herself to the front office clerk she began hoping that he was out. Busy. Couldn’t possibly see her. She waited for almost twenty minutes and was fairly certain that they would finally tell her that he was otherwise occupied. Then his personal clerk came to usher her to the office. It felt, she thought, suspiciously like walking to the gallows.
When she entered his office he was writing and held up a finger to keep her from talking. Her lips twisted into an irrepressible wry smile. As though she were dense enough to interrupt Robert when he was writing. Setting his pen down, his gaze rose to meet hers. His expression was guarded at best. She flopped into her chair the way she once did as a child. The way that always made Sabre scold her. Robert merely raised a brow.
“You needed to see me, Georgiana?”
Formality. Perhaps not the best sign. She picked at her fingernail. “I wouldn’t say that I needed to see you. More that it is appropriate.”
Silence. She was tempted to have a staring contest with him to see which of them would speak first. But as it was nearly a foregone conclusion that he would win, she spent a few moments studying him instead. Just to prove that she couldn’t be pressured by his little tricks. She was still somewhat startled by how the intervening months had aged him. By how tired he seemed. How weighed down. And right now it was possible that he seemed, well, hesitant. Robert never seemed hesitant.
She finally spoke again. “I wanted to inform you of my resignation. Due to the nature of our business, I didn’t think that a letter would be the correct method.”
The impression of hesitancy was shed. “I invested quite a bit in your training, Georgiana.”
Her wry smile came back. “And I married my first informant.”
He waved a hand. “This isn’t a position one resigns from. If asked, you will serve.”
She snorted. “Please, Robert. Would you trust me with another assignment? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“The fact is that you are an agent of the Crown, and so you shall remain. And speaking of trust-�
� he leaned down to pull something from a drawer in his desk. A file that he set in front of himself, laying a hand atop it. “Do you trust your husband?”
George felt her heart begin to race. “I’m not here to discuss my husband.”
“How well do you know him?”
She stared at the file under his hand. Not a particularly thick file. Most likely just a few sheets of paper. “He’s my husband,” she said simply.
Robert narrowed his eyes at her. “Clever George. Cagey George.” He tapped a finger on top of the file. “And terribly, terribly curious George. Certainly she knows everything that I could tell her about her husband? About the warrant for his arrest? About the bloody deaths both his father and grandfather suffered?”
George endeavored to keep her expression neutral but was sure that she had paled considerably. “Why are you having my husband investigated?”
He drummed his fingers over the file. “I didn’t know he was your husband when I requested the information. You can imagine my surprise at receiving such a fascinating report. And then I had to ask myself, would George have married a man with such a complicated past? Is it possible she didn’t know? Looking at you now I can see that you didn’t know. That does concern me, George. You were trained to elicit information. Apparently your training wasn’t as thorough as one would hope.”
She frowned down at her clasped hands. In her mind she repeated a phrase that had served her well. Don’t feel. Don’t feel. Don’t feel.
Robert apparently hadn’t needed a response, as he continued speaking after a moment. “That is your next assignment, George.”
She looked up sharply. He wanted her to report back to him about her own husband?
His voice interrupted her thoughts. “Find out what I have in this file before I have to tell you. You should know. But you should find out from your husband, not from me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Once shown into the front parlor, Casimir almost immediately regretted not bringing Gini. The house had an air of despondency that he hadn’t expected. From the references she had made to her family he had expected them to be eccentric but lively. Certainly her wicked humor and teasing ways hadn’t sprung fully formed from Zeus’s forehead. It had to be based in the nature of her family. But the tone from the staff thus far had been nearly funereal. There was an illness in this house. The only question that remained was who had taken ill? And would Gini be too late to say goodbye?
The home was well appointed. Not to the extreme of luxury seen at the Earl of Harrington’s townhouse, but a settled sense of wealth pervaded the atmosphere. More so, actually, than Casimir had expected. He had become rather adept at determining not only the current level of wealth a person had, but the environment in which they had been raised. Everything left clues in the personality. He had studied those clues with determination and he was now able to subtly indicate a higher or lower wealth or status as fit his environment. It was how he had survived University. His Gini had not signaled such a casual wealth as he saw here. Interesting.
He heard steps in the hall and turned towards the door with an expression midway between welcoming and sympathetic. The man who entered was a bit taller than himself, with the solid
physique some men developed in middle age. He looked sturdy. Stable. Casimir had staked quite a few things in his life on first impressions, and Mr. Lockhart was both steady and likeable. Not much at all in mien like his clever, prickly daughter. But he shared her fair coloring and dark eyes, even if her features were a bit sharper in definition.
“Good afternoon, Mr. - “
The typical hesitancy the English had in pronouncing his name. “Rokiczana.” Casimir supplied helpfully. “Good afternoon, Mr. Lockhart. I hope that I have not come at an inopportune time?”
“Not at all. My apologies if the staff did not make you feel welcome.”
“Very welcome indeed. Perhaps I should start by giving you this letter of introduction from your daughter.”
“Georgiana?”
The man’s tone, a blend of surprise and anxiety, made Casimir regret again not having brought Gini. It wouldn’t have been appropriate, considering the ruse, for the two of them to have traveled alone together. But right this moment Casimir wished he could produce her with a flourish, rather than the short letter she had written to smooth the introductions between himself and her father. Mr. Lockhart plucked the letter from Casimir’s hand and immediately set to reading it. Once finished, his gaze rose to study Casimir a bit more carefully.
“How did you meet my daughter?”
“At a dance.” Technically true. They had, of course, anticipated that question.
“Pardon my saying, but you don’t sound Scottish.”
“Indeed I am not. My homeland is Silesia, in Prussia.”
Mr. Lockhart looked down at the letter in his hand. “She hopes that I will look upon your proposal favorably.”
“Did she rush the fences for me, then? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I would like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Lockhart looked up from the letter again. “I will never claim to understand my daughter, but I have met her. If she wished to marry she would do so. Especially while in a country such as Scotland, where a marriage can be forged in moments over a smithy’s anvil. I regret to inform you that she didn’t send you here for my blessing, because it would never occur to her to seek it. She undoubtedly wished to rid herself of you, in which case I can only apologize for her manners and wish you well.”
Casimir stared at the man, stunned, for a solid minute. He was rarely surprised by anyone, but Lockhart had managed to render him speechless, thoughtless, in a matter of seconds. For a moment Casimir even worried that the man was correct and Gini had sent him here to shake loose of him while she made other plans. Then he realized that while Lockhart’s logic was correct, it really shouldn’t worry him because he was already married to her. Suddenly it all seemed like the most entertaining thing he had ever heard. What started as a chuckle bloomed into a full laugh.
Although bemused, Lockhart didn’t join him in the laughter. “I’m glad that you can be so lighthearted about my daughter’s perfidy. Perhaps I can offer you a meal for your trouble?”
Casimir mastered his laughter. “I would be delighted and am hopeful that I can still gain your approval.”
“My approval will mean nothing to her.”
“Perhaps. But it will mean a lot to me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
If her emotional tenor going to Robert’s office had been dread, on her return to Jack’s house George was bereft. With his thin file and dark allusions, Robert had effectively shattered the fantasy she had been living in. Casimir was a wanted man. Wanted for what? By whom? She was tempted to still ignore the truth, but she knew that if she didn’t find out from Casimir that Robert would tell her. She would know the truth. And it was most likely correct that the source of her information would make a significant difference to her marriage. If, that was, they were to continue with their marriage once the truth was revealed.
She dragged herself into the Harrington household hoping that she could quietly return to her room and remain there. Luck was not on her side, and Jack walked into the foyer just as George was pulling off her gloves to hand to the butler.
“George! Famous. I was going over to see Sabre before they return to Belle Fleur. Would you care to join me?”
“I would prefer not to.”
“Are you not feeling well?” Ever solicitous Jack was already at her elbow, most likely inspecting her coloring and Lord knew what else in her never-ending quest to find out if George was all right.
“Not especially. I’ll be fine, Jack. Go see Sabre. Wish her well for me.”
“Are you increasing?” Jack whispered. “I felt abysmal for the first month or so.”
Although a possibility, George didn’t think so. It was more the pain in her heart. The fear or what her husband might be. The fear of l
osing who she thought he was. But as she looked up at Jack she weighed the option of saying yes. Of sending Jack off with what she would most likely spread as happy news. Earnest Jack. Best friend Jack.
Jack whose eyes widened. “Georgie, what’s wrong?”
That was when George realized she felt tears running down her face and off her chin. Bloody hell. Of all the inconvenient times to start crying. “Nothing,” she said petulantly, followed by a loud sniff.
But Jack gathered her up in a warm hug and the crying began in earnest. Sobbing, really. Embarrassing, lowering sobbing in the front hall of the Harrington townhouse, all because she had married a man she didn’t really know. It was horrifying. When the sobs subsided, Jack stepped away a bit and patted her on the back.
“Would you like to have a bath sent up?”
George couldn’t meet her friends eyes, but nodded while watching her own hands twisting together.
“Go on up, Georgie,” Jack said gently. “I’ll be here if you want to talk later.”
George trudged upstairs. Rather, she thought, Gini trudged upstairs. Strong, cynical George seemed nowhere in residence today.
*
Casimir took another sip of wine and sat back in his chair, enjoying the domestic scene in front of him. Mr. Lockhart had quietly apologized that his wife was not well and could not join them, confirming Casimir’s suspicion of illness affecting the household, and then asked if he might invite two of his older children to join them. Casimir, intensely curious about George’s family, had agreed. Thus he now looked on as James, who appeared old enough to be out in society, and Sarah, who was most likely still in the schoolroom, good-naturedly bickered. It had been some time since he had seen his own sister, and this brought back memories of their family dinners years ago. Mr. Lockhart seemed to have a good deal more patience than his own father had. As there was apparently yet another son too young to dine with guests, perhaps it was a great deal more patience.