by Regina Scott
A hit, but Joanna refused to acknowledge it aloud. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Allister.
His look was all pride. “Beauty, intellect, compassion. I could go on, but I fear the list is lengthy, and we should be going.” He nodded to the actress, who barely managed a smile before he led Joanna from the place.
Outside he carefully covered her head again.
“Surely there’s no need,” she protested.
“I refuse to take further chances. The fewer people who suspect your connection to my work, the better.” He glanced back at the building. “Even Miss Montgomery is one too many.”
“There were a few things I didn’t understand,” Joanna said as he started for the busier street at the corner. “Why are plum comfits of interest?”
“They are Miss Montgomery’s favorite. Apparently that isn’t widely known.”
“But our villain knows it?”
He nodded, and she took a deep breath. So that was why he’d been so shaken when the treat had been delivered to her as well.
“It might still be a coincidence,” she offered.
“As I said, I’d prefer not to take chances.”
Yet how many chances had he taken? How many was he even now taking to protect her?
“I don’t fear Miss Montgomery,” she told him. “Who would she tell about our acquaintance that would matter to me? My family and friends will stand by my side.”
“Most likely. You inspire such devotion.”
“Even from you?” The words were out before she could still them.
He bent to peer inside her hood, blue eyes bright. “Especially from me. Now, let’s get you home.”
He would not hear of walking all the way, going to a nearby stand to hire a cab. Neither did he allow her to remove the cloak until he had led her through the mews and into the kitchen. Cook and Molly the pot girl froze and stared at them.
“You will tell me what you learn at the War Office,” she said, ignoring them.
“If you insist.”
Even now he was fighting to keep her out of things.
“I do. We are to be married, Allister. That means we are partners in all things, the good and the bad. If you cannot allow that, I begin to question our future.”
He flinched. “You have made your point. I’ll return when I have news. Your servant, madam.”
She could only watch him leave, and hope.
–
She was too involved. Allister’s steps lengthened as he strode for the War Office. He could not allow this to continue. Her safety was all-important. He burst in on Lord Hastings, causing the fellow to raise a brow.
“We must capture the Skull,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“You’re not thinking clearly, my lad,” his superior maintained. “You’re entirely too involved.”
“When have you known me to lack in judgment?” Allister countered. “You all keep saying I’m the best man you have. Put me to work!”
Lord Hastings shook his head from where he sat behind the walnut desk. “You were the best man I had. Two things changed that. One—you retired. I know from experience that when a chap feels it’s time to quit, he’s generally right. Two—you can’t see beyond Joanna Lindby’s pretty face. Sorry, Trevithan. Let the other lads handle this one.”
“But they aren’t handling it,” Allister protested. He yanked the box from his pocket and threw it on the desk. “Look at that.”
Frowning, Hastings drew the box to him. He smoothed his palms down his bottle green coat, then carefully lifted the lid and peered in. His short nose wrinkled in obvious distaste.
“Nasty looking thing,” he said. “Where’d you get it?”
“That was delivered to Joanna Lindby,” Allister told him, “as a wedding present.”
Hastings glanced up at him and back down at the thick black-bodied creature. “I take it you see something evil in that?”
“Don’t you?” Allister demanded. “A bug with a jeweled pin through its back? Doesn’t that strike you as a rather menacing wedding present?”
“Strikes me as a thoroughly odd wedding present,” the marquis replied. He leaned back in his chair and eyed Allister. “However, it also strikes me as just the sort of creepy joke the Skull would enjoy.”
“Exactly,” Allister proclaimed. “She can’t be safe.”
Hastings stroked his mustache. “I could give her a bodyguard. Would that help?”
“Frankly, old man,” Allister replied with relief, “I’d be indebted to you.”
Hastings rose. “Good enough then. I’ll have someone at the house day and night. I take it you’ll clear that with Lady Lindby and your intended?”
Allister paused. “Must I? I’d prefer they didn’t know. I don’t want to worry them further.”
“Hard to protect someone who doesn’t know they need protecting,” Hastings pointed out. “What do you want the fellow to do, loiter in the street? Won’t that just tip off the Skull nicely?”
“You make a good case.”
Allister thought for a moment. Joanna had been through enough already. He hated to see her locked into having a strange man follow her about. But perhaps it didn’t need to be a stranger. He met Hastings’ frown.
“I have it. Davis can be your man during the day, and I’ll watch at night.”
“I’ve already told you you’re disqualified,” Hastings replied. “Besides, I can’t imagine Lady Lindby liking having her future son-in-law staying the night. People will talk.”
Before Allister could counter, someone knocked at the door. Hastings barked a command to enter, and Allister stepped aside and turned. The thick walnut door opened to admit Davis. Seeing Allister in front of the desk, he hesitated, then he squared the shoulders of his brown coat and moved into the room.
“Lord Hastings,” he greeted with a bow. “Lord Trevithan. I didn’t intend to interrupt.”
“Quite timely, actually,” their employer replied. “Seems the Skull has contacted Joanna Lindby.”
“What!” Davis cried, rushing forward. “When? Where? Is she all right?”
Allister eyed his friend. After working with Davis for ten years, he knew his temperament and responses well. Davis was cool under fire. Little rattled him. That he would so explode now could only mean something was up. Hastings must have wondered at the outburst as well, for he raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair again.
“Do you have something to contribute to this discussion, Mr. Laughton?” he asked.
Davis glanced between the two of them. He stood a little taller. “Yes, sir, I do. I was making my usual rounds in London, checking my sources…”
“And how is that new opera dancer at the Garden?” Hastings inquired dryly.
Davis had obviously regained his composure for he did not so much as flinch. “Ready to do her duty for England, my lord. May I continue?”
“Certainly.” Hastings waved him on expansively.
“Thank you. As I was saying, I checked my sources to see whether any of them had heard about the Skull being in England.”
“And what did you learn?” Allister demanded.
Davis met his frustrated gaze. “Brace yourself, old man. He got in a week ago.”
Allister stiffened. Some part of him had hoped he was wrong, that he’d somehow inflated the events all out of proportion. But it was true. The Skull was in London.
He waited for the shiver of anticipation to snake down his spine as it usually did when he had to match wits with the master spy. Instead, a heavy cold settled in his chest.
Joanna truly was in danger.
He could lose her.
“Did you hear me, Trev?” Davis probed. “I said you were right. The Skull is in London. We must stop him before he acts.”
“Bit late for that, I’m afraid,” Hastings put in. He poked the box across his desk with a thick finger. “Look at this, Laughton. Tell me what you make of it.”
; Davis frowned, glancing into the box. Then he looked up first at his employer and then at Allister, eyes clouded in obvious confusion.
“It appears to be a scarab beetle,” he replied. “Late Egyptian period, if I remember correctly from my studies at Oxford. Lord Elgin has several in his collection, as does Eugennia Welch. Someone steal one?”
Allister stepped forward to peer into the box even as Lord Hastings bent nearer as well.
“Egyptian, you say?” the marquis asked with a frown.
“In your opinion, Davy,” Allister murmured, mind sifting through possibilities, “would someone give this as a wedding present?”
Davis shrugged. “Bit pricey and somewhat fussy, but I believe the creatures were considered good luck, so it is possible.” He stiffened. “Oh, no! Are you saying someone sent this to Miss Lindby?”
Allister nodded. “It was in with the other wedding gifts. There was no tag.”
Davis pursed his lips. “And you think it was from the Skull?”
“It is rather like his usual tricks,” Hastings reminded him. “Remember the funeral wreath he sent to Lord Michman the day before he assassinated the fellow? Devilish sense of humor. But if the ugly thing is valuable, it does seem less likely. Still want to go through with your bodyguard idea, Trevithan?”
Allister shook his head. “No, my lord. Given Mr. Laughton’s report, I return to my earlier suggestion. We should try to capture the blackguard.”
“Let’s not start that again,” Hastings grumbled. “I will not use you as bait.”
“I agree,” Davis put in even as Allister opened his mouth to protest. “Sorry, Trev, but if you’re right, I’m not sure you’d make the best target. And I’d prefer to have you at my side.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Allister asked.
“I think we should use something flashier.”
“What would that be?” Hastings demanded.
“I suggest,” Davis said, widening the distance between himself and Allister, “that the best bait would be Joanna Lindby.”
Chapter Fourteen
Joanna puzzled about the strange gift the rest of the afternoon. She asked her mother about the matter, but Lady Lindby’s mind was already working on place settings for the wedding breakfast and her answers were even more confused than usual. In the end, Joanna could only go about her business and hope that Allister had been wrong.
She had planned on a quiet night home with her mother and was surprised when their butler announced Allister. She was even more surprised to find that the Marquis of Hastings and Davis Laughton were with him. Despite the late hour, all three were still dressed in their day clothes, dark coats and lighter pantaloons.
“My, how lovely,” her mother proclaimed as they bowed in turn over her hand. “It’s very good to see you again, Mr. Laughton. You must miss the country. And Lord Hastings. When was the last time I saw you? Didn’t that fellow have the longest reach?”
For once, Joanna was at a loss to translate. As Davis frowned and Allister grinned, Lord Hastings bowed again. “Your servant, Lady Lindby. Yes, we haven’t seen each other since the day your late husband Jonathan joined me for the boxing match between Gentleman Jackson and Mendoza. That was a day. Very sharp of you to remember.”
Her mother beamed.
“To what do we owe the honor of this visit?” Joanna put in, hoping to bring the conversation back to something they all knew.
Davis and Allister exchanged glances. Hastings smiled at her mother. “Why, I’d heard you’d received some very interesting wedding gifts.” He met Joanna’s gaze, and she remembered the insect. “I wonder, Lady Lindby, would you be willing to show them to me? I’m sure we can trust these young people to entertain themselves.”
Her mother agreed and happily led him off to the dining room where they had piled the gifts on the sideboard. Davis went to close the door behind them.
“What is it?” Joanna hissed to Allister. “Has something happened?”
His jaw was hard, his eyes harder as he watched his friend return. “Mr. Laughton has a proposal for you. I don’t like it above half, but I promised I’d stand by your decision.”
She frowned as Davis seated himself.
“Mr. Laughton?” she asked, indicating that he should proceed.
“Miss Lindby,” he began, just as seriously as Allister, “what I’m about to tell you must be kept in strictest confidence. You cannot speak of it to another living soul outside those in this room, including your mother and your minister. I must have your promise on that before I continue. Do you agree?”
She glanced at Allister who stared back at her unmoving. This was it. She was about to learn all. Excitement mingled headily with fear. She swallowed both down and sat straighter.
“I agree,” she said firmly.
Allister closed his eyes as if in prayer, then reopened them.
Davis nodded. “Excellent. Miss Lindby, I’m sure you’ll remember that I told you Lord Trevithan and I work for the War Office.”
Allister stiffened again, frowning at him, but Davis did not pause. “England has been at war for some time, and good men are needed.”
“I read the paper, Mr. Laughton,” she informed him. “I am not uneducated in civil affairs.”
“Of course,” he replied graciously, but somehow she did not think he believed her. “You will understand, then, that in any military endeavor, there is that effort which is reported in the papers and that effort which is done in silence.”
“Spies,” she murmured.
He glanced at Allister who did not so much as nod in encouragement. She felt for him, but she had to know the truth.
“Yes, Miss Lindby, spies, those who seek to understand the enemy and help England profit from that understanding. Lord Trevithan has assisted such endeavors several times in the past, as have I and Lord Hastings.”
She somehow thought assistance was the least of Allister’s contributions, but she merely nodded as he continued.
“We have recently learned that a dangerous French agent known as the Skull may be in London. We believe he may be the one who has been threatening you.”
“I see,” Joanna replied. Despite her best efforts, the fear was edging out the excitement. The tension in Allister was not the product of her imagination. Were they sending him away or incarcerating him for his own safety?
“What do you want of me?” she asked with difficulty.
Davis glanced at Allister again, and she braced herself for the answer. Davis returned his dark gaze to her. “We’d like your help in catching him.”
Joanna blinked. “My help?”
Allister leaned forward at last, laying a hand on her shoulder. She relished the touch and his strength, for she didn’t know how to respond.
“You don’t have to put yourself in danger, my dear,” he told her. “I told them this plan is unthinkable. A gently reared young lady is hardly the type to go against a master spy.”
Joanna stiffened. She should have been buoyed by his support, but his assessment stung. Did he think her a coward or merely incapable?
“Certainly we will understand if you decline,” Davis put in, watching her. “I cannot understate the danger. It takes a strong person to stand up to a devil like the Skull.”
Joanna glanced between the two of them. Allister’s eyes were stormy with emotion. He clearly did not want her to agree. Yet if she disagreed, would she not in effect have turned her back on his past, implied that she rejected it and him as well? And while she felt no need to endear herself to Davis Laughton, she could hear the challenge in his words. It would take a woman of strength to accept the challenge. Could any lesser woman hope to keep the heart of a man like Allister Fenwick?
“I told you this was a ridiculous idea,” Allister said heatedly to his friend.
“Yes, well, it was worth a try,” Davis maintained. “Sorry to have troubled you, Miss Lindby. I’ll fetch his lordship and—”
“I’ll do it,” Joanna interrupted b
efore her courage could flee.
“What?” Allister cried, releasing her to collapse against the back of the sofa.
Davis stared at her. “Miss Lindby, are you certain?”
“Yes, I am,” she said, willing herself not to back down as Allister stared at her. “I want to help. Tell me what you need me to do.”
“Joanna, you can’t,” Allister declared. “It’s too dangerous!”
“May I remind you, Lord Trevithan,” Davis said before Joanna could respond, “that you agreed to abide by Miss Lindby’s decision?”
“Well, I certainly never expected her to say yes!” Allister jumped to his feet and began to pace. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this could be, Joanna? No, of course you don’t. Hang it all, this man could kill you!”
Joanna shivered, but she forced herself to rise as well. “If he’s that dangerous then he could kill you too. Do you think I like the idea of you in danger?”
He paused to eye her. “Probably no better than I like the idea of you in that situation.”
“Precisely,” she said, crossing to his side and peering up at him. “This man threatens us, threatens our future. It sounds as if he threatens the very safety of England. Let me help you put a stop to it.”
He traced the outline of her cheek with one finger. “You’ve left me with little choice. I want to see this villain caught, Joanna. But if anything should happen to you…”
She caught his hand and pressed a kiss into his palm. “Nothing will happen,” she promised.
She thought for a moment he would continue to argue. Emotions danced across his face—anger, frustration, fear. But the one that touched her heart was the flash of pride, pride in her.
He turned to eye his friend. “Very well, then. You have your answer, Mr. Laughton. Let’s get this over with.”
–
The next afternoon, Joanna found herself waiting in a closed carriage near a small bakery, just off the Strand. It was the shop Miss Montgomery had implicated, and Davis Laughton had confirmed that the man known as the Skull had been seen buying bread there every afternoon for the last two days. They could only hope it was a pattern. She was to wait until he arrived, then go inside and make sure he knew who she was. She was then to find a way to leave and allow him to follow her. Davis, Allister, and the rest of Lord Hastings’ men would do the rest.