Too Hot for a Spy

by Pearl Wolf

  Chris grinned. “I couldn’t agree more, my lord duke. Her determination to succeed astonishes everyone involved in her training.”

  The duke sat silent for a time, absorbing this news. “Thank you, Darlington, for assuring me she is safe.”

  “I’m glad to have been able to ease your mind about her, but there is a further reason I am here, Your Grace, if you can spare me a few more moments of your time?” Chris spoke without a quaver in his voice, though in his heart he was shaking.

  “Yes? What is it?”

  “It’s about another of your daughters, Your Grace. Lady Helena.”

  The duke barked a laugh. “Don’t tell me she wants to be a spy as well?”

  “No, Your Grace. I ask your permission to pay my addresses to Lady Helena.”

  The duke glared at him. “I’ve turned you down twice, haven’t I? You’re persistent. I’ll say that for you. But you must know I cannot give you my consent. Such a match is unsuited to her station as the daughter of a duke.”

  “She wants to be my wife, a state I desire as much, Your Grace. We’ve been devoted to one another since our schoolroom days.”

  “Nonsense. You mistake proximity for love. You were merely thrown together as children. Helena put you up to this, didn’t she?”

  “Not at all, sir. She tried hard to dissuade me, in fact.

  She has even gone so far as to be willing to defy you and elope with me to Gretna Green, but that’s not the way to our happiness and so I warned your daughter. It is I who want your blessings, Your Grace, for without that, neither of us can be truly content.”

  “Well said, but you are only a second son, Darlington. You have no title, nor do you have any prospects. How can my daughter continue to live in the manner to which she has been brought up?”

  “My financial position has altered, Your Grace. I am well able to support your daughter now. My brother deeded our London town house to me on my birthday, and I have signed an agreement to purchase a country seat near Bath.

  “I am well aware, Your Grace, that the woman I love is a duke’s daughter. But I can now provide a comfortable life for my future wife. And though I cannot offer her a title, your daughter shall want for nothing, as I am sure we both would wish for her. For most of the year we’ll live right next door to Your Grace, for I intend to continue my work in the home office. In time, I shall own an estate near Bath, which includes park-like grounds and a large pond which will suit us and the children we hope to have quite well.”

  Their conversation lasted for more than two hours, for the duke questioned his daughter’s suitor with an intensity born of financial wisdom, but Darlington would not waver. He countered every objection with firmness. At last, the weary duke rang for his butler, who entered almost at once, causing His Grace to suspect that he had been listening just outside the door.

  “Didn’t take you too long, Dunston, did it? Find Lady Helena and ask her to come to the library.”

  When the door closed, the duke rose and said to Chris, “I wish to speak to my daughter alone, young man.”

  “I understand, Your Grace. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak from my heart.”

  “How long are you staying in Brighton, may I ask?”

  “I’m on holiday, sir. I shall be in the vicinity for a fortnight. I’m planning to stay at an inn nearby.”

  “Nonsense. I insist you be our guest. Dunston will escort you to one of our chambers.”

  Chris bowed himself out and turned, only to face Helena when she came to the library door. He put one finger to his lips to silence the question in her eyes, yet there was a decided twinkle in his. He mouthed the word “garden,” bowed, and retreated.

  Helena went to her father’s chair and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You sent for me, Father?”

  “Sit down, Helena. It’s time we talked.”

  Wilson Academy—“I’ve met every challenge, done everything every other trainee has done, borne every indignity…”

  “Indignity, Fairchild? The only indignity you have voiced to us is that you’ve broken all your precious fingernails.”

  Olivia planted her hands on her hips and said, “I demand the opportunity to box, sir. How can I learn to defend myself otherwise?”

  Sebastian rounded on her. “You are not in a position to demand anything at all, my girl! Nothing would please me more than to see the back of you. And the sooner the better. You cannot obey orders and you cause no end of trouble. Besides, it’s nothing to do with me. None of your mates will climb into the ring with you.”

  “And why is that, may I ask? Sir?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? Boxing is a gentleman’s art. Don’t you know that no gentleman will strike a lady?”

  Her eyes were on fire. “Since you are no gentleman, sir, why don’t you undertake the task?”

  “Don’t tempt me, Fairchild!” Sebastian said, seething at the provocation. “I’ve arranged alternate training to replace boxing. Sensei Nori has agreed to design private martial arts training for you in place of boxing. He will see that you learn to defend yourself should the need arise.”

  “Have I no say in this matter?”

  “None at all. Dismissed.”

  Olivia returned to boxing class, furious at what she considered shabby treatment. She put on her padded gloves and proceeded to pummel the punching bag that hung from a chain as if it were the spymaster’s head. Take that, you beast! And that. Here’s one on the chin, you miserable cur!

  “Fairchild!” Hawes said in alarm. “Stop beating that bag so hard. You’ll knock it off its chain.”

  She turned her head in surprise at this unexpected interruption. “Right, sir,” she said, but when she turned back to the punching bag, the wildly swinging missile struck her in the eye and knocked her flat.

  Hawes rushed to her aid. Alarmed, for her eyes were closed, he said, “Wake up, Fairchild.” Much relieved when she opened one eye, he added, “Are you all right?”

  “Knocked the wind out of me, is all, sir. If you’ll just help me up…”

  But when he tried to set her on her feet, her knees buckled.

  “It’s lunchtime, sir,” said Riggs, rushing to hold her other side. “We’ll take her there and look after her.”

  “No. She should be taken to her room to rest. I’ll see she’s dismissed for the day.”

  “No! Please, sir. I’m all right,” Olivia pleaded.

  “We’ll be responsible for her, sir, I promise you. No need to worry,” added Carter.

  When Hawes gave his reluctant consent, the trainees trooped downstairs to their dining hall, Riggs holding one arm and Carter the other. Once seated, the twins took it upon themselves to fetch her lunch, while Perkins poured her tea.

  “Drink it, Fairchild,” he said. “It will help revive you.”

  Olivia let out a weak laugh. “I’ve finally turned you all into my slaves. If you think that pleases me, you’re wrong. I wouldn’t need any of you to help me, if you hadn’t all been such traitors.”

  Riggs looked puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been excused from boxing and consigned to work with the sensei while you lot pummel one another. And that’s because none of you are brave enough to face me in the ring.”

  “No, Fairchild. Not lack of bravery,” said Perkins. “Sheer terror of your skills. I won’t box you for fear you’ll knock my head off my shoulders. By the way. What made you hit that bag with such ferocity?”

  A wicked gleam lit up her good eye. “I was imagining the punching bag was the spymaster’s thick head.”

  The others laughed just as the door opened to admit Sebastian, who pretended he hadn’t heard her last remark. “Let me have a look at that eye, Fairchild.”

  “It’s nothing, sir,” she protested, while the other trainees cast their eyes down and concentrated on eating their lunch.

  “Finish your lunch and report to my office.” He nodded to the others and withdrew.

  “Buck up, l
ass. He can’t dismiss you for something so trivial as a blackened eye,” said Perkins.

  “Nor would we let him,” said Carter.

  Riggs patted him on his back. “Right on. We’ll all resign if he does.”

  “Thanks, lads,” she said, too choked up by their loyalty to say more.

  With words of encouragement ringing in her ears, Olivia went downstairs and knocked on the spymaster’s door. She was not only battle-ready, but spoiling for a fight.

  “Come in.”

  “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  “Yes. I want to examine your eye more closely. Come over to the window. The light is better there.”

  “Why, sir?”

  “Don’t be impertinent, Fairchild. I mean to send for a physician if I find it necessary.”

  “Is it to be a physician of your choice, one who will then find an excuse to dismiss me from the program? You’ll do no such thing!”

  His face reddened, for that thought had crossed his mind. “Oh, do be quiet, you odious creature!” He put his hands on her shoulders, propelled her roughly to the window and lifted her chin to the light. “Your eye is closed shut. On second thought, a physician won’t do. We’ll have to send for an oculist.”

  “But, you…”

  “You’ll do as I say, or I’ll…!”

  “Or you’ll what?” Olivia’s good eye blazed as she added, “Sir!”

  Sebastian, having not yet let go of her chin, tried to restrain himself, but wild visions of permanent damage to her eye tortured him. He bent as if to examine her injured eye more closely. Without thinking, his lips found hers. He parted them and probed the inside of her mouth with his tongue.

  Every conflicted feeling stirred within her as he kissed her. The right thing to do was to stop this invasion, but she had lost the will to protest. Instead, she savored the sensations that coursed through her body. She’d allow him his way a few moments longer, perhaps.

  When she broke away she said, “You’ve just kissed me, sir.”

  He brushed her hair from her face and smiled. “So I have.”

  “Why?”

  He grinned at her. “How else am I to quiet your foolish chatter?”

  “Well,” she protested a bit lamely, “don’t you dare try that again, sir.”

  His eyes danced. “Why not? You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers once again. Good God! Why is this temptress lurking in my spy school when she was made for love?

  His hands caressed her back as the kiss deepened. He could feel her response, a slight shiver that sent a message, one that threatened to embarrass him. But it disappeared at once when her knees buckled.

  He caught her in his arms, carried her to the sofa and put her down gently, oddly pleased at the flush on her face. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Just a bit…dizzy, sir.”

  He rang for a servant. “Send for Denville and Mrs. Hunnicut and find footmen to carry Fairchild to her room.”

  When Denville entered the room, the spymaster said, “Do you know of an oculist residing in Havelshire or must we send for a London practitioner?”

  “I believe there is one nearby, sir.”

  “Summon him at once, Hugh. I need him to examine Fairchild’s eye for damage.”

  The news spread throughout the academy like an avalanche of pebbles rolling downhill. It took no time at all for an army of servants, trainees and instructors to gather outside the spymaster’s open door. In truth, it wanted only the stable boys and the gardeners to complete the roster. Rumors ran the gamut from poor Fairchild suffering a mere fainting spell to her untimely death, the last horror quickly to be scotched.

  But the mob cheered when Olivia appeared very much alive in the arms of a strong footman. She waved to them as he carried her up the grand staircase. Instead of placing Olivia in her tiny cell, Mrs. Hunnicut directed the footman to carry the patient to her own more comfortable sitting room, where he placed her on a cot that had been assembled for the purpose. The housekeeper directed an under maid to request from Fourier a slab of raw beef.

  In the days to come, traffic on the back staircase, from the basement kitchen to the attic, where Olivia lay recuperating in the housekeeper’s sitting room, threatened to disrupt the entire spy program.

  This reaction astounded Sebastian, who had to fight his way from his ground floor office to the attic to visit the patient. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Better, sir. Thank you for sending for the oculist. I own it was a relief to hear from his lips that there will be no permanent damage to my eye.”

  “He relieved my mind as well.” Sebastian’s eyes fell on a table laden with an inordinate amount of fresh fruit, cheeses, pies and tarts. “What’s all this?”

  She shrugged. “Gifts from some of my…friends.”

  “You appear to have many ah…admirers,” he said, wondering how, in so short a time, Fairchild had managed to win the hearts of so many at Wilson Academy.

  A startling thought intruded. He wondered how it was that this hoydenish creature threatened to win his heart as well.

  Chapter Nine

  Wilson Academy—Monday, The Fifth of August

  Olivia hurried down the path to the swim class at the lake, her first. She had been forced to wait for her eye to heal and had missed the first two classes. Olivia felt the sun warming her face, or was it the flush of anticipation upon her cheeks? She was all eagerness to swim, something she hadn’t done since the previous summer at Heatham.

  When she rushed upstairs to change into her bathing costume, she’d missed the cart taking the other trainees there for swimming. Her modiste in London had assured her that it was all the rage. The costume was made of the finest wool, its dark blue color enhanced by white stripes on the flared hem and again on the long sleeves. She wore the knee-length dress over bloomers. The daring outfit had been named after Amelia Bloomer, who urged women to adopt the new, more practical, far less cumbersome costume. Such a garment would eliminate the need for a bathing machine, that horse-drawn room on wheels with a back door out of which a woman could be assisted into the water by attendants.

  Olivia found the walk invigorating on such a fine day. She drew in her breath when she sighted the ripples of water on the lake. When she spied movement ahead, she called out, “I’m coming, mates!” A few steps more brought her in sight of the other trainees. Her mouth fell open, for the other trainees had not a stitch of clothing on.

  “It’s Fairchild,” someone shouted. Hoots of laughter greeted her as the trainees dove into the water while swimming instructor Ned Mason shouted encouragement. “That’s the ticket. Dive in and cover up, lads.”

  “No one said anything about swimming in the buff,” Olivia grumbled, taking a few timid steps closer.

  Mason cleared his throat. “The lads have been used to swimming this way, you see. We didn’t expect you today, Fairchild.”

  “I missed the other classes because of my eye, sir.”

  Mason, whose grizzled beard and sharp blue eyes reminded everyone of St. Nicholas, answered in an apologetic tone, “I know that, lass. The lads began training while you was ill and all. Best for you to go back the way you came. You can’t very well join them in the water. It wouldn’t be proper-like.”

  A wicked gleam lit her face. Just you try and stop me! “Oh yes, I certainly can join them, sir. I’ve a brother, you know. It isn’t as if I’m shocked, or anything. Well, just at first.” She began to disrobe.

  Aghast, Mason covered his eyes. “No, no, Fairchild. Keep your clothing on. I beg you!”

  The trainees took in every word as they treaded water.

  “I dare you, Fairchild,” egged Carter.

  “Five to one odds, she don’t do it,” offered one of the twins.

  “A shilling says she does,” Riggs shot back. “Come on, Fairchild. Join us!”

  Sebastian, on his customary morning ride, heard a loud commotion coming from the lake. Curious, he stee
red his horse round the bend to investigate. When he dismounted, though he was well able to witness Fairchild’s shocking behavior, he hid behind a convenient oak tree to shield him from sight. Why, that shameless hussy! Are there no limits to the depths of her depravity?

  “Turn your eyes away, lads,” Olivia said as she walked out to the end of the log from which the others had launched themselves.

  Sebastian bit his lip to keep from laughing. What demon possesses her?

  She dove in, cutting the water without a ripple, but the cold water brought forth a gasp as well as a most unladylike choice of words.

  “Good show, Fairchild. You’re a right one!” said Perkins in admiration.

  “Race you lads to the far end of the lake—where that weeping willow tree is—and back,” she challenged. “Be warned. I mean to show you no mercy! Ready? Go!”

  BillyBob had no time to offer odds as the trainees paddled furiously toward the other end. Sebastian stepped out from behind the tree and beckoned to the swim instructor.

  He spoke in a calm tone of voice, as if nothing were amiss, “Had you planned to teach something today, Ned? Whatever it may have been, I’m sure this isn’t it.”

  “Diving, sir. Thought the lads could use more practice.” His voice was filled not only with chagrin but with admiration. “Did you see Fairchild’s dive? Doesn’t need any instruction from me, let me tell you.”

  “You’ve lost control of your class, Ned. You’ll not be able to teach anything at all this day, I assure you.” Not with that hoyden mucking up the works. “Go on back to the academy. I’ll finish this for you. And no more dipping in the buff. All right?”

  “Don’t have to say it twice, sir. Me heart stopped beating when that saucy little puss shed every stitch.” Mason hurried off. He raised his hand and waved without looking back.