Too Hot for a Spy

by Pearl Wolf

  “I didn’t ask you for an evaluation of her skills, did I?” Sebastian snapped.

  “Sorry, sir. Are you wanting to see her?”

  “At once!” His anger evaporated at the stricken look on the man’s face, especially since Hugh had become more of a friend and a confidante than merely an aide. “Sorry for lashing out, Hugh. I’m not angry with you, my friend.

  “Fact is, I’ve received a letter from the home office. It’s our marching orders to protect Prince Joachim of Zarkovia. He arrives at the East India docks in London tomorrow afternoon.”

  Denville looked surprised. “You knew the prince was expected. Why are you so snappish? Is there a problem?”

  “Yes, a big one. I’ve been directed to exclude Fairchild from this operation.” He thrust the letter at Denville to read. “For her own safety,” it says here. Her father may have had a hand in this, I suspect. The Duke of Heatham has enough power in government to force his will on Sidmouth.”

  “We both know Fairchild won’t take the news very well, sir. Do you wish me to break it to her?”

  Sebastian considered the offer, but rejected it out of hand. “No, Hugh. Thank you for the offer, but I’m not such a coward as all that.”

  Olivia knew at once from the look on his face that something was wrong when she entered his office. “What’s troubling you, my darling? I can see it in your eyes.” Olivia tried to circle his desk to embrace him, but he shook his head to hold her off.

  “Sit, Fairchild.” He pointed to the chair opposite and leaned back.

  Something’s terribly wrong. Else why would he call me Fairchild? “Sir? What is it you wish to see me about?”

  “The staff has been given an assignment in London, which I am to lead. I have appointed you spymaster in my absence. You will be fully in charge of all activities here.”

  “In charge of what activities? The scullery maids? What on earth are you talking about, my love?”

  He half rose from his seat and pounded his fist on his desk. “This is vital government business! For heaven’s sake Fairchild, do your duty and for once obey my bloody order!”

  Was there a pleading note in his harsh voice? she wondered. “Are the other trainees part of your team, sir?” she asked in an even tone.

  Sebastian shuffled the papers on his desk. “Dismissed, Fairchild.” He did not raise his eyes to her when he heard her push back her chair, but he winced when she slammed the door hard. He sat frozen for what seemed to him like hours, elbows on his desk, holding his head between his hands.

  At dawn the following morning, the stable boy held the reins of Sebastian’s horse while he mounted. All the instructors, all the trainees, as well as every able-bodied footman, groom and stable hand were mounted on horseback awaiting the spymaster’s signal to depart for London.

  Mrs. Hunnicut, Olivia at her side, witnessed the departure from the open front door. The two women watched in silence as Sebastian raised one hand in signal, and rode off at the head of the contingent, like a general leading his army into battle.

  “Why not take the rest of the day to rest, Fairchild?” the housekeeper said when the last of the group were out of sight.

  “I think I will, ma’am, but first I must complete a task the spymaster left for me in his office.”

  “Of course, dear. I’m off to inspect supplies. Will you take lunch with me?”

  “Yes, I’d like that.” Olivia strolled away at an unhurried pace toward the spymaster’s office. An under footman stood guard in front of his door, but she couldn’t recall his name.

  “I’m in charge of operations today, lad,” she said with her most ingratiating smile. “Allow me to enter please, to do my work.”

  “Of course, ma’am,” he said, and held open the door to the spymaster’s office for her.

  She sat at Sebastian’s desk and began to read through the neatly stacked files he had left for her. She read them through, but she didn’t find what she was looking for. She tried the desk drawers. They opened easily to her touch—all but one. She crawled under the desk in search of some sort of spring mechanism that would release the locked drawer, but she found none. Nothing for it but to force it open, she knew, convinced that there she would find the information she desired.

  Olivia sat back in her seat, smoothed back her hair, and contemplated how best to accomplish this. She tried the letter opener on the desk, but it wasn’t strong enough. Her eyes scanned the office for some sort of implement that might serve in its place. When her eyes settled on the fireplace andiron, she knew she had found the appropriate tool.

  The locked drawer was no match for the heavy iron, though the wooden desk drawer splintered in the process. Ignoring the damage, Olivia searched through the contents of the drawer until she found the detailed plans to protect visiting Prince Joachim when his ships were secured at the East India docks. She kicked the splinters under the desk and covered the mess she’d made as best she could.

  She spread Sebastian’s files out all over the desk to make it look as though she were working, and rose to leave.

  “Thank you,” she said to the footman outside the door. “I haven’t finished my work as yet. Make sure no one enters the office until I return.”

  “Of course, ma’am,” he said, hoping his diligence in following her orders would earn him a promotion. With the extra pay he would be able to marry at last.

  Olivia kept a calm pose during lunch with Mrs. Hunnicut. She returned to Sebastian’s office and pretended to be busy until dinnertime. It was easy to disguise her intentions when she and the housekeeper dined. All she had to do was to ask Mrs. Hunnicut questions about her past. The lady was flattered enough to respond throughout the entire meal.

  When she retired for the night, Olivia lay on her cot fully dressed. She managed a light sleep, but she rose at first light and crept down the back stairs. She stopped in the kitchen to see her kitten, who purred contentedly when she tickled his belly. “Be a good lad, little Sebastian. I’m off to save the prince,” she whispered, pouring extra milk into his dish.

  London—Darlington was waiting for him when Sebastian led his small army into the yard of the home office. Waiting stable boys gathered all the reins and led the animals off to be watered, fed and brushed down until such time as the Wilson Academy men were ready to leave for home.

  Darlington escorted them all into a large dining room where lunch awaited the men. “The ships haven’t docked as yet,” he said to Sebastian in a low voice as the hungry men fell to their task.

  “Disguises? Weapons?”

  “Ready and waiting for all your people. My clerks have been instructed to escort your men to the changing room when they finish their lunch.”

  Sebastian grinned. “I needn’t have asked. You are the most efficient soldier in our small army.”

  Darlington smiled. In jest, he said, “What else have I to do today, spymaster, but your bidding? Let’s leave these hungry warriors to their feast. We’re invited to lunch with the home secretary.” He led the way to Sidmouth’s office.

  “Welcome to London, spymaster. Plans all in place, Darlington?”

  “Yes, sir,” Chris replied. “The academy men are downstairs having their lunch.”

  “I trust my special order was followed?” The home secretary nodded to the footman to begin serving them.

  Sebastian said, “Of course, sir. Fairchild remains in safety at the academy. I assigned her to take my place as spymaster in my absence.”

  “Clever of you. I have to admit that I am relieved to hear she’s safe. Her father has been breathing down my neck for days.”

  Chris bent to the task of eating his soup, trying hard not to chuckle at what he suspected was a blatant lie.

  “Where are you off to so early in the morning, Fairchild?” asked Mrs. Hunnicut when she entered the kitchen.

  “It’s such a fine day, I fancy a brisk walk, ma’am. Just a quick one before I join you for breakfast.”

  “Be sure to take someone wit
h you, dear.”

  Olivia grinned. “No need to worry, Mrs. Hunnicut. I have no intention of getting lost again. I’ll not be long, I promise.”

  “Have a good walk, then.”

  “I’ll join you in the dining room soon. I promise, ma’am.”

  As soon as she was out of Mrs. Hunnicut’s sight, Olivia rushed to the stables where Jenny was waiting. She entered an empty stall to change into the tattered clothing Jenny supplied. She smeared some ash to dirty her face and pulled the wool cap over her hair to cover it completely. “How do I look, Jenny?”

  “Like any other London chimney sweep. Try not to show your hands, though. They’re a dead giveaway.”

  “Hand me those filthy work gloves, then. They should do the trick. Where’s Teddy?”

  “Outside, holding the reins.”

  “Then let’s get on with it.”

  When she was mounted, Jenny said, “Teddy will lead you to my brother Bill. He’s waiting just outside the village. Here’s a lunch I prepared for you and my brother. London’s a long way off.”

  “I can’t thank you enough, Jenny. You too, Teddy. Let’s be off, then. I want you back at the academy with these horses stabled before anyone has a chance to notice you’re gone.”

  “Right, then.” Teddy blew Jenny a kiss and spurred his horse, Olivia following behind.

  They found Bill just where his sister said he would be waiting. Olivia climbed up beside him, took the food basket Teddy handed her and waved good-bye.

  Conversation was limited on the journey to London, for Bill was a man of few words. But he did have a hearty appetite and Jenny’s basket was empty by the time they reached London. His destination was the open market near Covent Garden where he sold hens’ eggs as well as vegetables he and his wife grew on their farm. The East India docks weren’t far out of his way.

  When Bill stopped his cart to let Olivia climb down, he tipped his hat and pointed. “Docks are ten minutes’ walk down that lane yonder, lad.” Jenny hadn’t told her brother that Olivia was not a boy.

  “Thank you kindly, Bill,” Olivia answered in a voice lowered by two octaves. She waved to him and watched his wagon disappear before consulting her map, the one she’d copied from Sebastian’s plans. From these, she knew the exact location of each man involved in the operation.

  She heard the militia band playing, “God Save the King” before she actually came upon the colorful scene. When she turned the corner, her eyes widened at the sight of the three magnificent sailing ships festooned with colorful banners, the Zarkovian flags proudly flying on all three. She made her way through the crowd, where she spied Carter near the bandstand below the visitors’ platform.

  Sidmouth and Chris were on the welcoming platform seated on either side of the lord mayor of London. There were many other men as well, prominent members of Parliament, she guessed.

  Olivia eyed Riggs at the bottom of the gangplank on the left side and Perkins on the right side. She checked her map and followed its path with one of her fingers. Riggs was posted nearest Denville, positioned ten feet away. Her heart skipped a beat when she spied Sebastian a few steps behind Perkins, his eyes glued to the top of the gangplank. By then, it was well past three in the afternoon.

  When the band struck up what she supposed was the Zarkovian national anthem, Olivia stood stock still and drew in her breath. From the report in Sebastian’s office—the one she had committed to memory—she knew it was the signal for the prince to disembark.

  Chapter Sixteen

  London—Same Day

  When the Prince of Zarkovia made his appearance at the top of the gangplank, he waved to the cheering crowd below. Olivia noted that he was a handsome young man, tall, dark-skinned, with high Slavic cheekbones, an aquiline nose, shining black hair and a thin mustache. Prince Joachim took a step down when a shot rang out, the noise barely discernible above the music.

  But Olivia heard the shot and whipped her head toward Sebastian who had also heard it. She watched him take off at a run in the direction of the rifle blast. She sprinted after him through the crowd, ignoring the shouts and the disorder nearest the ship carrying the prince. She left the task of safeguarding the prince to the others. Her concern was for Sebastian. She was forced to bounce up often to keep him in sight, no easy task in the crush of people on the docks. He turned into a dark, narrow lane where she lost sight of him, but only for a moment.

  She was perhaps twenty steps behind him when she got to that lane, just in time to see an unconscious Sebastian being dragged along by two of four men into a nearby building. She pressed herself against the wall, her eyes glued to Sebastian, whose head was hanging limp, his eyes shut. A third man ran up the steps of the ramshackle building and held open the door. When she caught a glint of steel, part of a pistol held by the last man turning into the building, she let out a tense whoosh of breath. Four men. Sebastian unconscious. Think up a plan to rescue him from the assassins.

  Olivia stood frozen in her tracks, trying to decide on what action she could take, when two strong hands gripped her shoulders and held tight. “Let go of me,” she growled, struggling to free herself.

  “Don’t make another sound, Fairchild,” a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

  “That you, Riggs? Thank heaven you’re here. How did you find me?”

  “I knew something was up when I saw you running away from the docks after the shot was fired—the prince wasn’t hit, by the way—I figured you saw something and decided to follow.” He grinned at her. “I knew you couldn’t have been running away because you’ve never run from a fight in your life.”

  She smothered a laugh. “I was never more happy to see you, Riggs. The spymaster’s in trouble. He was knocked unconscious and dragged into that building over there. You go get help. I’m going in.”

  “You’re not going anywhere, my girl. Not without me.”

  “There are four of them. The two of us can’t fight them alone.”

  “All the more reason you’re not going in alone. We have to make a plan.”

  “You’re right. We need to come up with a strategy.”

  “Do you have a gun?”

  “No. Where’s yours? I thought everyone was issued a gun before you left the home office for this mission.”

  Riggs blushed. “I lost mine when I ran after you.”

  “I have only my knife. We’ll have to make do with that. You stay here and I’ll saunter past the building, to see what I can see. Then I’ll come back. Okay?”

  Riggs scratched his head. “I don’t know, Fair—”

  But she slipped out from under his arm and walked the few steps toward the building just as one of the assassins came outside, apparently for a breath of air, for it was a stifling hot day. Riggs heard her ask him in a deepened voice, “Got a copper, guv? I’m that ’ungry, I am.”

  The man mumbled something in an unfamiliar tongue. He waved one hand at her in a dismissive gesture, a glint of steel visible in his other hand.

  “Keep yer knickers on, guvnor. Didn’t mean no ’arm.”

  Riggs ran up and grabbed her by the collar. “Don’t be beggin’ fer yersel’, lad, when ye’re workin’ f ’ me,” he yelled. “I paid fer yer to do an honest day’s work pickin’ pockets, not beggin’.” He turned to the man on the steps. “Beg pardon, guv. Brat’s allus runnin’ away.”

  The man waved his hand in dismissal once again and disappeared inside the building.

  Riggs pulled Fairchild around the corner out of sight should the man return. “I’ll give you a boost up to the window sill, lass. Tell me what you see.”

  She stepped onto Riggs’ clasped fingers and boosted herself up to the sill. “Nothing,” she whispered. “Let’s try the next one.”

  Riggs repeated the boost at the next window. “He’s in there, Riggs! Trussed up like a pig, poor sod.” She jumped to the ground just as the noise of footsteps caused them to flatten against the wall. Two of the assassins passed right by them as they hurried down the street.
They did not so much as glance down the lane where Olivia and Riggs were hiding.

  “Phew! That was a close one,” said Riggs, wiping his brow.

  “Stay on your guard. They may be back all too soon.” She crept back to the front of the building and looked both ways. “See here, Riggs. Just look at all the people on the street. That’s to our advantage.”

  Riggs peeked over her shoulder and said, “Prostitutes and drunks. Unsavory bunch, if you ask me. What good can they do us?”

  “This is our chance, don’t you see? The spymaster’s in there with only two men. We’re trained to take advantage of unusual situations. I have an idea, but we’ll need some money. How much do you have with you?”

  He reached into his trouser pocket and came up with a few coins totaling just under a pound. Olivia grabbed them all. “That all you have? Well, it will have to do.” She tucked the coins into her trousers.

  “You’re not alone in this, Fairchild. Tell me what you plan to do,” he said.

  “Look out, Riggs. The first two are coming back. They’re munching on a paper full of fish and chips, for heaven’s sake! We’ll have to take his kidnappers one at a time. That’s the only way we can save the spymaster’s life. Be right back.”

  She sauntered away from the puzzled trainee as if she hadn’t a care in the world. At last she saw what she was looking for. A woman covered with garish face paint slouched in a doorway, her hands on her hips. She was dressed in a gaudy costume meant to attract male customers.

  Olivia swaggered up to her and said in a gruff voice, “Ow much, then?”

  The woman looked her up and down and said, “Off w’you, lad. I don’t do little boys. I ‘ave me pride, y’know.”

  Olivia checked her grin and flashed the coins she held in her hand. In her natural voice, she said, “Good for you, lass. I don’t want your trade. I just want to pay you to borrow your clothes for ten minutes.”

  “What’ll I wear, then? I’ll catch me death.”