Too Hot for a Spy

by Pearl Wolf

“Change into mine. It’s only for ten minutes. And you can rest your feet and have a pint while you wait. I’m sure that inn across the way has a tavern.”

  The woman eyed Olivia and thought a moment. “Only ten minutes? You won’t be stealin’ any o’my customers, then? Guess you could pass for a woman, lad. Follow me.” The two changed clothing under the staircase in the hallway. Olivia tried to hold her breath against the rank smell, a mixture of urine and alcohol and God knew what all else.

  “’Ere. Let me fix yer face a bit.” Without waiting for an answer, she opened her purse and found her color pots, just like the ones actresses at Covent Garden used, most likely. She used her fingertips and applied various shades to Olivia’s face. “There. Yer own mum wouldn’t reckonize you now.”

  “Where shall I find you when I’m finished, ma’am?”

  “Like you said, I’ll be awaitin’ ’cross the way in that there tavern.” She walked off, whistling and jingling the coins in her pocket.

  “Fancy a tumble, sir?” Olivia asked Riggs when she returned to him.

  He barely looked at her. “Go away. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  She laughed softly. “It’s me, Riggs. If I fooled you, I’ll fool those men. Wait here and when I lure one of them into the alley, bash his head in. Pick up that heavy board over there and keep your fingers crossed. Give me time to make them think I’m what you thought I was. Here’s my knife. Keep it handy.”

  With hope in his voice, Riggs said, “It might work, but it’s dangerous.”

  Olivia shrugged. “We’re spies, aren’t we? Now’s the time to put it to the test. I’m off, then. Wish me luck, lad.”

  “The prince and his followers are safe at Carlton House, sir.”

  “Thank heavens for that, Darlington. It would have been our heads if anything happened to the prince. Have the assassins been caught yet?”

  “No, sir. Denville, the spymaster’s aide, is conducting an intensive search for them.”

  Sidmouth looked puzzled. “Denville? Where’s the spymaster?”

  “I’m afraid he’s disappeared, sir. We can’t find him anywhere.”

  Sidmouth glared at his aide as though the messenger were to blame. “Intensify the search, then. Enlist the Bow Street Runners. Alert the militia. Do everything in your power to find him, for if the assassins have him, they’ll torture him to try to get him to reveal Prince Joachim’s whereabouts.”

  “Yes, sir. At once, sir.” Darlington knew it was useless to point out that he’d already notified Bow Street and the local garrison. Far more diplomatic to allow the home secretary to believe it was his own idea.

  As Chris turned to leave, Sidmouth added, “Thank heaven I’ve managed to keep Heatham’s daughter out of this botched operation. One of my best strategies, eh?”

  “I couldn’t agree more, sir.” Chris hurried out of the office, anxious to find a secure place where he could not be heard. He let loose a crack of laughter at the home secretary’s insistence on taking credit where none was actually due.

  Olivia put one hand on her hip and one foot on the bottom step and began to whistle. When he heard it, a man came out of the door to the right of the rickety steps to investigate. Olivia gave him what she hoped was a lascivious come hither look and crooked her finger. He understood her meaning at once and followed her to the corner. She allowed him to grab her, giving her the chance to turn his back to Riggs, who promptly rendered the unsuspecting man unconscious with the aid of the heavy board. He removed the man’s belt and tied his hands securely behind his back.

  “One down, three to go,” Olivia whispered, and hurried back to the steps. It didn’t take long for a second man to peer out, searching both ways for his colleague. She repeated the come-hither look and the man swaggered down the steps toward her. He was heavier than the first, but when Riggs hit him, he fell like a ton of coal.

  “That leaves two,” she said when she had helped haul him out of sight. “Do you think we ought to storm the building and try to take them?”

  “Good idea, lass. Why don’t you sashay up those stairs and knock on the door? When one of them opens it, we’ll force our way in.”

  But no one answered her knock. She tried the door handle. It was locked. Without a word, Riggs pointed to her shoulder then to the door. She nodded in understanding and the two put their shoulders forward as one and rammed into it. The door gave way at once.

  The spymaster was lying on his side, securely tied hands to feet. His mouth was gagged, but his eyes were in motion. He used them to point to the direction of the assassin’s gun. To no avail, for Fairchild and Riggs were too busy to notice.

  “You take the one near the spymaster. I’ll take the other one.”

  The man she chose was a burly six-foot monster more than three times her weight. She bowed to him as Sensei Nori had taught her. And swept his leg out from under him. When his head connected to the floor, he was knocked unconscious.

  She turned to Riggs, locked in a struggle he appeared to be losing. “Sensei, Riggs,” Olivia shouted. They both knew how to overcome superior strength with martial arts tactics.

  With a mighty heave, Riggs rolled out from under his opponent and rose to his feet. He bowed to his opponent, in the ancient Japanese style, startling his enemy into confusion. He then proceeded to outwit his opponent by employing holds, chokes, throws, trips, joint-locks and well-placed kicks and strikes with the side of his hand. But the remaining assassin fought back with ferocity. And appeared to be winning when Riggs began to lose steam.

  Sebastian’s eyes caught hers and again they directed her to the gun on the floor. She reached for it at the same time the assassin attempted to kick it away with one foot, but his hands were kept busy throttling his opponent. Riggs’ face was as red as a ripe tomato.

  Olivia released the catch on the assassin’s pistol, took aim and pulled the trigger. The bullet went through the man’s head, splattering unlucky Riggs with his blood as the assassin fell to the ground.

  “Ugh!” cried Riggs in disgust, wiping what was left of the man’s brains off his face.

  “The other one’s still alive. Tie him up while I free the spymaster.”

  Olivia removed Sebastian’s gag and cut the ropes away with her knife when Riggs threw it to her. “Are you all right, sir?” she asked.

  “Bloody hell! Who are you?” He turned to Riggs. “Where’d you find this bit of baggage?”

  Olivia shook her head at Riggs, to silence him. In a cockney accent, she bent to whisper in Sebastian’s ear. “Oi came from the gutter, sir. Fancy a tuppin’? Send yer friend away from ‘ere, an’ fer a shillin’, oi’ll give yer a gran’ tumble, oi will. Such as ye’ve never ’ad in yer life.”

  She sat back on her heels, put her hands on her thighs, tilted her head and licked her lips in a lewd gesture.

  A slow smile found its way across Sebastian’s face. “Fairchild? That you?”

  Riggs could hold his laughter no longer as he took the knife from Olivia’s hand. He cut away the final rope and helped the spymaster to his feet.

  Sebastian rubbed his chafed wrists together to ease the pain of the rope burns, but could not take his eyes off her. “I fail to see much humor in this, Riggs.”

  Olivia stood stock-still, her hands on her hips, her coquettish eyes meeting his.

  It took a moment, but when the truth dawned, he barked a laugh. “Where did you find those outrageous clothes, Fairchild?” He reached over and wiped a smudge from her cheek with his thumb.

  “Oh, dear. I forgot. I promised to return to the tavern and change back with the lady.” She walked toward the door.

  “No, don’t go.” Sebastian reached for a pound note, turned to Riggs and handed it to him. “Go to the tavern and give the lady this. Tell her to buy herself a new costume.”

  “But why?” asked Olivia in a mystified tone.

  Sebastian grinned. “We’ll keep this one, if you don’t mind. I think we need just such a costume at the home office, you see.
It’s a perfect disguise for undercover operations.” He turned to Riggs and added, “No need to rush back. Take your time. Here’s another pound note. You must be thirsty after fighting so hard. Have a tankard and don’t hurry back.”

  Riggs looked dubious, but an order was an order. He brightened when the reason for the spymaster’s request dawned on him. There were no secrets at Wilson Academy. Everyone knew they were betrothed. “Right, sir. Anything you say, sir.” He turned to Olivia and asked, “How shall I know the woman whose clothes you borrowed?”

  “She’s wearing the boy’s clothing I wore earlier. Tell her she can keep them.”

  “Right, then.” Riggs took his leave, a sly grin etched on his face.

  When he tapped her on the shoulder, Olivia turned to Sebastian with a question in her eyes. “What?”

  He reached into his pocket and came up with a coin. “Here’s a shilling for a tup, ma’am.”

  “In these smelly rags? You’re daft.”

  “Can I help it if those ‘rags’ inspire me? Take a look.”

  Her eyes traveled downward.

  “As you see, my irresistible lightskirt, I cannot control myself when you present such an inviting picture.” He drew her to him in a crushing embrace that spoke volumes.

  “With a dead man in the room?” she protested when he allowed her to come up for air.

  Sebastian’s hands brushed across her breasts and she gasped. “He’s beyond caring.”

  “The other spy might wake up,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

  His hand crept between her legs and she groaned. “If he does, I won’t share you with him. I promise you that.”

  “What if Riggs comes back too soon?”

  He nuzzled her ear and lay her down on the floor. “In that case, we must be quick about it, mustn’t we? But not too quick, my love. Why spoil all our pleasure?”

  Her eyes lit with mischief. “Slow will cost you extra. I have me business t’ think of, you know.”

  He removed all his clothes and let them fall to the floor. “You drive a hard bargain, ma’am. All right. I’ll take four shillings worth.”

  Olivia gurgled a laugh. “Bragging again? Bet you can’t do it twice.”

  In answer, he took off every stitch she wore and added them to his pile. She shivered. “Cold, my love? Let me warm you.” He lay her down on top of the heap on the floor and fell to his knees beside her, his eyes feasting on her body. “Good God, Livy! You’re bloody beautiful.”

  “Hurry, Sebastian. Riggs…”

  “Never mind him.” The back of his hand made a slow journey from her tousled hair to her toes. When she gasped, he settled between her legs.

  “Remember, it’s my shilling. Give me your best, ma’am.” His voice turned hoarse.

  Olivia felt herself to be at peace. She had her Sebastian back. Safe. Sound. In her arms where he belonged.

  Her eyes flew open when he rose to his feet.

  “Why have you stopped? What are you doing?”

  He put a finger to his lips to silence her, reached for a discarded piece of rope, took her hands, tied them together, pulled them over her head and secured the rope to the leg of a chair.

  “Sebastian! What…?”

  “You’ll see,” he said, his breath labored.

  She licked her lips in anticipation. “What are you doing?”

  His crooked grin was answer enough as all thought fled before her primal need.

  “Mmmm. Delicious feast,” he murmured when his tongue found her nub.

  “Untie me, you wretch,” she gasped when she thought she could bear the pain of his exquisite torture no longer.

  “Not on your life.”

  She screamed his name as wave after wave of heat pulsed through her.

  “Ready for me? Tell me you want me,” he demanded.

  “Yes! Oh yes! Please,” she pleaded, and met him thrust for thrust. She felt as if she were drowning in a pool of lust.

  When he reached his climax, his shouts of joy ripped through her like lightning.

  Sebastian lay down by her side, turned her face to his and met her eyes with a smirk of satisfaction.

  “Good God, Livy. I’ll never let you go. Not after this. Never.”

  “Bloody well enjoyed it, did you? All right. Wipe that idiotic grin off your face and hand over another two shillings. A girl has to earn a living, you know.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m bloody well done in, minx.”

  “So soon? I don’t believe it.” Her eyes glanced down at his flaccid sex. “Untie me, seeing as how you’ll need a little help to tup me again like you promised.”

  He reached over her head and pulled the rope to free her hands, but caught them in his before she could do what she threatened.

  “Stop it! What are you trying to do to me, you insatiable lightskirt? Kill me?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  London—Same Day

  By the time Riggs returned, they had adjusted their clothing as if nothing of any import had taken place in his absence.

  “What shall we do with the assassins, sir? There are two more outside,” he asked.

  “Best we leave them where they are. We’ll check to make sure the two outside are tied securely before we leave here.”

  “Where are you taking us, sir?” Olivia’s voice held a hint of suspicion.

  “Are you questioning yet another one of my orders, Fairchild? Can’t you do as I say just this once?” Although he growled, his eyes did a jig at the flush of sex still coloring her face.

  Riggs and Olivia followed the spymaster back toward the docks where they came upon Denville and a good many others, all academy men.

  “Spymaster! Thank God you’re alive. I have half of London out searching for you,” said Denville, relief on his face. “The Bow Street Runners were called in to help in the search. And all the militia stationed in London.”

  “What of the prince, Hugh?”

  “That shot went wide of the mark. He’s safe. He and his envoys were taken to Carlton House. They’re with the Regent as we speak while some of our people are out searching for the assassins.”

  “The assassins have been found, thanks to Fairchild and Riggs. They’re tied up in a building nearby. Send some of our people for them. Riggs will show you the way. When you have the lot, hand them over to the militia for the time being. A decision will be made as to what to do with the three that are still alive. Fairchild shot one of them when she and Riggs rescued me.”

  “Good lad, Riggs! But, where’s Fairchild?”

  Sebastian kept a straight face. “She’s right behind you, my good man.”

  Olivia put her hand on her hip and ogled Denville when he turned to her. In a cockney accent, she said, “You ’is boss? ’E din’t pay me fer me services. Ow’m I sposed to make a livin’ wifout pay? I gave ’im a good one too, I did.”

  His eyes bulged at the sight of this painted, scantily dressed creature. He reached into his britches, pulled out a pound note and thrust it at her.

  “Be on your way, then.”

  Olivia stuck it in her cleavage. “Thankee kindly, sir. Mayhap you fancy one, too? No extra charge.”

  Sebastian let out a shout of laughter at the look of horror on Denville’s face. “You’ve been snookered, my friend. Don’t you know who this lightskirt is? Take a better look.”

  Denville licked his lips as if he were dying of thirst. He wondered what was so humorous as he examined the cheeky lass before him, carefully inspecting her from head to toe. His eyes bulged when the truth dawned on him. “Fairchild?”

  Olivia curtseyed. “What do you think of my disguise, sir? It certainly fooled the assassins, let me tell you.”

  Embarrassed, Denville removed his coat and put it round her shoulders. “You fooled me as well, Fairchild. Where did you get that outrageous outfit? No, better not tell me, for it’s sure to shock me. I won’t even ask you why you’re in London instead of minding the academy as you were ordered to do.” He turned to
Sebastian and added, “By the way, the home secretary wants you to report to his office as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll do so at once, then.” Sebastian turned to Olivia. “Come along, Fairchild.”

  “No, sir. I can’t greet Viscount Sidmouth looking like this. Can you arrange to take me to Fairchild House? My family is in Brighton, but there are always a few servants left behind to care for the property. I’ll bathe and find something more appropriate to wear and meet you at the home office. It won’t take me long.”

  He let out a sigh. “Try for some new conduct and obey my orders, Fairchild.”

  “I won’t face the home secretary in these rags and you can’t make me, sir.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  Olivia gave in. She lowered her eyes and said, “As you wish, sir.”

  Sebastian handed her into the hack Denville had hailed for them and climbed in beside her. When they were under way, he took out a clean cloth and wiped the dirt and the makeup off her face.

  “What are you doing?”

  He kissed her forehead. “I’m trying to clean you up so you’ll feel more presentable, my lusty wench.”

  But she wasn’t amused. “I rather think, you’re trying to make me look ridiculous in the home secretary’s eyes, so he’ll be persuaded to dismiss me.”

  He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “Good God! You’re even more beautiful when you pout. How many times must I tell you? You were made for me.”

  She shoved his hand away and crossed her arms. “I take that to mean you are still determined to get rid of me, spymaster.”

  “No, my love.” He managed to take her in his arms in spite of her struggles. “I have merely decided to assign you a different role. Haven’t you agreed to be my wife?”

  She eyed him with suspicion. “That was before you left me in the lurch at the academy while you went gallivanting off to save the prince. I have no doubt, sir, that your proposal was meant only to turn me away from my determination to become a spy.”

  “The spymaster has been found, sir. He’s on his way here to report to you.”

  “Good news. What about the assassins? Have they been located?”