“Don’t you think I realize that? She’s a persuasive little lady, and I figured she would come to no harm and accomplish her task, as well as help you with yours.”
“Her task?” Michael stood up and rocked back on his heels as he folded his arms in front of his chest.
“To clear her father’s name. It’s her mission.”
“A noble cause, but couldn’t you have assigned someone else do that?” Michael paced.
“We are at war. I have no spare people to work on restoring a deceased man’s reputation.”
“And if the daughter ends up dead, what’s that to you?” Michael prodded dangerously.
Lord Hughes rose to his feet. “I held great admiration for Mr. Shepherd and long believed he was wrongly accused, but lacked evidence. Katrina thought she could find that proof, but she needed your help. Do you think you would have given it? Tidley, she is like a daughter to me. I failed her tonight. You said you changed location? When did you decide that? Why wasn’t I informed?”
“I sent a message to you at Whitehall after six.”
“I was there until eight.”
“So what happened to the missive? If she received that she wouldn’t have walked into danger.”
Lord Hughes strode over the window. “Perchance someone intercepted it?”
Michael strode to stand next to Lord Hughes and glanced at the older man’s reflection. The man had aged ten years in one evening. The lines in his forehead and the grayish cast of his skin and sagging cheeks spoke of many worrisome days and nights. “You really do care about her?”
Lord Hughes met Michael’s gaze reflected in the glass. “Yes.”
Michael moved away from the glass. “How did she come to be a blonde rescuing me from the danger in that pub?”
“The girl has far more courage than is good for her.”
“She killed three men tonight and wounded another. We could have used men like her on the battlefield. I almost wish I’d been able to watch her in action.” Michael’s voice took on a wistful tone.
Lord Hughes smiled. “She told me that everything she knows about fighting, shooting, and swordplay, she learned from you.”
“Guilty as charged. What was I thinking to give in to the whims of a young girl determined to keep up with the big boys?”
“Perhaps you admired her pluck even back then.”
“Maybe.”
“Will you keep me informed as to her progress?”
“Who was she staying with and how do we communicate to that person about her? What do I tell the Westcombes? Phillip is asking uncomfortable questions and wants to inform Lord Remington. I’ve managed to convince him that we should wait.” Michael drained his glass and went to set it down.
“I’ll take care of it in the morning.” Lord Hughes walked over and extended his hand to Michael. “Sir Tidley, I am sorry to have deceived you. It was a lark to be able to trick you for once. But never in my wildest dreams would I have envisioned this.”
Michael shook his hand. “Neither of us are omniscient. I hear only God knows the future.”
“I wonder what He’s up to then if that’s the case.” Lord Hughes’s hand dropped back to his side.
“I need a favor while I’m here.”
“Yes?”
“There is a prisoner and several dead bodies littering my house.”
“I will send someone over to take care of that.”
“Thank you.” Michael yawned. “Good night. I’ll be in contact.”
“Thank you, Michael. And in case I haven’t said it enough, I appreciate your work and couldn’t ask for a better agent. Keep watch over our Mouse, will you?”
“I’ll do the best I can, but that has to be the most impossible task you’ve ever given me.” Michael gave a wry grin and winked at Lord Hughes before he slipped out of the room and made his way back to the Westcombe townhouse.
He sneaked into the house and found Phillip waiting for him in the library.
“How is she?” Michael asked.
“Beth and the doctor are with her. There have been no screams so I will hope that means she has remained unconscious for the surgery.”
Michael nodded. He moved to a chair and sat down, slouched, and put his booted feet up on a table.
Phillip caught his friend’s raised eyebrow.
“I cannot tell you how this all happened. I’m still not sure. I was not aware that Katrina would be there.”
“I don’t know that you ever really explained how you found her like this.”
“You are correct. She got herself in a bad spot, fought, and was shot. But not without taking out a few men first. Our training her with knives and guns came in handy tonight.”
Phillip sat across from him, setting his drink carefully on a side table. He leaned forward. “Are you into some kind of trouble, Michael?”
Michael tipped his head back and shook it. “Not the way you think.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You already have, by caring for Katrina. We cannot tell Marcus about this yet.”
“He’ll be in town in a few short weeks. Surely he will be bound to learn something is up.”
“Then it’s good you don’t know more than you do. Let any recriminations fall on my head, Phillip. If you can keep her safe and out of trouble, I would be grateful.”
“I can keep her safe in the house. We are talking about Katrina. Unless she has changed significantly over the years, the ‘out of trouble’ part I do not think I can promise.” Phillip smiled and shook his head. “I still remember some of the scrapes she got into. It was always you who rescued her even then.”
Michael’s eyes widened momentarily and shut. “I think you may be right, but I thought that was over years ago. We are no longer children and these are not lighthearted games with minimal risk.”
There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Phillip called and stood as his wife entered the room.
Michael rose.
“How is she, Beth?” Phillip asked.
“She lost a lot of blood, but the wound looked clean. We will need to watch her for signs of infection. One of the maids is watching over her.” Beth crossed the room to stand by Phillip’s side, and he put his arm around her waist.
Michael walked over and took Beth’s hand and raised it to his lips. “You are an angel of mercy. Thank you for taking care of Miss Shepherd.” He straightened and turned to leave. “I’ll be back later this morning to check on our patient.”
Phillip drew his wife closer to his body and nodded to their departing guest. “Good night, Michael.”
4
Katrina awoke to agony. She tried to move her left arm, but pain seared through her shoulder. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“You are finally waking up. That’s a good sign,” a soft voice said from the side of the bed.
Katrina discovered an attractive woman with reddish hair and green eyes that twinkled in the morning sunlight streaming in from the nearby window.
“You were shot, Miss Shepherd. Sir Tidley arrived here with you in his arms in the early morning hours. You stayed unconscious through the surgery, which was a blessing for us all. But now you are a guest of my husband, Lord Westcombe, and myself, and must do us the honor of recovering here. My name is Elizabeth.”
“Phillip? I’m in Phillip’s home?” Katrina grew dizzy trying to sort the memories of the previous night and the disconcerting sense of being off balance in the luxury of the beautifully appointed, blue-themed bedroom.
“You are acquainted with my husband?” The redhead's left eyebrow rose and there was a small smile on her face as if she were already aware of the answer.
“We were childhood playmates, my lady. Nothing more I assure you.” Katrina’s heart raced. Would Phillip’s bride believe her?
“You never pursued my handsome husband?” Beth queried.
“No. Never. T’was always Mi…I loved elsewhere.”
“Perhaps Sir Tidley was the
recipient of your affections?”
Katrina’s face grew warm.
“Never fear, my dear Miss Shepherd. Phillip told me of your childhood connection through Lord Remington. I am not threatened by your presence here. It would appear, however, that Sir Michael has been blind to the precious gift that has been his for the taking.”
“I don’t understand.” Katrina leaned her head back further on the pillow and closed her eyes.
“Sir Michael needed to be informed of your identity by Phillip. It came as quite a shock to the man. Now why could a man as observant and witty as Sir Tidley not recognize his childhood friend beneath that disguise? He is in denial of his affection for you.”
“Please, do not tease me, my lady. I am in no mood for such this morning.”
“Perhaps you are ready for tea, toast, and possibly some nutritious broth?” Elizabeth smiled broadly now. “You need to recover from your wound.”
Katrina’s stomach growled. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
After eating and having the doctor check her injury, Katrina was allowed out of bed. Her bruises ached all over, and there were a few surface scratches as well. Her face, thankfully, had not suffered too much from the battle. She sat by the window, wrapped in a borrowed dressing robe of silky royal purple, an imposter in this beautiful home. Her hair was even done by Elizabeth’s maid into a soft and attractive style, although Elizabeth considered it a wasted effort to use curling tongs for an injured woman who would be confined to her sitting room for the day.
A mixture of anticipation and anger surged through her when she thought of Michael. Some of the anger was forced on herself. How’d she been exposed? If she hadn’t been injured, she may have gotten away with it longer. She was not surprised that Phillip recognized her. He was an intelligent and observant man. He probably guessed long ago how much she loved Michael, but ever the gentleman, he never teased or chided her for her infatuation. He treated her with brotherly respect. Even when he came to visit this morning, he showed nothing more than the concern of an older brother.
He assured her that Michael cautioned him not to tell her cousin Marcus yet. How would she explain this without exposing her role in something bigger? How could she justify the risks she took to her virtuous cousin who held firm standards and would have done anything to make a life of comfort for her? He respected her decision to serve as a companion rather than face a season and the whispers that surrounded her about her father. Something about God having a plan that sometimes doesn’t always follow what one expects. She never did understand his faith, but she respected it and admired his sweet wife, Josie.
She probably could have been comfortable in his home and had a good life. But she desired more than that. She wanted answers and to clear her father’s name. She hadn’t bothered to think about what life would be like when and if she accomplished her goal. If? Where had that come from? Of course she would. She needed to. Doubts were not to be part of the equation. Now that Michael knew her identity, would Lord Hughes let her continue? Would Michael try to stop her?
She blushed as she remembered his kisses from a few nights ago, the feel of his arms around her, and her body against his. Even if he’d refused her help, it was worth the risks to have had those few moments of bliss in his arms. He’d never want her for a wife, but for a few minutes, she’d experienced what it was like to be desired as a woman. It wouldn’t happen again. She would never love anyone the way she loved Michael.
She was even pleased that her moniker of Mouse failed to clue him in. People really only saw what they wanted to. Sadness overwhelmed her over how invisible she was to him. Wishes didn’t always come true in real life. If there was a God, she was just as invisible to Him as she was to the man she adored.
She let out a deep sigh and settled against the chair. She winced as her shoulder brushed up against the fabric and adjusted her position so she still caught the view out the window and rested comfortably. Before she realized it, she’d drifted asleep.
~*~
Michael knocked before entering the room. He noticed someone by the window, and he smiled to think that Katrina awaited him. He glanced at her as she slept. Her hair washed free of whatever it was that she used to dull the color, now glimmered with honey highlights illuminated by the sunshine streaming in. It was a soft brown and quite straight normally but somehow today she possessed curls and they framed her features in an attractive way. The heart-shaped face always appeared so small to him. She was still petite, and her face matched her size giving her an appearance of fragility that was far from reality. She’d managed to fend off five men last night and come out the victor. Anger and admiration warred inside him.
What would he say to her? Apologize for not even recognizing her? Did he need to apologize for kissing her so thoroughly the other night? He’d enjoyed the moment nearly too much to regret it. But this was Katrina. Mouse. Childhood friend and playmate. She was not someone to think about romantically. He glanced down at her figure, fully covered but not hidden by the silky purple robe she wore. Her feet were tucked up underneath her. He remembered the feel of those curves. She was not a child anymore, but a woman full grown. Women cried. Women had expectations. He’d need to tread carefully. He possessed the means to support a wife, but his lifestyle wasn’t conducive to marriage and he would never trap her in a loveless union.
He closed the door behind him and cleared his throat. A maid appeared from the other room and came to sit down in the corner to act as a chaperone. He was grateful he would be able to have at least a semi-private conversation. “Katrina?” He crossed the richly textured rug. Reaching her side, he found himself at a loss as to how to approach her.
Her chest rose and fell. Which shoulder did she injure? The bulkiness on the left indicated it was that one. He reached forward to touch her right shoulder and gently brushed his hand against her jaw. Her skin was soft. “Kat? Wake up, please. We need to talk.”
The hazel eyes opened, and her gaze moved up from his waist to his face. “Michael. I was waiting for you.” Her voice was husky, stirring memories of the alley.
“I thought you might be. How do you fare?” He brought another chair close to hers so they could converse quietly without the maid overhearing everything that needed to be said.
“Banged up. My shoulder throbs. I’ve experienced more enjoyable evenings.” She blushed.
He wondered if she was remembering the night she’d rescued him.
“I’m sure you have. I am sorry for what happened. I sent a message through Lord Hughes to give you a different address for our meeting. Given a previous break-in, I thought it would be safer to be elsewhere.” Michael’s elbows were perched on his knees and his hands were clenched together in front of him as he leaned toward her.
“I didn’t receive any letter.”
“I realize that now. Lord Hughes was upset to learn of your injuries. He sends his regards.”
“I failed, didn’t I? He is disappointed in me and has forbidden me to continue on my mission.”
“Your mission? I thought you were helping me with mine?”
“They dovetail.”
“Care to explain?”
“I can’t do that right now.” She glanced past him to the maid who was doing mending in the corner.
“Fair enough.”
They stared at one another.
“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. Twice you tricked me and I’m kicking myself for being so dense.”
“Three times.” She said it so quietly he almost missed it.
“Three?”
“I was the one who passed you the note.”
“At the ball? But I didn’t…how?” Michael’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at her. His voice stayed soft.
“You ran into me, spilling the drink I held.”
“That was you? I’m not normally that clumsy.”
“You weren’t clumsy, Michael. I deliberately stepped into your path and spilled the wine on you. It was the easiest way
to get the note into your pocket.” She glanced away from him toward the window. She grew pale and there were dark shadows under her eyes.
“My valet may never forgive you for that. He said those pantaloons needed to be destroyed.” Michael smiled.
“I can reimburse you out of my pin money if that will make him happy.” Her tone was flat and she continued to give him her profile in shadow.
“There is no need. I can absorb the loss.” He paused. “I could not tolerate losing you, however. How would I explain that to Lord Remington? Even now, at some point he will learn you were shot, that I’m somehow involved, and there will be hell to pay.” His voice caught.
“Lord Hughes will keep you out of it. Bringing me here, having Phillip recognize me. That’s where things went wrong. I apologize for jeopardizing your relationship with Marcus. I understand how important his friendship is to you.” She leaned forward slightly to touch his arm with her right hand. She gave it a squeeze and sat back wincing.
“I don’t think you do, Mouse.” He shook his head and lowered it. “I would do almost anything for that man.”
~*~
“I understand.” Katrina glanced out the window as an uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Outside the carriages drove by, the birds sang, and it was a beautiful day. Here in her sitting room, loneliness pulsed. He only cared about Marcus. She only caused discomfort for that. If she died, he wouldn’t miss her. The pain of those thoughts hurt her heart worse than the physical ache in her shoulder. “I can still help you with the deciphering if you will let me,” Katrina offered.
“That’ll be up to Lord Hughes. If you possess a key, I can take it and give it a try. The code is unusual. I don’t understand how you would have what is needed for this one.” He held a hand up. “Don’t explain. The less I know the better.”
“We are running out of time. I insist you let me help you,” Katrina implored softly.
Michael laughed. “You can’t lift your arm. You need to heal. What is it you think you can do?”
Anger welled up Katrina. “Apparently, I can fool one of the best agents out there. I can save his life and fend off attackers and live to tell about it.” And I can hide the fact that I love you.
Sir Michael's Mayhem Page 4