It Takes a Spy...: A Secrets and Seduction book

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It Takes a Spy...: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 1

by Jeane, Sheridan




  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgement

  1 - The Pot Calling the Kettle Black

  2 - Watching the Watchers

  3 - That's My Necklace!

  4 - Of Ledges and Traveling Trunks

  5 - Evangeline Hatches a Plan

  6 - The Frenchman

  7 - Intuition and Logic

  8 - Making Plans

  9 - A Bit of Coercion

  10 - Create a Solution

  11 - In the Nick of Time

  12 - Wedding Day

  13 - Wedding Night

  If You Enjoyed This Book

  Gambling on a Scoundrel

  About the Author

  It Takes a

  Spy…

  A novel by

  Sheridan Jeane

  Other Books by Sheridan Jeane

  Gambling on a Scoundrel

  Books in the Secrets and Seduction Series

  It Takes a Spy (this book)

  Lady Catherine’s Secret

  Once Upon a Spy

  My Lady, My Spy (2016)

  A Flowers and Fullerton Book / published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright 2014 by Sheridan Edmondson

  Cover Design by Earthly Charms

  ISBN:978-1-63303-003-9

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance it bears to reality is entirely coincidental.

  Produced by Sheridan Jeane

  at Flowers and Fullerton, LLC

  Cleveland, OH

  [email protected]

  SheridanJeane.com

  To my wonderful family.

  I owe my success to your unwavering support.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I want to thank my husband and our children for their help, their support, and their understanding. I couldn't have done this without you.

  In addition, I want to thank Christy Carlson, Sheila Larkin, and the members of the Sunshine Critique Group for everything they did to help make this book a reality and Amanda Sumner for her careful copyediting.

  I want to thank Ann Marie Stone and Audrey Iacone for their awesome proofreading skills.

  Lastly, I want to acknowledge my dear friend Anya Creaser.

  If not for her help in researching Cannes in 1850, I would have made a monumental error in writing this novel.

  1 - The Pot Calling the Kettle Black

  Mivart’s Hotel, London, September 1851

  A sister who liked to spy on people could be unbelievably irksome.

  Cecilia Paring glanced up from fastening her leather dancing boots and caught her fifteen-year-old sister, Evangeline, peering at her.

  Evangeline quickly glanced away, hiding her interest, but the pinched expression she wore made Cecilia feel as though Evangeline had been examining her for flaws.

  “Can’t you content yourself with spying on the guests instead of me? Mivart’s Hotel has plenty of spots where you can conceal yourself and watch the evening unfold.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. After all, she knew exactly what it was like to be excluded from a ball. She’d been in the same position only a year ago.

  Evangeline rolled her eyes in a way only an adolescent would. “Do be sensible. What makes you think you’re worth spying on? Besides, this is my room, too.” She stewed for a moment.

  Cecilia instinctively knew Evangeline had something more to say. Three, two, one…

  “And I feel compelled to point out,” Evangeline continued, “that accusing me of being a spy is like the pot calling the kettle black. You’re the one who first showed me the best way to sneak around our house undetected.”

  Cecilia remembered crouching on the balcony above the entryway next to her sister as they watched Mother and Father’s guests arrive for one of the many events that used to take place in their elegant London mansion. She’d loved seeing each gown revealed as the women shed their cloaks. Unfortunately, both the mansion and the country estate had been entailed and upon their father’s eventual demise it would pass to a distant male cousin. For want of a son, their home was lost.

  “You’ve far surpassed me as a spy,” Cecilia said, grinning at her sister. “I plan to try to catch you out tonight. After all, ‘it takes a thief to catch a thief,’ or in our case, it takes a spy to know a spy. But I doubt I’ll spot you. You’re one of the best spies I’ve ever seen.”

  Evangeline cocked an eyebrow in disdain. “Well, if you saw them, then they weren’t very good, were they?”

  Cecilia chuckled. “Good point.” She sat down to face the mirror above the dressing table so she could return to preparing for the evening’s ball.

  She needed to do something with her hair. Mother’s lady’s maid would have been extremely helpful just now, but Mother needed her at the moment. Cecilia could manage.

  “I can help you with that.” Evangeline was still watching her.

  “I’m sure I can do it.” Cecilia brushed and pinned her hair, but after a few minutes, she sighed at her reflection. Her hair was a disaster, and the glittering necklace she wore of square-cut rubies rimmed with diamonds made it look laughable in contrast. Her head looked lopsided, and she could tell that as soon as she stepped onto the dance floor, the entire mess would come tumbling down.

  “Will you let me help you now?” Evangeline asked. “I can hardly do worse.”

  Cecilia grimaced. Evangeline was right. “Go ahead. It has to be an improvement over this fright.”

  As Evangeline crossed the room to the dressing table, she paused to open the doors leading out to the tiny balcony. A cool breeze swept into the room and caused Evangeline’s pale-green hoopskirts to sway. She looked quite fetching tonight, and she’d managed to arrange her own light-brown hair in a simple style. Cecilia knew Evangeline thought her nose was too long, but Cecilia had always believed it made her sister look elegant. She’d been a pretty child, but at fifteen, it was obvious that she would become a lovely woman. Much to both sisters’ irritation, Mother had the habit of describing Evangeline as being a paler, younger version of Cecilia.

  Evangeline stepped behind her and then deftly plucked the hairpins from Cecilia’s tresses, placing them all on the dressing table. She gently brushed out Cecilia’s mass of medium-brown hair.

  “Your hair is much thicker than mine,” Evangeline murmured. Her features wore a look of intense concentration. She pulled a lock of hair from Cecilia’s eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “That’s probably why those hairpins looked as if they were about to fall out.”

  Cecilia watched her sister’s movements in the mirror as Evangeline deftly made a neat bun at the back of Cecilia’s neck and then pulled a few curls free so that they framed her heart-shaped face.

  Evangeline firmly secured the hairpins in place and said, “You know, if you place a second hairpin over the first one to form an ‘x,’ the two hairpins will stay locked in place.” She patted the bun with a satisfied nod. “There. That should stay put.”

  A tight-chested sigh escaped from Cecilia. “Thank you.” She’d need to remember how to do that hairpin trick with the ‘x.’

  “Cece, what’s wrong?” Evangeline asked, using a pet-name she hadn’t trotted out in months. “I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

  Cecilia let out a surprised snort as she turned to face her sister. “What’s wrong
? Let’s see…” She tapped her finger against her lower lip as she made a show of intense concentration. “Tonight I’m attending a ball where I’m supposed to help convince everyone that our family isn’t really low on funds and that we’re quite happy with all the changes we’re about to make to our lives. Then tomorrow I’m obliged to attend an auction where we’ll be selling off all Mother’s jewelry to the highest bidder.” She touched the necklace she wore. It would soon be gone. “Father made certain that everyone knows the proceeds will be used to fund our dowries. He isn’t mentioning that he also plans to use the money to pay for all that property he purchased in Cannes. It galls me that he plans to use us to play on people’s sympathies. It’s humiliating.”

  “You must admit, it will probably work.”

  “Not you, too! How could you approve of that sort of behavior?”

  “Because it will fund my dowry as well. I’m only being practical.”

  “Turncoat. Maybe it’s good that you’re all moving to the south of France as soon as I’m married. You can deal with Father’s wild schemes and finally leave me out of it. I can’t wait to be alone.” She clasped her hands together and pressed them against her lap. As she listed her problems, she realized it was the last one that troubled her most. Losing her family. “You know I didn’t mean that. I’ll miss you.”

  “You won’t be alone. You’ll have Devin.” Evangeline shot her a reproachful look in the mirror. “How could you forget about him? Hasn’t it been your dream to marry him for years?” Sometimes Evangeline sounded more like Cecilia’s older sister than her younger one. It could be quite irritating.

  Cecilia looked down at her hands, now folded primly in her lap. “Nothing seems to take the romance out of a romance the way marriage does. Honestly, I was much happier pining away for Devin and dreaming about him. Now that he’s about to become my husband, I find that I’m petrified at the prospect.”

  “Don’t be foolish.”

  “Haven’t you noticed how much he’s changed?” She glanced out the window at the darkening sky. She’d need to go down to the ball soon. “Being away at university did something to him. I’m shocked that he still wants to marry me.” She shifted uncomfortably on her stool. “I think he regrets making the offer.”

  “Of course he still wants to marry you.” Evangeline stared at her in astonishment. “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “Now you’re the one being foolish. Don’t you realize I’m not the right kind of wife for him? He’s self-contained and orderly, where I’m disorganized and spontaneous.” She waved her arm toward the dresses piled on one of the beds. “Just look at the mess in here. How can I expect him to tolerate such chaos?”

  “Now really, Cecilia. That’s going too far. If Mother’s lady’s maid hadn’t been needed elsewhere, the room wouldn’t be in such a state.” Still, Evangeline frowned at the mess. “Our financial situation will improve tremendously once the auction is over. We’ll be wealthy and will be able to afford a second lady’s maid. Even an entire army of lady’s maids.” She let out a deep sigh. “I suppose Devin will adapt to your rather careless manner. After all, I did.”

  “Will he?” Cecilia stood up, plucked one of her discarded dresses off the bed, and hung it in one of the wardrobes, shoving her other dresses aside haphazardly. “He isn’t the type of man to lower his standards. He expects me to raise mine and conform to what society expects a barrister’s wife to be. And I’m trying. Truly I am. Did I tell you he wants me to take comportment lessons?”

  “What?” Evangeline’s look of outrage made Cecilia feel better. “But I thought he loved you…why would he want to change you?” Evangeline looked genuinely worried.

  “Why indeed?”

  “I know he’s always been a bit stiff-necked. It’s just his way. As I recall, his parents are exactly the same, aren’t they?”

  “They’re even worse. Maybe I’ll be lucky and tomorrow’s auction will be a failure and Devin will break our engagement.”

  “Don’t even say such a thing,” Evangeline scolded. “You’ll bring us bad luck.” Then she pulled at her bottom lip with her thumb and forefinger as she lowered her brows. “Do you really think Devin would do something so low as to throw you over?”

  “No, of course not,” Cecilia said, brushing the question away with a casual wave of her hand. “It was just a bit of wishful thinking. He can’t back out. That would be breach of promise. He can’t afford to have a black mark like that against his name. Just think of the damage it could do to his career. He wants to become a judge. Did I tell you that?”

  Evangeline plopped onto the edge of the bed. “Then I suppose you’ll need to take those comportment lessons.”

  The knot of tension in Cecilia’s chest tightened. “I suppose you’re right, which is why Devin thought of it.”

  “Of course I’m right. I might be the youngest person in our family, but I’m also the most sensible one.”

  §

  As Cecilia’s parents escorted her to the ballroom, she noticed a flash of pale green fabric disappearing through a doorway leading outside to the elegant Mivart Hotel’s gardens. She immediately recognized Evangeline’s dress. She hadn’t really thought she’d catch sight of her sister tonight. She was a little disappointed to spot her so easily.

  At least Evangeline would have an excellent view of the ball from the gardens. And if she became bored with what was happening inside the hotel, she could always take a moonlit stroll. Father had arranged for a refreshments table to be set up outside to encourage people to wander through the torchlit gardens. Evangeline should enjoy London now, while she still could. After all, it wouldn’t be long before Father whisked her away to a small town nestled along the southern coast of France for the sake of Mother’s health.

  Cecilia felt her resentment melt away. Mother needed to live in a more temperate climate where the air was clean. The dampness and soot of London were terrible for her. The doctors said she’d improve if she moved to Cannes, and Cecilia clung to their assurances. They had to be right. They simply had to.

  “Montlake said he planned to arrive early,” Father said. “Watch for him once we enter the ballroom. He’s saving us some chairs so your mother won’t have to stand.”

  “Stop fussing,” Mother protested. “I’m perfectly capable of standing.” The topaz necklace she wore was accented with small, bright citrine gemstones, their golden-orange brilliance a stark contrast to her mother’s dwindling vitality. Seeing it on her now sent a pang of loss through Cecilia, not because it would be auctioned tomorrow, but because she could so clearly remember how vibrant and lovely her mother had once looked when wearing it. She’d once possessed a fire that outshone even the brightest of her jewels. But not anymore.

  Cecilia and her father exchanged dubious glances, and then she squeezed her mother’s arm. “Of course you are. No one will make you sit if you don’t want to.”

  “Now you’re being patronizing,” her mother grumbled, and then she took in a deep breath. “But I appreciate your concern. At least you aren’t trying to tell me what I can and cannot do.” She patted Cecilia’s hand.

  Mother seemed to have a bit more energy this evening. Cecilia hoped it would be enough to carry her through the night.

  As they neared the entrance to the ballroom, a tall, dark-haired man stepped away from the paneled wall and strode toward them. A tingle of pleasure washed through Cecilia as she recognized her fiancé, Devin Montlake. He always had that effect on her. She drank in his distinctive profile with its strong jawline and full lips. She’d always been acutely aware of Devin, even when she was a young girl. Despite their differences…their many, many differences…something about Devin had always enticed her, as cheese tempted a mouse, and when he’d asked for her hand in marriage last year, she’d never even considered rejecting him. At least…not until later.

  It was only recently that she’d finally come to the realization that they simply didn’t make sense as a couple.

  “Good even
ing, Lord Babbage,” Devin said, pinning his gaze on her father.

  “Montlake. What are you doing out here?” Father asked, surprise evident in his tone. “I thought you were holding chairs for us.”

  “I have everything in hand,” Devin replied, unaffected by the brusque words. He looked crisp and capable in his black cutaway coat and starched white shirt. Even his sideburns were impeccably groomed. “My friend Leeland Raven is already in the ballroom and is holding five of the best seats available. They’re close enough to the refreshments table to be convenient, but not so close as to cause us to be buried in a crush of people. They’ll provide us with an excellent view of the dance floor.” He was quite logical and capable, as usual.

  Why was it that even now, when she realized they were so terribly ill-suited for one another, she still felt this tug of attraction?

  Cecilia glanced away from Devin as she plucked restlessly at her mesh gloves. They weren’t really traditional evening wear, but Cecilia always liked to add her own bit of flair to everything she did. It had been so warm all day that she’d decided to take a chance and eschew the heavier kid leather ones in favor of this open-weave cotton pair, but now it seemed almost decadent to be able to see her skin through the diamond weave of the mesh. But that was silly, wasn’t it? After all, her shoulders were bare for the world to see, so why should a glimpse of her hand make her feel so self-conscious?

  And then Cecilia realized that her self-doubt came from being so close to Devin. Now she constantly questioned herself. All because he wanted her to take comportment lessons.

  This man would drive her mad. One moment she was noticing how incredibly handsome he was, and the next moment she was resenting the way he was trying to take over her life.

  And he was handsome. She’d always thought so. Simply having him stand so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body made her want to edge closer to him. That was wanton of her, wasn’t it? She glanced up at him, and just as quickly, she glanced away. Even now, she had to force herself not to reach up and tuck the errant curl of hair behind his ear. He would not approve of that. She was certain of it.

 

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