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

by Jeane, Sheridan

  He took the proffered clothing and quickly slipped everything on over his own black jacket and trousers.

  When he turned back to face the sisters, he saw that they’d pinned caps atop their heads and had donned aprons. They looked exactly like members of the hotel staff. It was uncanny.

  “The exit is here,” Cecilia said.

  Evangeline began giving instructions in a staccato tempo. “Remember to look tired and bored. Don’t glance around to see if anyone is watching, or you’ll give us away. Focus on each other, not on the police. If we’re stopped, complain that we were kept late because of the theft. In fact,” she said, obviously warming to an idea, “ask for details. Nothing will get the police to shoo us along faster than having us nose into their business. Devin, if they ask what we do at the hotel, tell them that you work in the laundry and Cecilia and I are chambermaids.” She glanced at his attire. “With what we’re wearing, our jobs should be fairly obvious.”

  Devin nodded.

  “And get rid of the upper-class accent.”

  “’Oi can manage ‘at,” Devin said.

  Evangeline looked at him blankly for a moment and then grinned. “Perfect.”

  They were outside on Davies Street a moment later.

  “Stop,” a policeman called out before they’d even gone five paces.

  A surge of energy rose in Devin, making him want to confront the man, but he forced himself to stand still and remain submissive. It went against his every instinct, but in this instance he knew fighting or running would be the worst choices possible.

  “Were you cleared to leave?” the policeman asked.

  “Are ye searchin’ fer the thief?” Evangeline asked. Her eyes widened and she stepped closer to the policeman. “We 'eard all aboyt it, didn't we?” she asked, glancing at Devin and Cecilia.

  “If that guard doesn’t wake up soon, we’ll be calling him a murderer,” the policeman muttered under his breath.

  They nodded. “Oi 'eard yer man was some rich bloke,” Devin added. “An' yer let 'imself slip through yer fingers.” He let out an obnoxious snort of laughter.

  The policeman’s face reddened. “Just get yourselves on home. Don’t be loitering on the streets or I’ll arrest ya.”

  “For waaat? Doin' waaat yer tol’ us ter ?” Evangeline asked. “Yer said stop, we stopped.”

  “Now I’m telling you to go, so go.” The policeman reached back and placed his hand on his club.

  “Naw nade ter git cheesed off. We're goin',” Evangeline said.

  Devin took each of the sisters by the arm and hurried them down the street. “That was perfect,” he muttered to Evangeline.

  “I never knew you could speak with an Irish accent,” Cecilia said, sounding surprised. “You’re quite good at it.”

  “One picks things up,” he replied. “I had a roommate at school with an amazing talent for accents. That Irish one was his favorite.” As he took the corner at the end of the street, he glanced back and saw that the policeman was still watching them. But he wasn’t following.

  “We need to find a carriage,” Devin said.

  “We can find one just up the street at the next hotel,” Cecilia said. “We don’t want that policeman to see us hailing one.”

  A few minutes later, they found themselves contemplating a cab built for two, not three.

  Evangeline sat down first. “I’m sure you can both squeeze in,” she said. She covered her mouth, but not before Devin caught a glimpse of a wicked smile. The little minx.

  With a sigh, Devin climbed inside and then held out his arms for Cecilia.

  Even in the dim lamplight, her deep blush was obvious as she climbed into the cab and onto his lap.

  She tried to find a comfortable spot and finally positioned herself sideways on his lap, facing her sister, with her legs nestled between his thighs.

  Devin’s mind turned in a decidedly ungentlemanly direction as he considered what might happen if she were to move the hand braced against the inside of his knee up…but then she moved it, resting it on her lap.

  As the horses pulled away, she rocked forward, and he pulled her closer so she wouldn’t slip from his lap. She tensed, her entire body going rigid.

  “We need a plan,” Evangeline said. “Confronting LeCompte could be dangerous.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Devin murmured. It was good to have something else to think about other than Cecilia’s bottom pressed against his lap. Most decidedly.

  “We can’t very well stop at a shop and buy a pistol. They’re all closed,” Evangeline said.

  “And I can’t stop at my townhouse either,” Devin said. “The police are bound to be watching it.”

  “We can’t walk into his home unarmed,” Evangeline said.

  Devin remained silent for a moment, and then an idea struck him. “Driver,” he called out. “Take us to the Ambridge Club first, and then on to our original destination.”

  “Yes, sir,” the driver called back. He immediately turned onto a side street.

  “Why are we going there?” Cecilia asked. “What if someone recognizes you? There’s a manhunt for you.”

  “I’ll have to take that chance. But I shouldn’t be in any danger unless I run into someone from the ball. News travels fast, yes, but I didn’t see any other Ambridge Club members at Mivart’s Hotel. And besides, I don’t plan to go any farther than the cloakroom.”

  The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the Ambridge Club. Cecilia and Devin both stepped onto the pavement. Devin pulled off the workman’s coat and handed it to Cecilia, and then he balanced against the side of the hansom cab as he shed the rough garb that covered his elegant black trousers.

  Handing them to Cecilia, he said, “Wait in the carriage. I’d rather not have anyone notice you standing in front of the club. I shouldn’t be gone more than five minutes.”

  He turned and trotted up the stairs to the entrance, trying to look as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

  The attendant glanced up as Devin approached the desk. “Good evening, Mr. Montlake,” the man intoned.

  “Good evening,” Devin replied. “I seem to have left my hat and cane in your cloakroom.”

  The man looked slightly taken aback. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. Someone should have brought them to you before you left the premises. Would you like me to send someone to collect them for you?”

  “No,” he said, a little too quickly. “I left abruptly. The club isn’t at fault. If you’ll excuse me, I’d prefer to take care of this myself. I’m in a bit of a hurry, and this will only take a moment.” He moved past the man toward the cloakroom.

  The attendant looked relieved to learn that the club wouldn’t be held accountable. Devin felt guilty that he was about to abuse the man’s good nature.

  He glanced inside the room and quickly identified the item he was searching for. He plucked the silver-handled cane from the tall umbrella stand and made sure it was the one he wanted. Yes, indeed.

  He glanced regretfully at the hats on the rack. A man might believe that he’d mislaid his cane and left it at home, but he’d never go to his club without wearing his hat. The theft of one from the cloakroom would be noticed as soon as its owner left for the evening. Devin decided to forgo taking one.

  Fortunately, the attendant wasn’t at the desk when he left.

  Just before he stepped out the door, he checked the cane one more time. He released the small spring latch integrated into the silver handle, gave a twist to the cane, and then pulled. A length of steel emerged.

  This was a fine sword. He was ready to confront LeCompte.

  6 - The Frenchman

  From her perch inside the hansom cab, Cecilia kept careful watch on the doors of the Ambridge Club. When she finally spied Devin trotting down the steps, she relaxed her grip on the edge of the seat. Five minutes had never felt so long. “There he is,” she said to her sister.

  As Cecilia watched him, Evangeline prodded her in the ribs. “Get
out so he can get in.”

  With a start of embarrassment, Cecilia clambered out of the carriage so Devin could enter it first. A moment later, she was back on his lap and the carriage was pulling away.

  Cecilia glanced down at the cane he held. “Why was that so important?”

  “We needed a weapon,” he replied.

  “Do you plan to hit him with the cane?” she asked.

  Devin grinned. “A few of the gentlemen at my club have taken to carrying canes that contain concealed items. Hidden swords are quite popular.”

  She glanced back down at it in surprise. “I had no idea. Is a sword-cane commonplace?”

  Devin shrugged. “They aren’t uncommon. I’ve also seen canes with hidden knives or guns. I even saw one that concealed a whiskey flask.”

  Evangeline grimaced. “I’ll never look at a gentleman’s cane the same way again. To think I looked down on the men who carried them because I believed they were an affectation. It just proves that people aren’t to be trusted.”

  “Or it proves that gentlemen prefer to be armed when they go out,” Cecilia said. “The world is not a safe place.”

  They moved along at a good pace, but Cecilia noticed a few delivery wagons beginning to make their morning rounds. They passed a cart filled with milk jugs she assumed would soon be left at nearby homes.

  “It will be morning soon,” she said. “The night has flown by.”

  “Are you tired?” Devin asked.

  Cecilia shifted her weight on his lap, taking note of the tightness in her back. She’d been wearing her corset since yesterday morning, and it was beginning to feel like some medieval torture device. “I can tolerate a lack of sleep if it means clearing your name.”

  He tightened the arm he’d draped around her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. “You know you don’t need to come with me,” he said. But she could tell he liked having her there by the way he held her close.

  “It should come as no surprise. If the situation were reversed, you’d be loyal to me as well.”

  The muscle along Devin’s jaw tightened. “Of course I would,” he said. “Once we have this resolved, I hope that neither of us is ever tested in such a way again.” He gazed at her, their faces only inches apart. “You mean everything to me.” His words came out as a whisper and felt like a benediction.

  Cecilia leaned closer to him, a smile spreading across her face. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Evangeline asked in an overly loud voice, “How did you know where M LeCompte lives?”

  Devin jerked his head back, bumping it against the rear of the carriage. “He consulted me regarding some legal work,” Devin said. “It was nothing significant. Just a minor claim regarding some property.”

  Cecilia briefly considered kicking her sister in retaliation for the interruption, but decided against it. Instead, she focused her attention on Devin. “I didn’t realize you knew the Frenchman so well.”

  “I wouldn’t say I know him well. He hasn’t been in England long enough for anyone to make that claim. At the time I assumed he’d asked for my legal assistance because he didn’t know anyone else to approach.”

  Evangeline nodded sagely. “He probably had you do the work so he could learn more about you.”

  “I’m beginning to think the same thing. Drawing up the papers was a simple matter that I passed off to a friend who is a solicitor. As a barrister, it wasn’t the type of work I’d normally be involved with, but LeCompte insisted he’d only deal with me. Initially, he said he wanted my help because he was certain the case would need to be argued in court. I agreed as a favor to him, but after our initial discussion, I recommended a simpler course of action.”

  “What was that?” Cecilia asked.

  Devin paused for a moment. “I don’t think I can say anything more without breaching his privacy.”

  “But he’s a thief!” Evangeline said. “I would think he’s lost any claim to privacy.”

  “We don’t know that for certain,” Cecilia said. “I still don’t believe he’s capable of assaulting someone, let alone stealing Mother’s jewels.”

  “Maybe he was surprised by the guard. It might have been an accident,” Evangeline said, obviously trying to placate Cecilia. “What if he was in the middle of stealing the jewels and the guard interrupted him? Anyone caught red-handed might lash out.”

  “But I also don’t believe he’s a thief,” Cecilia said. “Why can’t I convince you that LeCompte isn’t that sort of man? He might be hiding something, but I can tell he’s fundamentally an honorable man. It isn’t in his character to steal.” Cecilia let out a sigh. “At the very least, please don’t confront him as though you believe he’s the thief.”

  “That’s ludicrous,” Evangeline said. “What if LeCompte shoots him?”

  Cecilia’s jaw dropped. “Evangeline! I can’t believe you think he’d do such a thing.” She stiffened her spine and sat up a bit straighter. “But since you’re both certain he’s a criminal, the three of us should speak to him together. Even if he’s as evil as you both seem to think he is, he can’t very well kill us all. We can tell our coachman that if he suspects any foul play, he should summon the police immediately.” She gave her sister a disapproving look. “Honestly, I think you’re being ridiculous.”

  Evangeline crossed her arms. “In that case, why did you come with us?”

  “Because I care about you. Both of you. I want to help.” She pressed her hand against Devin’s where it rested on her waist. “But also because even though I don’t believe M LeCompte is a thief, I believe you saw him there. I want to know why he was in that part of the hotel. Perhaps he knows something that could help us.”

  “You’re wrong about LeCompte,” Evangeline said. “But I’m glad you’re with us.”

  Devin remained quiet during their conversation, but he spoke up now. “I don’t want you there when I confront LeCompte. I couldn’t bear it if either of you were injured.”

  “It isn’t your decision,” Cecilia said, “it’s mine. And I’m coming with you. I insist.”

  “Me, too,” Evangeline said.

  Every inch of Devin’s body that was in contact with her tensed. “And if I forbid it?” he asked.

  “Forbid it? Don’t be tedious, Devin. You know I’ll win this argument.” She shot him a beguiling smile.

  “We’re both coming,” Evangeline said. “We’re Paring women. We know our own minds, and not even our husbands can order us about.”

  Cecilia met Evangeline’s gaze. “That’s right. Before all else, we’re Paring women and nothing, not even marriage, can ever change that fact.”

  Devin let out a loud groan. “Is this what I’ll face as your husband? Will you ignore all my requests?”

  “Of course not,” Cecilia said primly. “Only the ones that make no sense.”

  “Fine,” he said. His voice sounded strained. “You can come inside with me. But when we face LeCompte, I insist that you both stay behind me and out of his reach.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Cecilia said.

  “I refuse to compromise on this point. What if he grabbed you and threatened to hurt you to force me to comply?” He gazed intently at her, as though trying to communicate how important this was to him. “Please, Cecilia. I couldn’t bear to see you harmed.”

  Cecilia could see the fear in his eyes. What if she was wrong? What if LeCompte had attacked that man? Was she willing to gamble everything on her intuition? Of course not. “All right. I’ll stay behind you.”

  His smile of relief erased some of the tension on his face, but she could tell he was still worried.

  A moment later, the carriage pulled to a halt in front of a brick townhouse with a bright blue door. “We’re here,” Devin said.

  As they all climbed out, Devin gave the coachman explicit instructions to wait for them and to call for the police if he suspected they might be in danger.

  Cecilia focused her gaze on the brass turnkey-style door chime mounted in the center
of LeCompte’s front door. Devin reached out and gave it a quick twist, causing a flurry of bells to sound.

  That should wake everyone in the house.

  They didn’t have long to wait before the butler came to the door. He gave them an irritated look. “Monsieur LeCompte is not currently accepting visitors. If you’d like to leave a card, I’ll let him know you called.”

  “I’m afraid I must insist,” Devin said. “This is a matter of some urgency.”

  The butler stood there for a moment, obviously trying to decide whether he should wake his master or send them packing. Finally, he opened the door far enough for them to enter, and with a frown, he waved them inside.

  He led them into the sitting room just off the foyer, used a taper he lit from his candle to ignite the gas wall sconces and then left, presumably to deliver Devin’s calling card.

  Even in Cecilia’s exhausted state, she noticed that every detail in the room was perfect, including the oil painting of a French park, the gilt-framed mirrors, and the elaborate arrangement of purple and cream flowers on the side table. Despite the perfection of the ecru room, or perhaps because of it, the decor revealed little about the owner. There were no books or any items that might have personal significance. There were no mementos, no portraits—in fact, there was nothing that gave her an insight into M LeCompte.

  Exhaustion was etched into every line of Devin’s face, but so was his determination. Evangeline, on the other hand, was busily exploring every corner of the drawing room. The girl seemed to have a limitless supply of energy.

  Cecilia heard the drawing room door open and whirled to face it. LeCompte stood framed in the opening dressed only in trousers, a partially unbuttoned white shirt, and a glower of intense displeasure.

  “You have exactly two minutes to tell me why you’re here, or my servants will summon the police,” LeCompte said.

  Right now, LeCompte didn’t look like the supercilious man Cecilia had come to know over the past few weeks. Anger swept away his veil of pretense, and she could see the keen intelligence she’d always suspected.