The Spy's Revenge

by Nadine Millard

  Jonathan laughed at his friend’s arrogance.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. I could best you with my eyes closed.”

  “You forget I’ve just witnessed your disgraceful display with Gabby,” Andrew countered.

  “And you forget,” Jonathan answered with a feral grin, “I wouldn’t want to hurt her, even accidentally. But your pretty face could do with some character.”

  It was Andrew’s turn to grin as he nodded his head then moved away to take his stance.

  Evelyn rolled her eyes.

  “Men,” she sighed to Gabby, though loud enough for them to hear. “Any opportunity to play with their swords.”

  Gabby giggled at Evelyn’s words, eyeing Jonathan’s weapon and raising a brow.

  “Well, I hope he does better with Andrew than he did with me. I must confess myself singularly unimpressed with his sword.”

  Jonathan had to quash his grin at her sassiness. She was a minx, always had been. And every day she was becoming more herself of old, which generally meant more trouble.

  “Come, Gabby. We need to leave before this escalates further. And I should like to be back to give William his bath. I’ve already called for the carriage.”

  Jonathan was suddenly overwhelmed with fear for their safety.

  “You are bringing a footman? One who has been in service for a long time?”

  It was Gabby’s turn to roll her eyes.

  “Yes, Jon. We are bringing a footman. We shall be fine.”

  Jonathan reached out and cupped her face, rubbing his thumb along her smooth cheek.

  He felt rather smug at her shiver.

  “Just be careful, hmm?”

  She nodded her head in answer then darted her tongue out to wet her lips, and his knees damn near buckled at the action.

  He placed a quick but firm kiss on her mouth then stepped away before his emotions could carry him away.

  The ladies hurried off toward the front of the house, Gabby twisting her hair back up into a knot while she went.

  Jonathan stared after them until a hand clamped to his shoulder distracted him.

  “Don’t worry, Jon,” Andrew said. “If I thought there was any chance of danger, I would be accompanying them. But Piers has, as you know, gotten rid of all relatively new staff, and sent word to headquarters looking for Townsend. They’ll be perfectly safe.”

  Jonathan sighed, unable to shake the feeling that he should be going with her.

  “I know. You’re probably right. Piers is adamant that the rest of his staff can be trusted. And nobody is smart enough to fool him.”

  “True,” Andrew conceded.

  “Although,” Jonathan continued, remembering his conversation with the older man from when he’d first arrived, “apparently he was completely taken in years ago by a woman who stole his heart then cuckolded him.”

  “Piers?” Andrew asked in shock.

  “I know. I couldn’t believe it either. It appears the man has a weakness after all. Or had, in any case.”

  “You must tell me more.” Andrew stepped closer, and Jonathan was suddenly reminded of his mother and her cronies with their gossiping ways.

  “All right,” he said, “why don’t we go and get a drink, and I’ll give you all the details. But if the ladies ask,” he continued firmly, “we sparred for hours, in a terribly masculine way. And I won.”

  Andrew scoffed. “They’ll never believe that,” he answered, though Jonathan had beaten him more than once in the past.

  “Fine.” Jonathan shrugged. “Then I won’t tell you.”

  Andrew eyed him for a moment before heaving a sigh.

  “Fine,” he conceded. “You win. Now, tell me, when did all this occur?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I DON’T THINK we could possibly fit any more in, Evelyn.” Gabrielle laughed as they finally left the milliner’s, their arms and the arms of the poor footman filled with boxes.

  “Well, I think we have enough to get us to London and for the first week or so. After that, the London seamstress should have things ready for you if we visit as soon as we arrive.”

  “What?” Gabby gasped. “We have to do this again?”

  Evelyn sighed and shook her head sympathetically, handing her boxes to the coachman then taking Gabby’s to do the same.

  “My dear,” she said slowly as though speaking to a young child, “this is the minimum of what you need. The Season is all about pomp and glory. You will need more satin than you can possibly imagine. More feathers, jewels, fans, gowns, bonnets, gloves, slippers—”

  “All right, all right.” Gabby held up her hands in mock surrender. “I just, I do not enjoy this, though I am grateful to you. But it seems—”

  “Ridiculous?” Evelyn offered with a smile. “It is. Utterly. Which is why Andrew and I spend a minimum amount of time in London. But…” She leaned closer and spoke softly “…if your suspicions are correct, and someone in the Home Office is behind all this, then London is where we need to be. And if we need to be in London, we need to be dressed in the very height of the latest fashion.”

  Gabby knew her face was crestfallen, but she couldn’t help it. She hated this nonsense.

  Evelyn eyed her then turned to speak to the coachman, issuing some quick instructions that Gabrielle didn’t hear.

  “Come,” Evelyn said, linking her arm through Gabby’s, “let us walk to the local bookshop. I never get to browse as much as I’d like. Andrew gets bored to tears. But you and I shall have a marvellous time wandering through the shelves.”

  They began walking back down the busy main street of the bustling village, Evelyn’s maid and the footman trailing behind.

  “I know that even Jonathan has agreed to it, but are you sure using yourself as bait to lure out the scoundrel is the only way to do this?” Evelyn asked quietly.

  “It must be someone quite senior in the Home Office…” Gabby explained, not for the first time. But Evelyn’s concern was so touching, it was impossible to feel impatient. “…to have the ability and the means to put together such an elaborate plot. Plus, I’m not really known by any agents other than Andrew and Jonathan, and now Lucas, so it must be someone I’ve dealt with, and I’ve only dealt with senior agents. Nobody in the field.”

  They got to the bookshop and stepped inside, allowing their eyes to adjust to the dimness.

  As they began perusing the shelves, they continued to speak in hushed tones. Probably overly cautious, but it was better to err on the side of caution.

  “And if they are senior, then they definitely walk amongst the ton. There is nobody in that office who doesn’t have a high standing amongst the Quality.”

  Evelyn sighed.

  “So, it stands to reason that they will be at the parties and events you wish to attend. It just seems so dangerous, Gabby.”

  “Not really,” Gabrielle assured the other woman quickly. “After all, whoever he is, he obviously doesn’t wish to get his own hands dirty. He’s not going to shoot me in the middle of Almack’s.”

  Her humour wasn’t well received, if Evelyn’s frown was anything to go by.

  “But,” Gabby continued, “it gives us a chance to try to weed out whoever it is and to keep a close eye on people while we try to solve the mystery. So you see,” she finished, “as I told Jonathan, it really is the only way.”

  “Yes, I see,” Evelyn admitted. “But I don’t blame him for being unhappy about it.”

  They changed the subject and spent a happy half hour browsing the shelves and selecting some books to purchase before they went back outside, the bell on the door jangling as they left.

  “Let’s hurry back to the coach. I told the driver not to bother following us. He’s waiting outside the milliner’s,” Evelyn said, once more linking her arm through Gabby’s.

  It felt nice, Gabby thought, having Evelyn as a friend. If she and Jonathan ever did marry, the woman would practically be a sister.

  Gabby had always wanted a sister. Or a brothe
r. Any sort of family, really.

  It was hard being so alone. And until she’d learned Jonathan was innocent of trying to hurt her, she really hadn’t had anybody.

  Her mother’s family wanted nothing to do with her, and her father’s, well, there weren’t any of them, unfortunately. Not to her knowledge in any case.

  She had wondered when she’d first arrived on Lucas’ ship, if perhaps her mother’s family were behind her attacks, but the idea was preposterous. For one thing, they knew nothing about her. For another, they didn’t even know what she looked like.

  No, it had to be someone in the Home Office. Why, though, was anyone’s guess.

  Gabby was so lost in her thoughts that she was more distracted than she should have been.

  And because of that, she didn’t notice the carriage hurtling towards them until it was too late.

  In fact, the only thing that alerted Gabby was the footman’s cry from behind them followed swiftly by the maid’s scream.

  She looked up in confusion, and her eyes clashed with those of the horses careering toward them, a black carriage being dragged in their wake.

  She heard Evelyn’s gasp as she sprang into action, pushing the other woman out of the way of the vehicle.

  Gabby jumped just as the carriage came upon them and landed with a hard thud on the mucky ground.

  She felt a jarring pain through one of her shoulders as she rolled out of the way then sat up in time to see the vehicle disappear at the end of the road.

  She sat in total shock for seconds before they were suddenly besieged by a crowd of people who had witnessed what had happened.

  Gabby scrambled to her feet and, ignoring the sharp pain in her shoulder and her ankle, rushed to Evelyn to see if the other lady was hurt.

  “Evelyn, are you all right?” she gasped breathlessly.

  “Y-yes,” the other woman replied shakily as she was helped to her feet.

  Evelyn’s face and gown were smattered with dirt, and Gabby had no doubt hers was the same.

  “Gabby, you saved me,” Evelyn gasped as she reached out to pull Gabby into a hug.

  Gabrielle winced at the pain of the embrace but stoically held her tongue.

  The people surrounding them were fussing and shouting in a cacophony of sounds, and the chaos made her head pound.

  Glancing around, she saw the coachman, footman, and maid rushing toward them, and she blew out a relieved breath.

  “We need to get back to Mr. Casings’ estate,” she said as soon as they were close enough to hear her instructions.

  Calling out profuse thanks and assurances that they were uninjured, Evelyn and Gabby quickly made their way to Andrew’s waiting coach.

  The vehicle had been sent, no doubt, to kill her. There were no markings on it, and the blinds were pulled down. Even the driver had been unidentifiable, covered as he was in black from head to toe.

  The sooner they got back, the better off they would be.

  It was in the back of Gabby’s mind that the coach may make another attempt whilst they were on the road, but she kept her fears to herself. She didn’t want to worry Evelyn unnecessarily.

  Discreetly as she could, she reached down with her good arm and patted her boot, making sure the dagger she kept there was still in place.

  It wasn’t big, but she could do damage with it if necessary.

  There was no question now. The incident on the stairs had been no accident, not that she’d ever really thought it had been.

  Whoever was trying to kill her was obviously getting more desperate.

  She was running out of time.

  JONATHAN LAUGHED AS his nephew pulled at his hair, William’s pudgy little fingers stronger than they looked.

  “Really grips on, doesn’t he?” Andrew laughed proudly.

  “Indeed. He is strong as an ox,” Jonathan responded. “He gets that from my side of the family.”

  They bantered back and forth as they were always wont to do until the sound of a commotion in the foyer downstairs brought an abrupt end to their conversation.

  “What the—”

  Andrew’s words were cut off by the sound of Piers’ usually unflappable butler shouting in surprise.

  “My lady. Are you well?”

  My lady meant Evelyn, and before Jonathan could even blink, Andrew was on his feet and tearing from the room.

  Jonathan handed William back to his waiting nursemaid before rushing after Andrew.

  His heart was pounding in fear as he flew down the stairs.

  He came skidding to a halt before he ploughed into Andrew, who had stopped just in front of him.

  There were housemaids and footmen filling the foyer, people shouting questions and demands, and Jonathan couldn’t see or hear Gabrielle through it all.

  Where the hell was Piers to control his staff?

  Bloody hell, this was ridiculous.

  “Enough,” he bellowed over the sound and was grateful for the immediate silence.

  The staff scrambled out of the way, and he saw Evelyn and Gabby standing there, covered in dirt and shaking.

  Jonathan barely heard Andrew’s oath beside him as the other man rushed to his wife and lifted her from her feet, crushing her toward him.

  “What happened? Are you all right? Who did this?” he demanded, all the while pressing her against him.

  Jonathan paid little attention to them; he strode to Gabby and stopped inches from her.

  This is where it killed him not to be married to her.

  He couldn’t pull her into his arms the way he wanted to, not if he didn’t want staff gossiping and damaging her reputation.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, hearing the gruffness in his voice, uncaring of it.

  “M-my shoulder,” she answered softly, “and my ankle. A carriage came at us. It wasn’t an accident.”

  He knew the woman before him inside out, and for her to even mention an injury meant it must hurt like the devil.

  All of a sudden he thought, to hell with propriety and gossip, and he bent to sweep her into his arms. Again.

  Gabby’s eyes widened, but she didn’t fight him, which worried him all the more.

  “Move,” he bit out to the staff still loitering, and they parted immediately. He was never so rude to household staff, and he made a note to send an apology later. Right now, however, his mind was solely focused on the woman in his arms.

  “Call for the doctor,” he instructed the butler as he stalked toward the drawing room. “And find Mr. Casings.”

  The man mustn’t be in the house, if he hadn’t come when the screeching had started.

  But he needed to be here now. The measures they’d taken to keep Gabrielle safe hadn’t worked.

  Glancing behind him, Jonathan saw that Evelyn was hurrying after him, Andrew’s arm draped protectively around her.

  The two men shared a brief look, but it was long enough for Jonathan to know that however much Andrew had been willing to help before now, the fact that Evelyn had nearly been killed had just made it personal for the other man. And there was murder in his eyes.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “JONATHAN, I’M MERELY saying that we cannot rush into this. We must calm down first and try to be logical.”

  Jonathan felt like landing a facer right on the jaw of his mentor and friend.

  Piers didn’t understand.

  Gabrielle was going to be killed for God’s sake. And he was worried about causing offence.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” the older man said calmly, leaning back in his chair behind the desk.

  The three men were ensconced in Piers’ study yet again, while the ladies were resting abovestairs.

  Dr. Finlay had arrived quickly, his face grim.

  It must be obvious to him that Gabrielle’s accidents were not accidents at all. And while Jonathan would have usually preferred to use a different surgeon so as not to raise questions or suspicions, he hadn’t really cared for such things at that time.

&nb
sp; Her shoulder had been dislocated, and Jonathan’s heart had been lanced in two at her screams while Dr. Finlay pushed it back into place.

  He’d nearly throttled the man, even though he had only been doing his job, and if he hadn’t been needed by Gabby’s side while it was happening, he very likely would have.

  Her ankle, too, had been sprained. And that wasn’t to mention the cuts and bruises from her dive to the roadside.

  Thankfully, Evelyn hadn’t suffered much more than a couple of bruises herself, and after a hot bath, she had declared herself fit as a fiddle.

  Andrew, however, had insisted that she rest, so she was in her rooms with William.

  Gabrielle would yet again be bed-bound until Dr. Finlay thought it safe for her to move around.

  “What am I thinking?” Jonathan snarled, bringing his attention back to the conversation at hand.

  “You are thinking that I am being foolish about the captain. Or too cautious.”

  Jonathan didn’t want to be rude to his friend, so he stayed resolutely silent.

  Piers looked from him to Andrew, who wore a granite-like expression, before he sighed in defeat.

  “Truth be told, I’m starting to agree with you. Who else could it be?”

  “What I don’t understand,” Jonathan said darkly, “is why he brought her here in the first place, if he was going to kill her? It makes no sense.”

  “No,” Andrew added, “it doesn’t. We’re missing something.”

  “I know,” Jonathan said desperately. Much as it would be convenient to blame Townsend, it couldn’t possibly be him. Not when he’d saved her in Paris, given her safe passage to England, and then studiously kept an eye on her until Jonathan had arrived.

  “Shooting her in Paris and then saving her life is utterly nonsensical. It cannot be him.”

  “And yet, he disappeared the night of her being pushed down the stairs,” Piers added, “and wasn’t at the inn, where he said he was staying.”

  Jonathan swore in frustration.

  He was a clever man. They all were. But he couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on here.

  “But all those times the captain visited after he brought her here, when nobody else even knew she was here,” Jonathan continued the thread of conversation, “would have been perfect opportunities. Yet she was safe until recently.”