The Husband Mission (The Spy Matchmaker Book 1)

by Regina Scott

  He stood on the terrace, thinking. Would it really be such a hardship to court Miss Collins? She interested him more than any woman he’d met. The feelings he had for her could very well blossom into love. But was it fair to enter into any courtship when a part of him still hoped to join Lord Hastings’ forces? He couldn’t see his sprite being happy with the half-truths he’d be allowed to tell her. More likely she’d want to be part of the game. And he didn’t think he could play the game knowing his wife was exposed to danger. Best to simply stick to his course.

  If he could stick to it. When he thought about it, the more disgusted he grew by how easily he was distracted. First the intriguing Miss Collins, then her stepsister, and now the prospect of marriage. If he had any sense, he would return to the ball and demand that Hastings let him join their pursuit.

  He moved toward the door, only to have it open in his face. Lord Templeman glared at him.

  “I hope you won’t make me call you out over my cousin, Borin,” he growled.

  Alex merely eyed him. “What a singularly stupid suggestion, Templeman. What would possess you to attempt suicide when you could wait a few more weeks and have the fortune with no trouble?”

  “Ha!” Templeman crowded forward, forcing Alex back. “Then you are after the money!”

  “I could care less about Miss Templeman’s fortune, or lack thereof,” Alex informed him. “You have no reason to accost me. Take yourself off.”

  “Not until I am certain you have no interest in my cousin.”

  “What do you all want from me?” Alex demanded. “Shall I post an ad in The Times? ‘Lord Borin tenderly regrets that he has absolutely no interest in courting the fair Miss Templeman.’ There are far more likely candidates in the ballroom. Go insult one of them.”

  “But you are the only one she took to the terrace.” He smirked, making his unpleasant face even more so. “I saw her return, Borin. She’d been crying.”

  “Which any reasonable man would see as a sign that I had diminished myself in her affections.” He moved to pass the rudesby, but Templeman caught his arm.

  “Or dallied with her affections,” he challenged. “Are you the type of man to offer for a girl you’ve compromised?”

  “No, I’m the type to slit her encroaching relative’s throat. Now take your hands off me.”

  Some of his anger must have shown in his face, for Templeman dropped his hold. His eyes narrowed craftily. “I could make it worth your while to walk away.”

  Alex stared at him, stomach roiling. Katherine had not overstated the case when she made him out to be a villain. Templeman must have taken his disgusted silence as interest, for his little eyes widened in obvious glee.

  “Yes, indeed, my lord, I can help you in any number of ways. I have connections, here and abroad. Do you like French champagne? The blockade will not stop my agents. Do you prefer Spanish gold? I have a chest. Arabian horses? I know where they are foaled. Tell me what you want, and I will get it for you.”

  “You have nothing to offer me,” Alex replied, yanking himself free. The very idea of taking anything from the fellow made his skin crawl. He started to go, then paused. French champagne? Spanish gold? Arabian horses? Could Templeman be connected to the foreign agent? He stared at the porcine face, where even now a fine sweat was beading. Surely even foreign agents had higher standards for their operatives.

  “You thought of something,” Templeman accused as if he could see inside Alex’s head. “Say the word, my lord. Your desires are but music to my ears.”

  Alex blinked. “Music? Of course.”

  Templeman moved closer. “Yes?”

  How very perfect. He could do one last good deed for Katherine, to show her and her stepsister he bore them no ill will. “There is one thing you can do for me,” he told Templeman. “Grant this request, and I promise you I will never offer for your cousin.”

  Templeman eyed him suspiciously. “What?”

  “You have something that belongs to Miss Collins. Return her harp and any materials that go with it, and I will cease my suit of Miss Templeman.”

  He frowned. “The harp? Why should you care whether Miss Collins has her harp?”

  “That should not concern you. My price is a small one. Would you prefer I make it larger?”

  He held up his hands. “No, no. The harp it shall be. Do I have your word as a gentleman then?” He stuck out his hand.

  Alex eyed the meaty fingers but refused to take them. Templeman slowly withdrew his hand.

  “My word as a gentleman,” Alex said solemnly. “When I have seen the harp returned, I will stop courting Miss Templeman. But not one second sooner.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Katherine had noticed Lord Borin and Constance slip out to the terrace together. Throughout the ball, she had, of course, alternated between watching her stepsister and watching him. She saw the exact moment when they came together, the looks that passed between them, the closeness of their heads as they conversed.

  She told herself she should be pleased. Her stepsister had at last exerted her charms and, as Katherine had predicted, Lord Borin was no match against them. That they remained outside for so long must mean he was offering for her. She could imagine him speaking words of love. He would be poetic and profound; no trite phrases for Alexander Wescott. And Constance would murmur agreement, and then they would kiss, lips melding in a promise for the future.

  She groaned aloud, causing her partner to eye her with concern. Face flaming, she barely managed to finish the dance, then, pleading fatigue, she drove off her hoard of followers. She lowered her face to hide her telltale cheeks and moved to a different vantage point where she could watch the doors to the terrace.

  What was wrong with her? She had planned and worked and schemed for Lord Borin to offer. She should rejoice. Unfortunately, her heart felt like lead in her breast, and she was very much afraid she would burst into tears at any moment. No doubt it was merely the tension of seeing her goals finally achieved.

  She had to fend off requests for her hand for another dance before she saw the doors open and Constance slipped back inside. But even at this distance, she could see something was wrong. Her stepsister’s shoulders were slumped, and, as she hurried closer, Katherine could see that Constance had been crying. Her heart sank. Had she refused him after all? Katherine motioned her stepsister to her and huddled with her against the Chinese-patterned wallpaper.

  “What happened?” she pressed. “Are you all right?”

  Constance gave her a weak smile. “I shall endure. But if we are going to survive this night, I had better make use of the lady’s retiring room.”

  Katherine agreed, and they hurried to the room down the corridor that their hostess had set up for the ladies. They could not speak freely there as other women were in evidence, but they pretended to be overheated from the dancing and splashed cool water from a gilded basin onto Constance’s cheeks. With any luck, the drying dots of moisture on her gown would be taken as perspiration from dancing. When Katherine was reasonably certain no one else would think her stepsister had been crying, she drew her out of the room.

  “Lord Borin could not have caused this,” she whispered as they found a quiet corner of the ballroom in which to converse.

  “No,” Constance agreed. “It was my own fault. I tried to be brave like you, Katherine, but I fear I lack your fortitude.”

  Katherine felt herself pale. What had happened on that terrace? “Brave like me? What are you talking about?”

  Constance sighed. “I suppose it does not matter now whether I confess my feelings or not. I asked Lord Borin if he was courting, and he indicated he was not interested.”

  Katherine squeezed her hand. “Oh, my poor dear. When I saw the two of you go out, I thought perhaps he had changed his mind. Are you terribly crushed?”

  “Just disappointed. I had so hoped you would make of match of it.”

  She stared at her. “Me? You spoke to him about me?”

&nbs
p; Constance nodded. “Yes. Forgive me. It just seemed you were so taken with him. And I rather thought he was taken with you.”

  Now she knew her cheeks were blazing. “What could possibly give you that impression?”

  “The way he smiles when you walk in the room. The way his eyes are drawn to you, follow you, watch you. It seemed to me the mark of a man besotted.”

  “No,” Katherine replied with a sigh. “It was more likely the mark of a man suspicious, and with good reason. I think that if Lord Borin truly knew me, he would find me far too managing a female to interest him. Besides, if he could not love you, what chance could I have?”

  “I think you judge yourself too harshly,” Constance murmured. “There are many kinds of beauty, Katherine, some more obvious than others.”

  “And men are inevitably drawn to the obvious sort.” She shook her head. “Do not pity me, Constance. Like you, I shall endure. But what about you? Can you stand to attend the rest of the ball after this?”

  “I must. I would not wish tongues to wag. Besides, if I leave, you must do so as well, and I do not want Lord Borin to think you are pining away for him.”

  “Good for you. Perhaps we should take note of just what Lord Borin is thinking.” She glanced about the room to see what had become of their quarry but found him absent. Just as she frowned, she spotted him entering the room from the terrace.

  Right behind Lord Templeman.

  “Why would those two be together?” she wondered aloud.

  Constance had obviously followed her gaze for she sucked in a breath. “My cousin and Lord Borin? I cannot imagine an unlikelier pair.”

  Neither could Katherine. That Templeman might attempt to harass the viscount again was more than the outside of enough. She had to put a stop to the man’s machinations. She started forward. “Stay here, Constance. I intend to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Wait!” Constance cried, halting her. “What will you do? I thought we agreed it was best to stay away from Lord Borin, pretend nothing happened.”

  “We agreed you would so pretend. I intend to learn his business with Lord Templeman. If your cousin has frightened him away, I think I shall spoil Lady Willstencraft’s ball and have a proper fit.”

  Constance’s eyes were huge, but she let go of her. The way she bit her lip, however, told Katherine she had grave misgivings.

  Katherine wasn’t entirely sanguine about the matter herself, but if Lord Templeman was somehow behind the viscount’s refusal, she had to stop him. Beyond her, she heard the musicians start up another dance. She stepped up to the viscount and smiled sweetly.

  “I am so glad you returned in time for the dance you promised me, Lord Borin. Shall we?”

  He stared at her for a moment, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Unfortunately, he seemed to have grown more practiced at hiding his feelings. The slight frown on his golden brows could have meant anything from confusion to annoyance. At last he bowed and offered her his arm to take her out on the floor.

  She had hoped there might be an uneven number of couples so that they would be forced to stand out at the top and bottom of the set. If they were not needed by the pattern of the dance, they might have a moment for more private conversation and she would not have to resort to tricking him onto the terrace. Unfortunately, not only were the number of couples even, but the dance was one of the more active ones. She was constantly crossing and circling and stepping about, leaving no time for privacy.

  It did, however, leave the viscount with plenty of time to observe her, and she was not a little unnerved by the warm caress of his gaze. When he surreptitiously squeezed her hand in passing, she blushed, and when he winked as he crossed to her side, she had to school her face lest her grin give her away.

  As the dance ended, he bowed. “Thank you, Miss Collins, for a most enjoyable dance. I would ask for another, but I fear my reputation would not bear it.”

  “Your reputation?” She shook her head with a smile. “I was under the impression that it was the lady’s reputation that must be guarded.”

  “Not at all. A gentleman prides himself on a reputation of honor.” His smile faded, and she watched as his gaze sought out Lord Templeman across the room. So, something had happened between the two. Determined to learn what, she laid a hand on his arm.

  “I must speak to you, alone.”

  His gaze returned to her, curiosity mixed with annoyance. “You too? I suppose I should not be surprised. Is this absolutely necessary, Miss Collins?”

  “Yes. Please?”

  She had not intended the word to sound so desperate, but he was obviously not proof against it. He let out a sigh of resignation. With a curt nod, he led her on a promenade. It was the work of a moment to pull him out the door.

  “Ah, the terrace,” he said. “How very original. I wonder if it has changed since I last saw it only a few short moments ago.”

  “Stop it,” she scolded. “It was because you were out here that I must talk to you.”

  He sighed. “I assure you your stepsister’s reputation will not suffer. She can tell you I was a gentleman.”

  “Of course you were. It is not in you to behave reprehensibly.”

  He blinked. “Thank you, I think. But if you knew that, then why this subterfuge?”

  “I saw you come in with Lord Templeman. Did he threaten you?”

  He raised a brow. “Your care for my tender feelings overwhelms me, but I assure you I am able to defend myself against the likes of Templeman.”

  Katherine sighed. “I did not want to put you in the position where you had to defend yourself.”

  “Then you should not have connected me with your stepsister, for Templeman will threaten anyone who tries to separate him from that fortune.”

  “Was he so blatant as to say that? His wickedness grows.”

  The door opened to admit a tall dark-haired gentleman, consummate in his evening black. The viscount turned as if to hide his face and took her arm. Sure he meant to protect her reputation, she allowed him to lead her along the terrace toward the steps to the garden. He did not mention the incident, however, simply continuing with their conversation.

  “Yes, I fear Lord Templeman grows more bold,” he said as they walked arm in arm down the stairs. “You would do well to keep away from him, my dear.”

  “Your care for my tender feelings overwhelms me, my lord,” she quipped, forcing herself not to look back to see if the tall gentleman was watching. “But I refuse to let Constance lose her fortune without a fight.”

  “Somehow, I thought you would say that.”

  She heard the resignation in his tone. She tried to focus on her surroundings. A few early roses drowsed in the moonlight. She could hear the murmur of voices to their left and right. Other couples walked in the fragrant evening. Somehow she thought their activities were less onerous than hers were. “I will not do you the disservice of petitioning for your help again,” she said. “But would you at least tell me his strategy so that I might thwart him in future?”

  He lifted up a particularly heavy bower for her to cross beneath it. She ducked under his arm and felt it settle naturally about her shoulders. She stiffened, but his conversation continued as unhurried as his steps. “I would be delighted to outline his nasty campaign. He starts by bullying with his consequence, moves to physical threats, and ends with bribery.”

  Only the last surprised her. “Bribery? With what could he possibly bribe you?”

  Glancing up over her shoulder, she saw him smile. “In truth, very little. You could find far more interesting things.”

  “Really?” She frowned. “Such as?”

  He stopped to gaze down at her. The breeze ruffled his hair, made silver by the moon. “As you have such a high opinion of me as a gentleman, Miss Collins, I shall refrain from answering that question.”

  She gazed up at him, captivated by the heat from eyes that should have been as cool as the night sky above them. He leaned closer, his bre
ath a caress on her cheek.

  “You should return to the ballroom now, my dear.”

  “Should I?” She could not seem to move her feet. Indeed, her entire body seemed to be enveloped in a luscious lassitude.

  “Indeed,” he murmured. “I walked away from our kiss last time. If you are so unwise as to let me kiss you again now, I am not certain either of us will walk away.”

  Her heart hammered a warning. She refused to be bullied. “Like you, I am not impressed by threats, my lord.”

  “Pity,” he murmured as his mouth descended on hers.

  But it was nothing like being bullied. His lips were warm and gentle against hers. Desire coiled around her limbs, forced her arms up about his neck, urged her to press against him, to hold him close. If this was seduction, she only wanted more.

  Somewhere nearby a woman giggled. Katherine broke away from him with a gasp. Her gaze darted about, but she saw no one else among the bushes. His smile lazy, he moved to take her in his arms again.

  “Stop, please.” Her breathlessness was evident, and she took a deep gulp of air to sustain herself. “I will give you a disgust of me if I let this continue.”

  “I promise you nothing about you disgusts me,” he murmured, but he did not continue his advance.

  “Easily won is little valued,” she retorted. “I took you for a gentleman, my lord.” She stepped purposely out of his reach. The night seemed suddenly colder.

  He stiffened, then bowed. “Forgive me, Miss Collins. My behavior with you has been unconscionable. However, I did warn you.”

  “So you did. To think I did not heed the warning. I shall in the future, I promise you.”

  He bowed again. “I can only beg your pardon.”

  She felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up. “Bit late for that, my lord. Be thankful I had not set out to trap you into marriage, for if I had, you would be mine now.”

  He straightened, moonlight haloing the gold of his hair. “If you wish me to speak to your guardian, of course I shall.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I understand you were simply flirting.”