My Wicked Little Lies

by Victoria Alexander

  “I do hope that’s you, Sir.” Evie’s voice came from behind the screen. “Otherwise I shall be most dreadfully embarrassed.”

  Without thinking, he adopted the lower tone he had used as Sir and resolved to keep his comments to a minimum. “Good afternoon, Eve.”

  “Do sit down, I won’t be a minute.”

  There was a chair positioned facing the screen. It struck him as a most theatrical setting. For a moment, hope fluttered in his chest. Perhaps, this wasn’t at all what he thought it was. He sat down.

  “As you wish.”

  “I have been giving a great deal of thought to our conversation last night.”

  An article of clothing popped up from behind the screen, then drifted down to settle on the top of the screen. Her bodice? She was undressing? All hope shattered.

  He swallowed. “Have you?”

  “Indeed I have. I must admit, your comments came as a complete surprise.” Skirts flew upward, then settled over the screen. “And something of a revelation as well.”

  His tone hardened. “Did they?”

  “Oh my, yes. In all those years that I was dreaming of you, I never imagined you might dream of me as well.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  She laughed, a sound that would have been most delightful under other circumstances. “Not for a moment. I had hoped, of course.”

  A stocking flipped over the top of the screen.

  “Did you?”

  She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “Every day.” She paused. “And very nearly every night.” A second stocking joined the first.

  “It’s only natural, I suppose,” he said in a grudging manner. And wasn’t that, too, his fault? Hadn’t he been falling in love with her long before they’d met in person? Hadn’t Sir’s notes become more flirtatious through the years? Could he blame her now for reaching for something she’d long wanted but had never had?

  “I have to confess, I wasn’t entirely honest last night. My regrets go beyond never having seen your face.”

  “Do they?”

  But damnation, now she was a married woman! She wasn’t supposed to want anyone but him. It scarcely mattered that the object of her desire and her husband were one and the same. She didn’t know that!

  “I do wish they didn’t but I can’t seem to help myself. You are the man I have always wanted.”

  His jaw tightened. “But what of your husband?”

  “Oh, Adrian is a dear, sweet, darling man.” A corset joined the rest of her clothes. Good God, did she intend to disrobe entirely? “And I shall always be fond of him—”

  “Fond of him?” His voice rose. “I thought you shared a great love?”

  “Yes, well, that was before.”

  “Before?”

  “Before I knew of your feelings.”

  He sucked in a shocked breath. “You said he was charming and intelligent and amusing.”

  “And he is. But he’s not the least bit adventurous. Not overly exciting really, he can even be dull at times, although he is very nice,” she added quickly.

  “Nice?” She thought he was dull but nice? Nice?

  “And while I have recently discovered there is more to him than I ever imagined, he is not you, is he?” Her chemise flew upward from behind the screen as if to emphasize her words. “As much as I hate to admit it, he does pale somewhat in comparison to you. But then most men do.”

  Adrian choked. “Do you intend to leave him then?”

  “Divorce, you mean?” She scoffed. “I should hate to give up being the Countess of Waterston. I quite like it, you know. As well as all that lovely money.” She sighed. “I don’t think anyone who has always had money can appreciate what it’s like not to have any at all. Oh no, I have no intention of giving that up.”

  “I thought you didn’t marry him for his money?”

  “I didn’t but it certainly made him much more appealing.”

  He struggled to keep his voice level. “If you’re not going to leave him, what do you intend?”

  “Why, I intend to have you both, of course.” She laughed lightly. “Any number of women I know have lovers as well as husbands. It seems to work out quite well for all concerned. I see no reason why it won’t do as nicely for us.”

  “I can think of any number of reasons,” he snapped.

  “My goodness, Sir, I didn’t expect you to be quite so stuffy about this.”

  “I have no intentions of sharing you with another man.” Even if that other man is me!

  “Well, you can’t have me all to yourself. It simply wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Fair?” he sputtered.

  “We do want to be fair. Adrian deserves no less.” She paused. “He’s quite a decent sort, you know, even if he isn’t adventurous—”

  “Would you stop saying that!”

  “Why?” Her tone was harder than before. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s not true.” Anger brought him to his feet.

  “Perhaps it’s time for the truth then?”

  “Past time, Evie.” At the moment he didn’t care what her reaction to his revelation would be. He drew a deep breath.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  She huffed in exasperation. “Do get that, would you, Sir? I’m not entirely presentable.”

  “Perhaps you should have considered that before you disrobed,” he said sharply.

  “I wasn’t expecting anyone else,” she snapped.

  This was not a good time for interruptions. They were moments from settling everything between them once and for all. He stepped to the door and yanked it open. “Yes?”

  Two shockingly large men stood in the doorway, dressed in hotel uniforms. “Sorry to bother you, my lord.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  They traded glances. “You could say that.”

  The shorter man shouldered his way into the room and nodded toward the closed bedroom door. “She must be in there.” He strode across the room, grabbed a chair, and wedged it under the bedroom doorknob.

  At once, Adrian realized these men were not who they appeared. If he hadn’t been so angry, he would have recognized the truth the moment he opened the door. Before he could act, the taller man grabbed him from behind and clapped a rag over his face. Bloody hell, he knew that smell. He struggled against his captors, but in spite of his best efforts to hold his breath, the chloroform acted quickly and he felt himself slipping into oblivion. And prayed Evie would remain hidden and safe.

  And prayed as well he would see her again.

  Evelyn counted to ten before leaving the safety of the screen. She had seen everything through the cracks between the screen’s panels. The hardest thing she’d ever done in her life was to keep still when they’d dragged her husband out of the room. Every instinct urged her to act but she knew better. She was no match for those brutes. Fortunately, the clothes she had tossed over the screen were those she had brought for the purpose and she was still fully clothed. Now, she needn’t waste time dressing.

  It was obvious: this kidnapping was real. The distinctive sweet smell of chloroform lingered in the air. It no longer mattered what he had done or how angry she was with him, she was not about to let him disappear from her life or this world forever. One look at the thugs who had taken him told her they would not be gentle and there would not be much time. Determination hardened within her. She would not let Adrian go without a fight. But this battle could not be won alone. She would need her friends.

  Whether as Sir or Adrian, her husband had never failed her. And she would not fail him now.

  Chapter 24

  She slammed opened the door to Max’s office. “I’m assuming this is not another perverted attempt to ... to ... well, I don’t know to what. Adrian has been abducted!”

  Max got to his feet and stared. “Adrian, your husband?”

  “Yes, Adrian my husband.” She narrowed her eyes. “Or should I say Sir, your cohort.”

  “I have no idea what you’re t
alking about,” he said in a lofty manner. “I say, Evelyn, you can’t come barging in here, making accusations and—”

  “I came as soon as I got your note.” Celeste appeared in the doorway.

  Max’s eyes widened with surprise. “Miss DeRochette.”

  “Sir Maxwell,” Celeste said coolly.

  “Oh, come now.” Evelyn rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “You needn’t continue this pretense. I know it all.”

  “All of it?” Caution sounded in Max’s voice.

  “All of it,” Evelyn said in a hard tone.

  “You told her?” Max glared at Celeste. “You agreed not to say a word.”

  “Did I?” Celeste raised a brow. “I don’t recall agreeing to any such thing. And if I did”—she shrugged—“I lied.”

  “That’s neither here nor there at the moment,” Evelyn snapped. “The more pressing problem is my husband has been abducted. I have no idea if the intended victim was Adrian or Sir. The men who took him barely said a word.”

  “Took him from where?” Max asked.

  “The Langham.”

  “Ah yes, Room 327,” Max murmured.

  “Indeed.” Evelyn clenched her teeth. “Who could have done this, Max?”

  “And more to the point ...” Celeste said. “Why?”

  “We think it all ties into the theft of the file.” He glanced at Evelyn. “As you know, it reveals the names of the last three heads of the department. Lord Lansbury was found dead this morning.”

  Evelyn’s breath caught with fear. “And the other man?”

  “He died a few months ago. Initially, we thought it was due to natural causes; now we are not so certain.” His gaze met Evelyn’s and he winced. “That was Sir George.”

  She stared. “Sir George Hardwell?”

  Max nodded.

  “My guardian?” Evelyn’s voice rose. “He was a head of the department?”

  Celeste gasped. “Good Lord.”

  “I am sorry, Evelyn,” Max began.

  “Don’t be.” She waved away his comment. “There was no affection lost between us. I never even met the man. It does, however, explain why I was approached by Lansbury to join the department.”

  “He probably knew you’d make an excellent agent,” Max said staunchly.

  Even Celeste cast him a skeptical eye.

  “What he knew was that working for the department would take care of my financial instability and he could wash his hands of me,” Evelyn said. Odd, she probably should feel some sort of remorse for his passing or even bitterness at his treatment of her, but there were no feelings at all for this man who had cared so little about her he never even met her in person. “That’s of no concern now at any rate.”

  “We suspect, Adrian and I, that is,” Max said, “that as the file revealed the true identities of the last three heads of the department, whoever is behind this has some sort of grudge against the department or against Adrian, Lansbury, and Sir George personally.”

  “That makes no sense.” Celeste shook her head. “Between the three men that would be a personal grievance that goes back, oh, nearly thirty years?”

  Max nodded. “Which is why we think it’s more likely the purpose is to cripple the department or embarrass the government or expose—”

  “I don’t care! It doesn’t matter! What is wrong with the two of you?” Evelyn glared at the others. “All that matters is getting Adrian back. And I would much prefer to have him back alive.”

  “That’s exactly what we are trying to do,” Max snapped.

  “Evelyn, dear.” A reassuring note sounded in Celeste’s voice. “The more we know about the why, the better we can determine the who. Which will hopefully lead us to where Adrian is being held.”

  If he was still alive. She dismissed the terrifying thought. “Yes, of course.”

  “Max,” Celeste said thoughtfully, “you don’t know for certain the circumstances of Sir George’s death?”

  “I had my secretary make inquiries.” Max shrugged. “He found nothing unusual.”

  “Perhaps there was something that was insignificant at the time,” Celeste said, “that now might prove important.”

  He cast her an admiring look. “Quite right.” He turned to the side door, opened it, and frowned. “He’s not at his desk at the moment. Odd, he usually tells me when he goes out.”

  “Max,” Evelyn said slowly. “Only Celeste knew I was meeting Sir today. Who here knew about my meeting with Sir at the Langham?”

  “Only Adrian and I. No one else.”

  “The man I delivered Evelyn’s note to.” Celeste met Max’s gaze. “Might he have read it?”

  “Mr. Sayers?” Max shook his head. “I doubt that.”

  “But if he read the note, he would know Adrian was to be at Room 327 at four o’clock,” Evelyn said slowly.

  “Rubbish.” Max scoffed. “I trust the man completely. He’s been with the department for years. His record is spotless.”

  “But doesn’t he have access to all the records?” Evelyn asked. “If one wanted to make oneself look as trustworthy as possible, it would be a simple matter to change one’s own record. And he had access to the file.”

  “And as it was he who allegedly looked into Sir George’s death,” Celeste began, “couldn’t he make his report to you say whatever he wished?”

  “Beyond that,” Evelyn continued, “you thought from the beginning the theft of the file involved someone within the department.”

  Max stared at the women.

  “Max.” Evelyn met his gaze directly. “No one else could have possibly known about the meeting at the Langham. No one.”

  “Bloody hell.” Max’s expression hardened. “We might be wrong, but it’s all we’ve got at the moment.”

  “As you are the only one of us who knows him, think, Max.” Celeste’s brow furrowed. “Where would he be holding Lord W?”

  “He has a key to the warehouse,” Max said slowly. “And aside from last night, we haven’t used it in quite some time. But that strikes me as too obvious.”

  “It’s only obvious if we know Sayers is the culprit,” Evelyn said sharply. “Now, what shall we do?”

  Quickly they devised a plan. Max left the office for a few minutes to send for some of his men and issue orders. They would meet them at the docks. It was all going entirely too slowly for Evelyn, but it couldn’t be helped. Max wasted a few more minutes trying to convince the women not to accompany him. He certainly should have known better. They had once been trained agents, after all. And neither she nor Celeste would sit calmly at home and wait. It was not in the nature of either woman. There was entirely too much at stake.

  “Oh, you’ll need this, I suspect.” Celeste pulled a small pistol from her bag. “I have mine as well.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Evelyn hefted the gun in her hand. It had been two years since she’d held the revolver. A Webley bulldog, it wasn’t as light as something more appropriate for a lady, but it was small enough to fit in a pocket. Besides, she rather liked the weight of it. Of course, she had to hold it with two hands but that only served to make her aim more accurate. With its checkered wood grips, it was a most practical firearm. She glanced at Celeste. “Loaded?”

  Celeste cast her an indignant look. “Of course.”

  Max groaned.

  “She’s very good with it, Max.” Celeste nodded in a smug manner. “As am I.”

  “And when was the last time either of you practiced?” he snapped. “It’s not like riding a horse, you know. You can’t get back on it and suddenly remember how to ride.”

  “Nonsense, Max,” Evelyn said absently, still reacquainting herself with the revolver. “It is exactly like riding a horse. One never forgets this sort of thing.”

  Within the hour, all was ready and they prepared to leave.

  “One more thing.” She aimed Max a hard look. “If at all possible, I would prefer not to let Adrian know I know he’s Sir.”

  “Very well.” He threw
his hands up in resignation. “I won’t ask why. I don’t want to know. I’ll just be grateful if we all survive the night in one piece. And frankly, I’m not as worried about Adrian’s welfare as I am that one of you might accidentally shoot me.”

  “Accidentally, Max?” Celeste grinned. “I certainly wouldn’t worry about an accident.”

  “No, Max. If I fire this pistol ...” A grim note sounded in Evelyn’s voice. “It will not be an accident.”

  Every minute that passed brought Evelyn one minute closer to being a widow.

  Max and Celeste continued to discuss the situation in low tones, probably to ease her apprehension. She did learn Lord Lansbury’s throat had been slit, which did nothing to allay her fears.

  Evelyn tried to hold the ticking clock in her head at bay, but as she sat in the carriage, on the endless way to the docks, the direst thoughts filled her head. And clutched at her heart.

  She tried as well not to think about the possibility they might not find Adrian, that he might not be at the warehouse. Or the chance Sayers was not the culprit and the real villain was still unknown. She clung to the hope that their assumptions were correct. They had no others.

  Still, she could not ignore the fact that if they were wrong about any of it, they might be very wrong. And it would be too late. She knew they were moving as quickly as possible, but it did not seem nearly fast enough. Evelyn had never especially been one for prayer, but at the moment, prayer was all she had. And she begged God not to let her husband go to his grave thinking she had betrayed him.

  It was still twilight when they arrived at the docks. Max’s men had arrived before them and had already caught the two thugs who had taken Adrian. They confirmed he was in the warehouse cellar and admitted things had not gone smoothly. It had taken his abductors much longer to transport Adrian than had been planned. But as far as they knew, he was still alive with Sayers, apparently in the same room where Evie had been held. Thank God.

  Max, Celeste, and some of his men were to enter the warehouse by a back entry and then descend a back stairway. It meant they would be on the far side of the building and would have to make their way toward the front. Evelyn would retrace Adrian’s steps from last night, again with several men accompanying her. It struck neither she nor Max as a particularly clever plan. Confrontation with Sayers might be disastrous, but the element of surprise might well serve their cause. And what would be more surprising than the unexpected appearance of Lady Waterston? With any luck at all, it would distract Sayers long enough for Max and the others to surround him.