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Fortune Favors the Sparrow

Page 4

by Rebecca Connolly


  Clara shook her head slowly, marveling at such feelings about something so dangerous. She would not pretend that she was not moved and a little inspired by the idea of purpose and meaning, though she certainly had enough of both in her teaching here. It had always seemed a noble occupation, the education of women.

  Could there be more for her in joining this other world? By all accounts, she would still teach, which was a relief, but to offer more of herself… To serve an even greater cause as well…

  “I don’t know what to think,” she found herself admitting in a half whisper.

  “About what they requested?” Abby pressed. “Or about any of it?”

  Clara swallowed once. “Any of it. All of it.” She shook her head. “I simply don’t know. I apologize if this offends.”

  Abby’s brows shot up. “Offends? Darling girl, I could not understand you more. Pippa asked me to look in on you tonight because it falls to my lot to introduce our scholarship girls to this world. I have this same conversation on the regular. Ask me any question you wish, confide what you wish. It is safe with me.”

  Doubt prickled at Clara’s mind, and she gave her would-be mentor a dubious look. “You aren’t duty-bound to report it to Pippa?”

  “Only if it relates to the safety of the kingdom, our operatives, or planned missions,” Abby quipped. “Questions, concerns, and complaints are exempt.”

  Her cheerfulness was contagious, though Clara was not in the mood for it. Still, it brightened her spirits all the same.

  Moderately.

  “I don’t…” Clara began, pausing to wet her lips. “I don’t quite understand what my role would be. Should I accept, that is. I’m not very daring or brave, and I could never fight anyone.”

  “There are several roles to fill in the covert world,” Abby assured her, reaching out a hand and placing it on Clara’s. “Each with their own unique set of skills, tasks, and expectations. Would you believe we have individuals set aside specifically for filing and transcribing? They never see a dark alley or a weapon, but they are one of us all the same.”

  Well, that wouldn’t have done for Clara at all, but it certainly did shed some light on the vastness of positions possible.

  “What have they asked of you?” Abby asked gently with a squeeze of her hand. “What is your understanding?”

  Clara’s brow wrinkled briefly in thought. “They want me to go to a house on the coast and play a role, something that will enable me to stay, as well as come and go as needed. I am to use my artistry to capture every facet of the coastline and coves, observe goings on, and infiltrate local society. Also, I am told my… abilities in the French language will be an asset, though I don’t know why.”

  Abby nodded slowly as she listened, her lips curving up more with each item. “Oh, say mastery, Clara, by all means. A Frenchman would envy your abilities, so marvelous are you.”

  There was no polite way to reply to such praise, so Clara only looked away.

  “There’s a terrible amount of pressure in this,” Clara admitted in a raw tone. “I don’t even know the context of this request, but I know enough to recognize that they would not recruit someone outside of the ranks if it were a whim.”

  “Yes and no.”

  Clara glanced back at Abby, whose wince she barely caught. “How so?”

  Abby paused, no doubt needing to weigh her words for someone like Clara who might not understand. “Not on a whim, of course, but sometimes, the scope of something is too wide and too unknown to isolate appropriately with agents or operatives in the ranks. On those occasions, there may be a need for trusted, outside individuals to be brought in to assist in the gathering of information. It allows us to narrow down the details of a situation to better isolate it for the operatives and agents more equipped for the dangerous and complicated aspects.”

  Nodding, Clara leaned back on her hands, storing that information in her mind. “So, lives will not hang in the balance on my assignment?”

  “Not yet, at any rate.” Abby smiled at the irony, and, this time, Clara understood it.

  Slightly.

  “I’d wager,” Abby continued, “that there are other houses and other areas of coastline that are being infiltrated and examined in the same way you are being asked to do. Some might be by existing assets we have, others by former operatives like myself who can no longer function in our previous capacities.”

  “It will not all be on my shoulders, then.” Clara nodded again, this time exhaling deeply as relief rolled through her. “That’s a comfort.”

  Abby chuckled to herself. “There’s not much of comfort in this world, so I’d take that and hold on tightly, if I were you.”

  Clara sighed with a touch of reluctance. “It would be so much easier to agree to this if I knew the answer as to why. Why it has to be done at all, and why the stakes are so great.”

  “Alas, why is a question we rarely get answers for beforehand, I’m afraid.” Abby nudged her gently. “But in your case, you may perhaps get some. I happen to know Pippa paces in her rooms nightly before bed, and we might be fortunate enough to find her in a giving mood. However…” Her expression turned serious. “She may require your consent before that information can be given. As a matter of security, that is sometimes required.”

  “I understand.” And truly, Clara did. For the first time in all of this, she understood the need to agree to the task before a full disclosure could be made.

  If she could understand that, might it be possible for her to understand more? She did not dare to hope, but there was an inkling.

  “I should like to see Pippa,” she heard herself say with a firmness she hadn’t known since the morning. “Will you come with me?”

  Abby rose, nodding and clasping her hands elegantly. “Of course.”

  Clara returned her nod, though it felt unsteady even as she made it.

  The pair of them walked almost silently from the teachers’ dormitory wing towards the main of the school and the headmistress’s office. Her quarters were situated very nearly adjacent to them, though Clara had never understood why that had been.

  Perhaps now she would.

  Abby took the liberty of softly knocking on the door, smiling in encouragement at Clara.

  How had she known Clara needed such encouragement? Was that something she would learn to detect in her training? Or was it written on her face?

  How could she work in covert operations if her emotions were so obvious? She’d never be able to lie convincingly if that was the case…

  The door was thrown open without any sounds from within, startling Clara with a faint gasp.

  Pippa eyed them both without an iota of surprise in her features, her fair hair plaited and hanging long across one shoulder over her tightly cinched dressing gown. She smiled faintly. “I wondered if I would see you this evening.”

  Clara blushed at being so easily predicted. “I fear I have questions. I hope you don’t mind.”

  A wry smile crossed Pippa’s face. “I’d be most surprised if you didn’t. Please, come in. I’ll ring for some tea.”

  “Oh, there’s no need!” Clara insisted as Pippa stepped back to let them in. “It’s so late, all of the servants will be in bed.”

  “In a typical establishment, perhaps,” Pippa allowed with a hint of a laugh in her voice. “At Miss Masters’, however…”

  Clara glanced over her shoulder as she moved into the room. “Yes?”

  Pippa grinned outright. “I’ve just finished my summary of the day with Mrs. Allendale. She mentioned going to the kitchens for some tea herself, it will be no trouble to have some sent in. In fact, I do so on the regular.”

  “Is Mrs. Allendale…?” Clara began to ask before biting her lip. “That is…”

  She could barely ask the question, but if the housekeeper were among the covert operatives in this place, it would not surprise her. Mrs. Allendale was more perceptive than any woman Clara had ever met and possessed a remarkable amount of influence
for one in her position. Matronly and stern, kind and brisk, she was all contradiction and yet perfectly suited to any extreme.

  If she were not a spy, who was?

  “I cannot say,” Pippa answered, her tone careful, but amused.

  Clara glanced at her and saw an understanding smile there. “I have little trouble believing that.”

  Pippa laughed and waved her over to some chairs and a small table. “Yes, I’m afraid she has never been a housekeeper in a large estate, but her past did lend her to her present position quite well. Give me a moment while I send for tea.” She smiled again before stepping out.

  Abby sat and patted the place next to her on the divan. “Come sit, Clara. Make yourself comfortable. It will be much easier if you do.”

  “I don’t know how easy any of this will be,” Clara murmured, flicking the ends of her shawl anxiously and moving to take the seat indicated.

  Thankfully, Abby made no attempt to soothe her further, aside from a small smile.

  Clara had endured enough soothing that she could not be sure of nor understand, and simply wanted to get the information she needed so she could make a more informed and careful decision. She was not impetuous or impulsive, nor was she in any way daring, which made her all the more curious as a prospect for this covert world of secrets.

  Then again, Clara did have a few secrets of her own…

  “There,” Pippa said as she returned to them. “Just a few moments, and we will have tea. I find I always sleep better after a warm cup of something or other, and it does not matter very much what the drink is so much as the temperature.” She shared an amused look with Abby, and Clara looked at the two with bewilderment.

  It was exactly the sort of conversation she would have expected to hear between them before she had learned of the secret life they lived. Almost as though there was no difference in their natures from who she had known them to be before.

  Was that meant to be a sign? Was it intentional?

  Confusion could only abound at a time like this.

  “Clara,” Pippa prodded with a gentle air, though there did seem to be an underlying note of insistence that forced Clara to look at her.

  It was no wonder the woman had charge of female spies in England with abilities like that.

  Yet Clara found warmth and a good deal of understanding in her countenance.

  “You have questions,” Pippa said simply, folding her hands in her lap. “If you’ll ask them, I’ll tell you what I can.”

  “Do I need to consent to the assignment first?” Clara queried, her eyes flicking over to Abby apprehensively.

  Pippa hummed a quick laugh. “That would make this all rather neat and tidy, I daresay, but your questions probably keep you from accepting, do they not?”

  Clara managed a smile at that. “Yes…”

  “Then I cannot think why we should do the thing backwards, can you?” Pippa dipped her chin in a nod. “If it is something that will require some assurance, I shall tell you in advance, but anything I can tell you freely, given that I trust you without the confirmation, I will relate.”

  Was it really so simple? It couldn’t have been, not when an entire world operated beneath the surface of the one she knew without detection. Yet here she was, being offered the answer to any question, within reason, without having to commit herself to joining anything.

  There was something about the ease of such a thing that she did not trust a jot.

  Now that she was invited to inquire, however, she did not know where to start.

  She gnawed the inside of her lip, feeling foolish and stupid in front of these increasingly impressive women. “I don’t…” She heaved a sigh and shook her head. “I don’t even know what to ask, honestly. But… why?”

  Pippa raised a trim brow. “Why what?”

  Clara had known that was coming, and rolled her eyes, smiling in amusement. “Why me, first of all.”

  “Simple.” Pippa straightened and smiled at her. “You are conveniently located for this assignment. You have a mastery of the French language that is to be envied. Your artistic abilities are splendid, and more than that, they are accurate. And you are someone I would trust with my life, should it ever be necessary.”

  “Is it necessary?” Clara asked with some mild alarm.

  As though she had stumbled upon some private joke, Pippa and Abby chuckled. “Not this time, no,” Pippa assured her.

  The strangest sense of relief washed over Clara, just as it had when Abby had told her that lives would not be at risk over her assignment.

  What a peculiar thing to find relief in.

  Clara frowned slightly, moving on to her next question. “Why not have one of your operatives take on the assignment you put to me? Surely that would make more sense.”

  “It would,” Pippa agreed, nodding calmly. “However, the information we have received indicates multiple areas requiring attention, and, with current assignments and activities, we simply did not have enough agents available. So, we have entrusted some areas to former operatives and trusted assets.” Her smile spread and she gave Clara a pointed look. “Which is where you come in, should you accept.”

  “But if there’s danger…” Clara bit the objection back, knowing that her friend and headmistress would never send her into an unsafe venture.

  At least not intentionally.

  As though Pippa could see Clara’s mind spin and hear her thoughts, she sobered and sat forward, clasping her hands before her. “Clara, I cannot guarantee the safety of every person I place in a scenario. Not absolutely. But I do not put anyone in a situation without proper training and certainly not unprepared for what they might face. In your particular case, the potential for danger is as close to negligible as I have ever seen in this world. If that is of any comfort.”

  There was some satisfaction in knowing that Pippa had considered Clara’s concerns before Clara had even had them. That her selection had not been simply convenient but something of real thought. That this woman, who held such power that was almost certainly unnoticed, saw something of value in Clara for that world.

  How could she refuse that?

  Clara blinked at such a clear decision on her part, given the turmoil she’d endured in the hours preceding this.

  But now…

  “I’ll do it,” she heard herself say. More than that, she felt herself smile. “I accept.”

  Pippa grinned, making her appearance years younger, though Clara would never have called her aged before. A smile such as this was rarely seen on the headmistress’s face, but it brightened her entire countenance and heightened the underlying beauty that had so easily been missed.

  And it made Clara’s smile grow.

  “I’m so pleased to hear you say that,” Pippa said on a heavy sigh. “And relieved. To be perfectly frank, I didn’t have another option for this particular setting.”

  Clara giggled, suddenly thrilled to be part of something so secret yet so unifying. “Where would you like me to go, then?”

  Abby snickered to herself. “Steady on, she’s not sending you to Bath.”

  “No, indeed.” Pippa’s smile became something rather knowing, her eyes taking on a new light. “We need you to go to Kirkleigh Park. It’s only ten miles from here, and it’s the seat of the Duke of Kirklin when he’s in Kent.”

  Clara blinked in surprise, her newfound euphoria fading quickly. “The Duke of Kirklin? As in Lady Adrianna Russell’s brother? Our student’s eldest brother?”

  At Pippa’s nod, Clara felt the air rush from her lungs. “How in the world am I to do that? I cannot go without an invitation, and if the duke is in residence…”

  “He isn’t,” Pippa and Abby said together.

  Clara looked at both in turn. “Ever?”

  There, Pippa winced. “Well, he may make a yearly visit, I suppose, or stay there if he comes to visit Lady Adrianna here, but he makes his home in Wiltshire at Millmond. We placed an operative on his gardening staff some weeks ago now, and
it is quite certain he is not expected for the rest of the year.”

  “And how am I to stay at the house?” Clara pressed, the issue somehow larger than whether or not the duke was going to be at home. “What role did you have in mind? And when?”

  She was startled to see Pippa grin again. “The late duke, the present duke’s uncle, had a ward that spent a number of years at Kirkleigh during her childhood. Fondly, as it happens, very fondly. Her name was Alexandra Moore, and in appearance, she was a very fair child.”

  Catching the idea, Clara felt a new smile teasing the corners of her lips. “How convenient. Will there be an issue with my portraying her?”

  “Not a bit,” Pippa quipped eagerly. “She’s settled in the south of France, and very willing to help us.” She hesitated a moment, then continued. “Your cousin has taken great pains to help us there.”

  Thinking she might have meant a cousin of Abby’s, Clara did not react immediately. When Pippa did not look elsewhere, or speak further, Clara’s jaw dropped. “Mine?” she squeaked. “My cousin? You mean… Martin?”

  Pippa rose and came to sit beside her, taking her hand. “Martin has been working for us for several years now. He’s in Paris most of the time, but when we mentioned we were considering you for this, he insisted on being the one to find Miss Moore and get as much information as you could possibly need.”

  “I never thought…” Clara swallowed hard, tears flooding her eyes. “I never…”

  “There is a great deal that Lord Rothchild could tell you about him when you see him next,” Pippa told her with a surprising deal of warmth. “He cannot come back to England yet, as he is doing incredible work for us in France. He oversaw the operation that prompted the need for your assignment, as it happens.”

  Clara could not believe her ears. In all her life, she had only had one cousin, and he had been as close as a brother. Martin had been away for years, which had hurt her deeply, and, apart from a moving letter delivered only weeks ago, she never heard from him.

  If he had invested and sacrificed so much of himself and his life into this world, how could she do anything less?

 

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