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England's Assassin

Page 29

by Samantha Saxon


  Falcon opened the door and the woman left without once glancing in Seamus’s direction. No sooner had the door to his office closed than did he voice his protest.

  “My lord, you cannot be serious?”

  “Oh, but I am, my boy. Lady Pervill will be working with you as of tomorrow.”

  “The lady is unqualified, not to mention impolite.”

  “The woman is brilliant, and you deserved every barb she gave you.” Falcon gave him the full force of his authority, saying, “My decision is final.”

  “Then at least put her in her own office.”

  “It is more beneficial for the Foreign Office if two scholarly heads are put together.” Falcon opened the door and smiled, his yellowing teeth hidden by what Seamus thought to be amusement. “Besides, I don’t have another office to put the lady in. Good day, Mister McCurren.”

  ***

  Seamus McCurren arrived in his office at precisely half passed eight the following morning.

  He had come at such an ungodly hour to ensure that the location of the desk provided the inconvenient Lady Juliet Pervill was placed where he wished it to be.

  Well, that was not entirely accurate, for he wished it to be located in the corridor. But if he was to be shackled with the woman then he would damn well position her desk as far away from him as was possible.

  “Good morning, James.” His secretary glanced up from his desk, clearly stunned to see Seamus arriving so early in the morning. Seamus ignored the man’s surprise, opening the inner office door as he asked, “A cup of coffee if you ple—”

  His request was cut off by the sight of Juliet Pervill sitting behind a small desk which had been placed in front of the office window. Her chestnut hair was twisted in a severe chignon at the back of her neck and she wore a gown that made her skin turn as drab as the gray color.

  The lass glanced up and nodded politely toward Seamus while speaking to James Habernathy. “Have you located the documents I requested?”

  “Uh.” Mister Habernathy looked toward Seamus for assistance. “No, ma’am. I was just on my way to prepare Mister McCurren’s morning coffee.”

  Seamus raised a triumphant brow and acknowledged the woman’s presence. “Good morning, Lady Pervill.” Then making clear that James was his secretary, said, “Black would be fine.”

  The lady’s light blue eyes flashed and she set her gaze on Seamus. “Surely, this late in the day Mister McCurren is in no need of refreshing?” Then her eyes pierced his discomfited secretary. “And do you not think it more urgent, Mister Habernathy, that our office deals with the security of this country before the comforts of its occupants?”

  James paled and Seamus took pity on the poor man. “You may retrieve my coffee when you have finished gathering the documents so”—he turned his head and met the woman’s unflinching gaze—“urgently needed by Lady Pervill.”

  “Yes, my lord,” James said, leaving before the lady had an opportunity to take a second bite.

  Seamus took a step toward his desk which faced the wall opposite hers when the lass asked with a raised brow, “My lord?” She pretended to mull the title over in her mind. “I’d no idea that you held a title,” she said, knowing full well that he was the DunDonell spare.

  Annoyed, Seamus sat in his chair and turned to face the bothersome woman.

  “It is a courtesy title.” She smiled and he added, “Rather like yours, Lady Pervill,” before politely turning his back on the lady that behaved otherwise.

  “Would you be so kind as to tell me, Mister McCurren,” she began, having caught his slight. “The details of the discovery of this code?”

  Hackles raised, Seamus lifted his head and spoke over his right shoulder. “As his lordship has no doubt told you, the anomaly appeared in three publications which—”

  “Means the mathematical probability of a consistent printing error is highly unlikely,” she finished, reading his mind. “Yes, I agree.”

  “I am so pleased our conclusions meet with your approval,” he said, picking up a new report in need of analysis.

  Seamus had not even read half the page when he saw the tiny woman standing beside his overcrowded desk. “And you have found no pattern in these articles?”

  Seamus sighed and looked up at the lass, her dusting of freckles more visible as she stared down at him.

  “No.”

  “And you have found four anomalies printed in three publications over the past two months?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I see them?” the lady asked, failing to take the hint.

  Unaccustomed to having his findings questioned, Seamus looked into her clear eyes, holding her gaze. “There is no pattern in those articles, Lady Pervill.”

  “Nevertheless.” The girl smiled. “I would like to read them.”

  Seamus handed her the clippings, knowing that she would find nothing.

  “Do let me know your conclusions,” he said, smiling before returning to the document on his desk and completely ignoring her.

  The woman eventually wandered off and he heard not a peep from the opposite side of the room until James Habernathy returned to the office with a stack of newspapers and a laden luncheon tray, both of which he set on the lady’s small desk.

  “Lady Appleton sends luncheon with regards.”

  “Oh, how thoughtful of Lady Appleton,” Lady Pervill said as though she had just been invited to tea. “Thank you so much for bringing it to me, Mister Habernathy.”

  “Not at all,” James said with considerable pleasure, adding an overly reverent inclination of his head.

  Annoyed at his secretary’s lack of loyalty, Seamus continued to read while ignoring the subtle clanking of bone china. However, what he could not ignore were the delicious aromas wafting in his direction from the opposite side of the all too small room.

  “Well”—he rose, his stomach suddenly very empty—“I’ll just leave you to dine.”

  Seamus walked from the room and he could feel Lady Pervill’s hostile gaze ushering him out of the office.

  He closed the door, thinking that summarized the problem with the entire arrangement. How was he to concentrate on his work with Lady Pervill watching his every movement? The lass had not been there half a day and she was already distracting him from the critical work that needed to be done.

  Seamus ate his midday meal alone at his club, all the while trying to decide how long he would wait before informing the old man that this forced partnership was unacceptable. A week? Yes, that would be enough time for him to assert that he had truly made an effort to work with Lady Pervill.

  A week! God in heaven.

  Seamus rolled his eyes as he wandered back to his office, his steps increasingly languid. He eventually opened the outer office door but James was nowhere to be found. He placed his hand on the knob of the inner office door and took a deep breath, opening it. However, he was startled to find Lady Pervill not at her desk, but on her hands and knees with multiple newspapers spread across the dingy wooden floor.

  The woman looked up excitedly and opened her mouth to speak. But upon seeing Seamus, she closed it and looked down at the papers again. He watched her glancing from one page to another, her large blue eyes growing wider as she read.

  Then he heard the office door opening and the old man stepped passed Seamus with James Habernathy at his heels.

  “Well?” Falcon asked.

  Lady Pervill jumped up and smiled like a child bursting with a newly discovered secret. “I’ve found something.”

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