“To the carriage…we may not have much time.”
“Time for what?” Michael replied, but his words were lost as Hope darted through a particularly dense group of businessmen and they had to employ some fancy footwork to even stay together.
Finally, the couple came to where Michael had instructed the driver to wait for them and, after shoving Michael into the vehicle, Hope gave some directions to the driver and then leapt in after him. With a lurch, they were on their way.
“Hope, will you please tell me where we are going in such a hurry?” She looked at him with wide eyes as she gasped for breath. She wasn’t used to such vigorous exercise, but she was more than pleased by the maneuverability of her current outfit. She had never fully appreciated a gentleman’s ease of movement until now.
Suddenly realizing she was having the time of her life, Hope grinned at Michael and was surprised to find him glowering at her in the most disconcerting way.
Her smile faltered slightly. “Are you all right?”
Exhaling sharply, Michael replied, “I will be fine once you tell me what is going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
“I am not sure what you mean.”
“Where…are…we…going…Hope?” Michael said slowly.
“Oh…to Mr. Butt’s, of course,” Hope answered, surprised that he even had to ask. It seemed most evident to her, after overhearing the conversation between the advisor and the other gentleman, that that should be their next destination.
“Of course?” Michael echoed.
“Yes,” Hope said. “We need to go now while he and that other man are at the club.”
“You mean Cochrane-Johnstone,” Michael supplied absently.
“Andrew Cochrane-Johnstone? Of course. I knew he looked familiar,” Hope said, mostly to herself.
Michael shook his head. “But I still don’t understand. Why do we need to go to Butt’s house? I thought we had planned to search Mr. Fearn’s office.”
“Well yes, we did, but after what Mr. Butt said, I thought it would be more prudent to search his office first.”
Slapping himself on the forehead, Michael said, “I am such an idiot. He has held onto something that could implicate himself and the others, hasn’t he?”
“Yes,” Hope replied with some astonishment. “I should have thought that rather obvious.”
…
Grimacing, Michael had to agree with her. It was rather obvious, now that he thought about it. He clearly recalled the look of fear in Butt’s eyes when confronted by Cochrane-Johnstone. The man had quickly changed his tune about there being any evidence, but the look on his face belied his words.
Sighing, Michael rubbed his hands over his face. He was losing his touch. It wasn’t like him to miss such an important clue. And he had been so impressed with himself when his plan to stumble upon the occupants of the office had worked so well. Seeing the admiration in Hope’s eyes had caused more than a moment of pride, as well, he admitted silently.
“I guess I was too distracted by the mention of De Berenger,” Michael said with some preoccupation, patting her knee distractedly. “Good work, my dear.”
“Thank you,” Hope said, clearly delighted by the compliment. “This ‘De Berenger’ they were talking about? You know of him?”
“Ah, not well, actually. I believe he is a Prussian aristocrat I have only met once, which is why I couldn’t quite place him at first, but now I am positive that the man posing as Du Bourg was, in fact, De Berenger.”
“Really?” Hope asked with excitement. “Now that is big news. You will need to alert the committee as soon as possible.”
“Yes, yes. I suppose you are right.”
“Michael? Is anything wrong?”
“Wrong?” Michael repeated uncertainly. “No, nothing is wrong, per se. I just cannot believe I missed what Butt had said to Cochrane and that you…” Michael trailed off slowly, looking at Hope guiltily.
“And that I…what?” Hope asked slowly. “That I did not miss it? Is that what you can’t believe?”
“Yes…no…oh, I don’t know.”
Sitting back and crossing her arms in a decidedly unfeminine manner, Hope looked at Michael accusingly. “Are we back to women not being smart enough for spy work again? Or, no,” Hope corrected, “it was just me who couldn’t possibly be intelligent enough for this type of thing, right? Well, fie on you and fie on your archaic ideas.”
Angry and hurt beyond all measure, Hope moved as far away from Michael as she could and looked unseeingly out the window at the rapidly passing streets and buildings. Their carriage was successfully carrying them away from the City and ever closer to the lodgings of Richard Butt, but for Hope, the excitement of the day had been ruined, and more than anything she just wanted to go home.
Chapter Twelve
Everyone makes mistakes; a truly wise person learns from them.
~The Duke of Lancaster
Michael sat on his side of the carriage and watched Hope staring moodily out the window. He had done it again. He had managed to insult the woman in the most unforgivable manner. His pride had been pricked, and like a child, he had lashed out at the person nearest to him. Now he was going to have to find a way to apologize…and he had a feeling it was going to have to be a very good apology, indeed.
With a silent sigh, he slid across the seat until he was just in front of her. He took her hand and held it softly between his palms. Although she had not yet looked up to acknowledge him, Michael took her lack of resistance as a good sign.
“Hope?” Michael prompted softly, to which he received no response. Not even a flicker of movement anywhere in her countenance showed that she was even aware he was there. Disheartened, but not discouraged, Michael decided it was just as well that she was not looking at him. He would be better able to express his thoughts and sorrows not having to look into what was surely a luminous pair of deeply hurt eyes.
Taking a deep breath, he began his plea.
“My dear Hope, I find I must apologize for being a colossal ass, yet again. I do not know what came over me except my own pride. I should not have missed the clue that you so brilliantly ferreted out, and in my state of disappointment in myself, I turned on you. It is not something of which I am proud. You are the most surprising woman—bright, kind, loyal, and beautiful. Why should I begrudge the fact that you discovered something I had not?”
Michael stopped there and waited. Hope was as still and cold as marble and he desperately wondered what she was thinking.
…
Hope felt numb and unable to move even the tiniest of muscles. More than anything she wanted to forgive Michael, to smile and throw her arms around him. It was in her nature to be forgiving, after all. But this hurt went deeper than even she supposed, because she could not bring herself to do so this time. She was so tired of being thought of as less than what she was.
It wasn’t until she met Lady Lancaster and the other girls of the Society that she realized how much she disliked being thought of as dependable, proper, pretty, and complacent. She wanted to be bright, witty, and stunning. Known for her clever repartee and great charm. She wanted to find a man who appreciated her for the lady she was in public, but all the while privately aware of her intelligence and cunning in other matters. She was a spy, for goodness sakes. Not something your typical thoughtless ninny should be able to achieve.
This was what she secretly wanted and she was suddenly discovering that it was also something she deserved.
Apparently, her continued silence did not sit well with Michael and he began anew with vigor. “Please, Hope. You must forgive me. And not because it is what is expected of a proper gentlewoman, but because I…I care about you. I mean, I was hoping we were becoming friends and I would hate to lose our new found camaraderie over my own stupid pride.”
As Michael continued his impassioned discourse, tears began to stream down Hope’s cheeks. Maybe he did see her as she wanted to be seen. Maybe he did think of her as
more than just an obedient woman, to be seen but not heard. Maybe he truly wanted a partner and friend as much as she did. Perhaps her romantic notions of this man weren’t all folly. It was a rare man indeed who could apologize so sincerely.
Unable to listen to another second of his litany of apologies, Hope said softly, “Oh Michael, hush now. It’s all right. We are both on edge…”
Her heart in her throat, Hope was unable to continue; but it hardly mattered, for Michael was already pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Hope pushed weakly against him. Yes, she was ready to be his friend, but this…this was too much, too soon. She had no idea what was going on in his head, much less his heart.
But then he did something magical with his tongue and she was lost.
Overcome by passion as she was, Hope had no idea how long she had let the madness continue until the carriage came to a sudden, jolting halt. Breaking away to look out the window in surprise, she realized they had reached their destination. Hope waited for mortification to set in, but instead she felt strangely invigorated. That didn’t stop her from blushing when she saw Michael looking at her with what could only be termed a dawning look on his face. Goodness, she wished she could read minds.
Ducking her head shyly, Hope endeavored to put herself to rights. She reached up to smooth her hair back before replacing her hat, which had been knocked off at some point during their heated embrace, and then she turned her attentions to her skewed clothing.
…
Michael watched as Hope set about arranging herself and he could not help but smile. She may be dressed as a gentleman, but she was good and truly a woman. No amount of disguise would ever extinguish his desire for her. It was a disturbing thought, actually. He needed to get his wits about him. The odds that Hope would see him as an acceptable husband were slim. She was a proper lady, and he was barely a viscount. And if he couldn’t marry her, then he should keep his hand off her. For his sanity if not for her sensibilities. She mustn’t be led to think he cared for her.
Hope glanced up to catch Michael looking at her and she smiled. He tried to return the gesture, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded.
Looking out the window again at the modest building in which Mr. Butt apparently resided, Michael said, “I suppose we should come up with a plan on how to gain access to Butt’s rooms.”
Following Michael’s line of sight, Hope nodded in agreement. “Well, I know from previous visits with my father that he rents just a small set of rooms and only employs a housekeeper and valet, so perhaps some ruse would be sufficient for one of them to allow us inside?”
“Yes, very good,” Michael replied. “We can say we had a meeting with him and ask to wait until he arrives.”
“That seems a logical plan,” Hope agreed. “Shall we be on our way?”
“Yes,” Michael replied as he started for the door, but he stopped suddenly and turned back to Hope. “We are all right, are we not? I feel as if our previous conversation ended a bit…abruptly.”
Hope softened her smile and expression. “Yes, Michael. I know what you mean by feeling unfinished, but truly, all is forgiven and forgotten.” Then flushing slightly, she added boldly, “Besides, I rather liked how our previous conversation ended.”
Michael could not have been more shocked by her allusion to their earlier passion than if it had been uttered by, say, Elizabeth. His proper young lady had a wicked streak. How marvelous, that. Perhaps—but no, one comment in passing was not enough on which to pin his hopes. Michael put on a grin he didn’t quite feel. “I am more than willing to end all of our conversations thusly, if you so desire it, my dear.” He winked lustily at her and then laughed as Hope’s slight coloration turned into a full-fledged bloom. Not able to look Michael in the eye, Hope began adjusting her costume again. Michael was convinced that she could not believe what she had said, either. But suddenly, Hope stopped her embarrassed fussing around and instead looked at Michael with a sunny and downright proud smile. “Well, sir, shall we be going?”
Losing his footing in the face of another of Hope’s smiles, Michael all but fell out of the carriage.
“Michael! Are you all right?”
Steadying himself by placing his hand on the side of the carriage, Michael brushed off Hope’s question and began to help her down, but she shooed him off. “I’m a gentleman at the moment, remember?” she reminded him, flashing their watchful driver a “nothing is amiss” grin.
Michael quickly backed away and adopted an airy whistle of nonchalance. Despite his looking very much the fool, he found the whole situation rather humorous.
When Hope reached his side, he couldn’t help but whisper in a teasing fashion, “You must forgive my lapse, dear, considering our recent actions. I very rarely do what we were doing with my companions of the male persuasion.”
Falling into step beside Michael as they made their way up to the front stoop, Hope replied with affected seriousness, “Very rarely? You do realize it sounds as if you ‘do what we were doing’ with your male companions occasionally…however rarely…when you put it that way.”
Michael gave Hope an arch look and, seeing the twinkle in her eyes, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Touché, my dear,” he replied with a nod and a grin.
Having entered the building and found the door to Butt’s apartments, Hope and Michael calmed their high spirits and rang the bell. After waiting a moment or two, the two looked at each other in surprise. Could it be that no one was home?
“I’ll try it again,” Michael said quietly.
Hope nodded and Michael rang the bell a second time. What if no one was there to let them in? They would never be guaranteed this opportunity again. Surely when Mr. Butt returned home that evening, he would immediately dispose of whatever incriminating information he had. He would be a fool not to. Frankly, Michael thought him a bit foolish as it was for keeping what he had, however lucky it was for them.
Michael pulled out a set of small tools. Using two of the long, thin picks, he was quickly able to tumble the locking mechanism. The door swung open silently.
Looking at it in surprise and then at Michael, Hope said, “However did you do that?”
Tucking the small flat packet back into the inner pocket of his jacket, Michael replied glibly, “Just another one of the proficiencies I picked up working for the war office. Now shall we get what we came for before someone returns home?”
Hope readily agreed and the two slowly pushed the door open, as if expecting someone to jump out at them at any minute. After a quick glance around confirmed that the apartment was indeed unoccupied, they took their first tentative steps inside and closed the door behind them.
The apartment was not very big, but it appeared quite serviceable. There were four rooms that opened off the small foyer. A living/sitting area connected to a small dining room on the right half of the suite; and on the left, a study that adjoined a modest sized bedroom. Eschewing the other rooms with just the barest of looks, Michael and Hope turned their focus to the small study.
…
Having decided by unspoken agreement that Michael would act as lookout, Hope quickly and carefully began rifling through Mr. Butt’s desk drawers. Nothing of consequence appeared in the first two drawers she looked in and when she reached for the bottom drawer, Hope was dismayed to find it locked. Almost immediately, however, her dismay turned to excitement. Where better to hide incriminating evidence than in a locked drawer?
Spurred on by the thought, Hope abandoned the drawers and began searching for the key. It was probable that Mr. Butt carried it on him, but Hope figured the man’s penchant for idiocy was ample enough reason for a quick investigation of the small decorative canisters and boxes that littered the edge of his desk. Still, even she was surprised when, on her third try, she found what looked to be a desk key.
“Quite a silly place to hide a key…on top of that which it unlocks,” Hope muttered to herself as she reached down and slid the key into the lock and gave it a turn. It moved
easily and silently and she was rewarded with a now opened drawer full of a large collection of file folders.
“Did you say something?” Michael inquired from the doorway.
“Hmm?” Hope murmured, looking up from the pile of papers she had pulled from the drawer. “Oh, no. Just commenting on Mr. Butt’s intelligence…or lack thereof.”
“You found the evidence then?”
“I am not quite sure what I have found yet,” Hope replied honestly. “No, the event I am referring to was his leaving the key to his locked drawer in a box on top of his desk.”
“No, he didn’t,” Michael groaned in disbelief.
Hope just raised her brows, lifted the box in question, and shook it meaningfully.
Michael rolled his eyes and snorted in derision. “Not the man I would want advising me on my finances. That is certain.”
“Agreed. In fact, I believe I will talk to my father about the inadvisability of working with Mr. Butt in the future…” Hope’s voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying. “Although, I suppose that is really no longer a concern, is it?”
Hope raised her eyes to Michael’s and gave him a look of chagrin. She had nearly forgotten about her father’s possible involvement in this whole mess. She supposed his having to find a new financial adviser was the least of his potential problems.
Shaking her head, Hope waved a suddenly concerned-looking Michael back to his surveillance and turned to the piles of paper before her. Now was not the time to become melancholy. They had a job to do…one that could very well clear her father’s name, so she had best get back to it.
Within moments of reading, Hope found exactly what they needed to prove the hoax and those involved. She found pages of stocks and prices. She saw a rough graph of price fluctuations based on dates that she was willing to bet were the dates of the previous Napoleon’s death rumors. One folder contained a list of names; some crossed out and others underlined. There were even a number of handwritten letters from Cochrane-Johnstone addressed to Mr. Butt.
Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount (Entangled Scandalous) Page 9