Nowhere Near Respectable

by Mary J. Putney

  His friend studied the neat rows of letters. “You’re right, and it’s a code I’ve worked with before. Your merry band of smugglers are a busy lot. Give me a moment and perhaps I can decipher some of it.”

  Mackenzie sniffed at the chamber in the hilt. “There’s a trace of fragrance here. Can you identify it, Lady Kiri?” He handed her both parts of the dagger.

  She closed her eyes to concentrate on the scent. “It’s very faint. I might be able to tell more from the paper.”

  Kirkland handed over the message. She rolled it tight again and sniffed. Her eyes snapped open. “The cologne is Alejandro, and the scent is exactly the same as the leader of the kidnappers.”

  Mackenzie gave a low whistle. “If your bloodhound nose is correct, the kidnappers are also using Hawk’s band of smugglers as a conduit to and from France. Do you think the leader was in the cave when we were there?”

  Kiri thought back to the night she was captured. During the time she’d been chained to the wall, she’d observed the smugglers carefully, though most didn’t get close enough that she could smell them. Not that she would have wanted to, since they were a fishy lot. “It’s possible, but I didn’t see or smell anyone who smelled or moved like the leader. You were the only man I met who seemed like a gentleman.”

  “The fellow probably wasn’t there,” Mac said. “I wonder which of the smugglers is his courier. Most are loyal Englishmen, but some would do anything for money.”

  Kirkland had reclaimed the message and scrutinized it closely before he swore, “Damnation! My apologies for the language, Lady Kiri. This is a much larger plot than we realized. Not only do they want to kidnap Princess Charlotte—they also aim to assassinate the prince regent and as many of his brothers as possible.”

  Kiri gasped. “That would throw Britain into chaos!”

  Mackenzie looked as shocked as Kiri felt. “The king mad, the prince regent and the royal dukes dead, the heiress to the throne a prisoner in France—it’s unimaginable.”

  “Even the plotters can’t predict what would happen if they achieve all their goals,” Kirkland said grimly. “But there would be chaos. They may hope to bring down the Tory government. The Whigs have always have been less supportive of the war.”

  “They’re fools,” Mackenzie said flatly. “If they succeed in their assault on the royal family, everyone in Britain will rise up to attack France. Small children will throw stones and grannies will wield canes and skillets. The war won’t end until Paris has fallen and Napoleon is in chains.”

  “They don’t understand British stubbornness,” Kirkland said. “But while they may be fools in their policy, that doesn’t mean they can’t be successful in striking down the prince regent and some of the royal dukes. They must be stopped.”

  “You’ll need to throw every man you have after the plotters.” Mackenzie sighed. “I think it best if I die.”

  Chapter 15

  Kiri stared at Mac, appalled. “I hope you don’t mean that literally.”

  “I don’t, but it might be best if the world thinks I was killed here tonight.” He grimaced. “That’s why I stayed out of sight until we could talk. The man who was shot in the face is pretty close to my size and build, and dressed in a similar way. If you identified him as me, Kirkland, no one would doubt it.”

  “Probably not,” Kirkland agreed, frowning. “But why pretend you’re dead?”

  “I foolishly swore at the kidnappers in French, so they must know I heard what they said about getting Princess Charlotte another time. If they think I’m dead, they’ll feel safer. Enough shots were fired to make it believable that I was hit.”

  “But they’ll be missing the man who was killed,” Kiri pointed out. “Won’t they realize that it wasn’t you who died, but their man?”

  “My guess is that the boxers will disappear into the London stews, and the leader won’t know who died and who ran away,” Mackenzie explained. “If I change my identity, I can go to places where Damian Mackenzie would be far too noticeable.”

  “You’re a well-known figure in London,” Kiri agreed, not liking the idea of him dead even if it was pretend. “Those eyes of yours are an instant identification.”

  “My mother was an actress, and I’m good at disguise.” Mackenzie added more whiskey to his glass. “The lead kidnapper looked like a gentleman and a gambler, and at least one of his men might be a professional boxer. There is a decent chance of finding them at gambling hells, boxing matches, or other sporting venues.”

  Kiri could imagine him swaggering through rough places, ready to take down any other man there, but she doubted he’d have much luck finding the plotters. He hadn’t seen enough of them.

  An idea struck her, as alarming as it was fascinating. She turned it around, thinking hard. Yes, she wanted to do this. “You need my help. It doesn’t sound as if you can identify any of those men by sight since they were masked and you got only a quick glimpse of them. I need to be with you because I saw them better, and I can provide much better identification by their scents.”

  Mac stared at her, his expression horrified. “You couldn’t possibly go to the places where I’ll be searching!”

  Amused by his reaction, she asked, “Why not?”

  “Because you’re a lady!” he retorted. “Most of the establishments I’ll be searching are neither safe nor savory.”

  “Surely you noticed that I’m not unskilled at taking care of myself,” she said reasonably. “If you and I are together, we’ll both be safer than either of us would be alone. And having me could be the difference between success and wasted time.”

  Before Mackenzie could protest further, Kirkland said thoughtfully, “Her ability could be useful. At the moment, we have very little to go on.”

  “Her family would forbid it!” Mackenzie exclaimed. “Ashton and General Stillwell are both very protective.”

  So was Mackenzie, apparently. “I’m of legal age,” Kiri pointed out. “They may disapprove, but they can’t stop me.”

  “You’d stand out like a swan in a chicken coop,” Mackenzie said.

  Kiri thought fondly of Sergeant O’Neil, the general’s regimental sergeant major. She’d learned so much from him. She’d also observed the camp followers to be found around any army. It took only a moment for her to shift her posture from lady to slut, the rounding of her spine and the looseness of her knees suggesting coarseness and vulgarity. “You think I can’t look like an Irish bit o’ muslin?” she said in a perfect Irish accent.

  Mac stared. “Where on earth did you learn to act and sound like a Dublin doxy?”

  “Remember that I was raised in army cantonments in India, and many of the soldiers were Irishmen.” She grinned wickedly. “They liked my dark hair and green eyes. Said I looked a proper colleen. I spent a good bit of time with the enlisted men and learned many interesting things.”

  “And General Stillwell allowed this?” Kirkland asked with fascination.

  She straightened into an innocent young lady again. “My father was a very busy man. How could he possibly know where I was at all times?”

  “If he’d had any sense, he would have locked you in your room until you were twenty-five,” Mackenzie growled. “Better yet, fifty.”

  “Lady Kiri wouldn’t be anywhere near as interesting if he’d done that.” Kirkland studied Kiri with cool calculation in his eyes. “She has a better chance of identifying the kidnappers than you or I do, Mac.”

  Mackenzie plowed his fingers through his hair with a sigh of exasperation. “Maybe the theory is sound, but I can’t imagine Lady Kiri waltzing out of Ashton House to accompany me to different stews every night.”

  “Adam and Mariah are going to his country seat soon, and my family will go with them,” Kiri said. “I can stay quietly in London and anyone who cares about my whereabouts would assume I’d gone to Ralston Abbey with everyone else.”

  “I have a house on Exeter Street, near Covent Garden, that’s available for associates of mine who ne
ed a quiet refuge,” Kirkland said. “You could both stay there, since you also will need a place to go to ground, Mac.”

  Mackenzie stared at Kiri, even more appalled. “We can’t possibly stay under the same roof! If that became known, she’d be ruined forever.”

  “You worry about my reputation more than I do,” Kiri said tartly. “Surely the fates of Britain and the royal family are more important than that.”

  “You wouldn’t be alone in the house,” Kirkland added. “Besides the couple who take care of the house, Cassandra is staying there. I’m going to ask her to remain in London and help us locate the plotters. So Lady Kiri will be adequately chaperoned.”

  “Cassandra is an amazing agent, but . . . a chaperone?” Mackenzie said in such an incredulous way that Kiri immediately wanted to meet the woman.

  “Her presence would settle any question of propriety if the situation became known,” Kirkland said. “And increase Kiri’s protection.”

  Mackenzie’s snort demonstrated his opinion of that. Catching Kiri’s gaze, he said vehemently, “This will be a dangerous investigation, Lady Kiri. It’s not a game or an adventure. You risk a great deal, up to and including your life. Unless you truly think you can help catch these villains, you should abstain. Because of who and what you are, Kirkland and I and others will try to protect you, which increases our risk. Are you sure you want to ask that of us?”

  Kiri’s amusement vanished. The thought of Mackenzie getting himself killed in her defense made her heart clench. But instead of changing her resolve, it stirred her temper. “Why is it only men who are allowed to take risks for the greater good? I am not a china doll to be set on a shelf and forgotten! I may be able to help, and you gentlemen are going to need all the help you can get.”

  “She’s right,” Kirkland said. “We need to work fast and well. Lady Kiri is beautiful and well born, but she also has a warrior heart and a very valuable skill.”

  With a sigh, Mackenzie surrendered. “I suppose you’re right, but I don’t have to like it.” He got to his feet while directing a scowl toward Kiri. “I sincerely hope that General Stillwell locks you in your room, but I suppose that won’t happen. Will you at least discuss this with your family? Maybe one of them will be more persuasive than I.”

  “Of course I’ll discuss it with them.” Though they wouldn’t change her mind.

  “I’ll be off, then. Kirkland, will you let Will know he shouldn’t believe the obituaries? An officer serving in Spain doesn’t need distractions.”

  “I’ll send him a circumspect note,” Kirkland promised. “What are your plans for faking your death?”

  “I’ll move the bodies out into the alley behind the building,” Mackenzie said. “Then I’ll arrange them to look like they killed each other.”

  “After you do that, you’ll need to go to ground quickly.” Kirkland produced a key from an inside pocket. “You know where to find the house. Here’s a key.”

  Mackenzie grinned. “I’ve stayed at Exeter Street before. Did you think I wouldn’t have had a spare key made?”

  Kirkland laughed and pocketed the key again. “How remiss of me not to realize.”

  Tonight’s adventure was over, and Kiri realized that she was exhausted. “I think I have reached my limit of amazement for now.” She covered a yawn. “May I have that escort home? I’ll need all my strength to persuade my parents that I’m needed by king, princess, and country.”

  “If you were always an obedient daughter, you wouldn’t be here tonight,” Mackenzie said dryly.

  “True.” Kiri smiled mischievously. “But I try not to alarm them more than is absolutely necessary.”

  “I’ll summon a carriage now.” Kirkland also stood. “Mac, I’ll see you at Exeter Street. When you see Cassandra, tell her about this plot. She might have some good thoughts on the matter.”

  “She always has thoughts.” After Kirkland left the office, Mackenzie opened his hidden safe to collect the fifty guineas he’d put there earlier. Turning to Kiri, he said, “If you’ll excuse me, I must go and rearrange some bodies.”

  Kiri grimaced as she stood. “That will be grisly. Will you be all right?”

  “Do you mean will I pass out again?” His lips twisted. “I won’t enjoy it, but other people’s blood doesn’t bother me anywhere near as much as my own.”

  Yet he lingered, his gaze on Kiri. He looked as if he was torn between fleeing or kissing her. Kiri would welcome the kiss, though it would be foolish beyond belief to encourage this unruly attraction, especially when they might share a roof for a time.

  “I’ll leave before I get us both into trouble,” he said. “Kirkland will keep you informed.”

  “Take care.” She extended one hand. “I shouldn’t like you to be more dead than you are now.”

  He took her hand between both of his, his clasp warm and protective. “No need to worry. I have demonstrated repeatedly that I’m difficult for the ungodly to kill.”

  “The ungodly only have to get it right once, Mr. Mackenzie.”

  “You truly are one of a kind, Lady Kiri,” he said wryly. “There’s no need to be concerned for me tonight. I live in the building next door, and there’s a private entrance to a room that has everything I need to change my identity. By the time I leave for Exeter Street, only someone who knows me very well indeed might recognize me.”

  “If you don’t change your scent, I’ll know who you are,” she said, eyes glinting.

  “The only noses that can compare with yours belong to bloodhounds.” He smiled. “And your nose is much prettier.”

  She bit her lip, perilously close to losing her control. “You’d best be going. The longer you’re here, the greater the chance you’ll be seen.”

  “Right. Leave. Now.” His hands tightened on hers. “Before I do something that I shouldn’t. Yes. I’m leaving now.”

  She said shakily, “Mr. Mackenzie. You’re still holding my hand.”

  “So I am.” Instead of letting go, he raised her hand and pressed his lips to the back of her fingers. Releasing her with reluctance, he added, “I trust that the next occasion when we meet will be less dramatic. Take care, my warrior maiden.”

  He closed the door quietly behind him, and was gone.

  Chapter 16

  Kiri knotted her hand into a fist, as if she could hold on to the feel of his mouth. She was staring at the door when Kirkland returned. “Your carriage awaits, Lady Kiri.”

  Feeling vastly tired, she collected her domino and followed him from the office. He led her to a side entrance where a carriage stood outside the door. On the box was one of Damian’s capable black-clad guards.

  As Kirkland helped Kiri into the carriage, she said, “You don’t need to escort me personally, Lord Kirkland. I’m sure your driver can be relied on to get me home, and I imagine you have much to keep you busy at the club tonight.”

  He swung into the carriage and took the facing seat. “I promised Miss Clarke-Townsend I’d personally bring you home.” And he was not a man to break his promises. “Do you want me present when you discuss what you’ll be doing with your family?”

  “An ally?” she said wryly. “I’ll need one. I’ll speak to Adam at breakfast if he’s available. Your presence would add an air of gravitas to the discussion.”

  “I’ll stop by then.”

  As the carriage rattled into motion, she studied Kirkland in the dim light. He was a remarkably handsome man, and he had more interesting edges than she’d realized. Yet when he touched her, it was like being touched by—her brothers. It was Mackenzie who turned her brain to steaming gruel.

  With a quiet sigh, she settled back into her leather seat. Life would be easy if she and Kirkland fell in love. He was wealthy, well born, and one of her brother’s best friends. A marriage between them would be welcomed by everyone.

  There was something to be said for arranged marriages, she realized. Relying on attraction and love was much more untidy. It made women long for unsuitable men who h
ad nothing to commend them but intelligence, humor, ravishing attractiveness. . . .

  Getting a firm grip on her wandering mind, she asked, “Do you think we can stop the plotters before they assassinate members of the royal family? Most of the royal dukes are as useless as they are expensive, but Princess Charlotte offers hope for the future.”

  “If she goes to Windsor, I think she’ll be safe,” Kirkland said. “Her father and uncles are in more danger because they are out and about Town. They’re also a stubborn lot and might refuse to believe they’re in danger. All we can do is our best. While this conspiracy is well organized, there can’t be a huge number of people involved.”

  “I assume that you will be tracing the plotters by all possible means.” Kiri tried to make out Kirkland’s austere features. “How did you become involved in the spying trade? The challenge of matching wits? The desire to contribute?”

  “All of those things, I suppose.” He sighed. “Someone needs to do this work.”

  “But why you?”

  After a long silence, he said, “Mostly it was an accident. Have you heard Ashton or another Westerfield student mention Wyndham?”

  “The classmate lost when the Peace of Amiens ended? He haunts you all.”

  Kirkland gave a faint, humorless smile. “He’s the ghost who may or may not be dead. Wyndham was exuberant and very likable. Wild, but no malice in him. Before going to France, he organized a reunion of Westerfield students for when he returned. After leaving Lady Agnes, we’d all gone in different directions, and we looked forward to getting together again. Students from the two classes following were also invited since the school was so small we all knew each other well.”

  “But Wyndham never returned,” she said softly.

  “France was in chaos when the truce ended.” He hesitated, and Kiri guessed that he was deciding how much to tell her.

  He continued, “Because of my family shipping connections, I made inquiries to see if I could trace Wyndham in France. Though I wasn’t successful, I found other information that might interest the foreign office.”