Charming the Spy (Scandals and Spies Book 4)

by Leighann Dobbs

  “You must have spent a lot of time with those plants.”

  The boy gave a noncommittal shrug. “No more than you, I’m sure, sir. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do or the cook will yell.”

  Did Mr. Dowden have a temper he kept well-hidden? The jovial man seemed in a delighted mood as he slowly put together a tray for Rocky to take back to the hothouse with her as they resumed work. The scullery boy turned his back on the entire kitchen, his shoulders hunched as if he hoped to turn invisible while he attended to his work.

  Might Monsieur V be taking advantage of his youth and timid personality? It was a possibility Catt wanted to avoid mentioning to Rocky at all costs. She had a soft spot for young men and women taken advantage of in the work place. She had once been that young and forced to work at an unsavory job, too.

  He met her gaze as he approached her and Mr. Dowden. He never wanted to have to remind her of that time in her past. Not if he could help it. He would investigate that particular lead on his own.

  Chapter 11

  Catt laid a restraining hand on Rocky’s arm as he noticed her tense to start forward. Footsteps lingered, growing fainter and fainter as the last members of the household filed out on their way to Church. In the shadows of the stairwell, Rocky cast him a quizzical look. He shook his head, his mouth flat, as he cocked his ear to listen. He wanted to be sure before they started their search.

  Sunday morning was perhaps the only time when the entire household, including Lady Belhaven and her relatives, would be out of the house. In truth, Catt was happy to see Kenneth, Stanley and another young man who he assumed was Lady Belhaven’s other grandson Lance accompany her. Though he knew relationships were strained, they seemed happy together this morning.

  Lady Belhaven had made a stop into the hot-house early in the morning acting coy and asking if they’d learned anything new from Lady Montrose. For a moment, Catt thought she might be referring to the code in the lily, but then he realized her question had deeper meaning. It was as if she were fishing about to see if Lady Montrose had counseled Catt and Rocky as a couple. But why would she do that if she had a rule against relationships within her staff?

  It was clear Lady Belhaven’s health was failing and possibly her memory. Her actions and words might not have any meaning. He didn’t have time to ponder that, though. If they were to search through the possessions of the staff for anything that might point to Monsieur V, they had to do it quickly. The staff would notice their absence from Church if they didn’t make an appearance, too.

  When he was certain that the only sounds were those of the wind against the walls, he nodded to Rocky. “Let’s make this quick.”

  “We should stay in the same room. If we split up, we’ll spend more time wondering if the sounds we make are each other or someone returning.”

  He nodded. “Agreed.”

  If she was surprised that he agreed to her idea instantly, she didn’t show it. She led the way down the corridor and back to the men’s quarters.

  They entered the first room and started to search, each taking separate corners of the room and systematically moving through it until they met in the middle. Just as they were about to give up this room as a lost cause and rule out its owner for the time being—Stefan—a noise sounded from the hall. Was that…a crash? Catt met Rocky’s gaze. Her eyes were wide with alarm.

  Someone had returned home.

  His heartbeat quickened as panic overwhelmed him. Maybe they wouldn’t come this way.

  Footsteps sounded in the corridor. Two pairs, an irregular beat as if the couple jogged a few steps, paused, and then carried on.

  They might not enter the room, but he couldn’t take that chance. “Hide,” he mouthed to Rocky. She nodded, turning as she searched the room.

  The bed was narrow, built to fit only one person. Even if she could squeeze beneath, Catt wouldn’t be able to fit.

  The wardrobe was far too small for either of them.

  That left only one option—the heavy curtains pulled away from the window. If Stefan was the person who returned, he might notice if they were suddenly drawn across again. In fact, he might notice Catt’s feet sticking out of the bottom. As the intruders neared, Catt no longer had time to think. The curtain was the best option.

  He grabbed Rocky by the arm. She opened her mouth, likely to protest, but he spun her and pressed her against the window. He fumbled with the ties. In a panicked thrust of his arm, he hauled the drapes across the window, enclosing him and Rocky in the heavy fabric.

  In order to keep the drapes as flat as possible, he had to press against Rocky intimately. Her breasts were crushed against his ribs, his pelvis aligned with her stomach. He felt the beat of her heart acutely. The rapid pulse matched his own. She fit against him as if they’d been made to hold each other in this way.

  Madness.

  Rocky opened her mouth, but at that moment, the door to the room banged open against the wall. Catt clapped his hand across her mouth as a woman’s giggles, then a low moan punctured the air. Rocky’s eyes widened, her soft lips tickling his hand as she recognized the sounds of kissing. The mattress shifted as bodies fell onto it.

  Lawks. He and Rocky were trapped and the very erotic scene unfolding behind them couldn’t be ignored. He met her gaze. Light twinkled through the glass of the window, falling across her expression. He lowered his hand, exposing her mouth.

  The woman moaned, “Stefan,” confirming that the other party was, in fact, the owner of the room. Damn and blast! Why had they chosen his room first to search?

  Catt had no good excuse to offer for being here, no means of escape without detection. He was trapped, pressed against Rocky and unable to deny that he would rather be doing with her what Stefan was doing with his ladylove. Ever since they’d taken on this assignment and been thrust into the perils of spying alongside one another, Catt had started to think of her differently.

  At Tenwick Abbey, she spent so much of her energy ensuring that no one thought of her as a woman. She wore breeches, she took command, and she used her sharp tongue liberally. While they often found themselves in each other’s company, they rarely found themselves alone together. Gideon was always around, working on an assignment of his own.

  In Lady Belhaven’s house there was no Giddy to serve as a buffer between them. They grated on each other’s nerves. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her sometimes, but there were other times, like now, when he didn’t want to part from her. He only wanted to get closer.

  Thinking about kissing her was lunacy. If he tried while they were anywhere else, she would slap him and berate him for treating her like a woman, as if that made her somehow lesser. He didn’t know what sort of women she’d had cause to associate with, but all the women of his acquaintance were forged of steel. Felicia, Lady Graylocke, her daughter Lucy—none of them backed down in the face of something they wanted, and all remained poised under pressure, whether that pressure was the threat of an enemy spy or the machinations of High Society.

  Rocky… She was stronger than all the other women of his acquaintance put together, but for some reason, she seemed to think that very fact made her weak. Aside from a flaying or two when he misspoke or she misinterpreted his words, her demeanor in regards to her gender had never bothered him. But now…

  If a man wanted to kiss her, how would he do it without her thinking that he meant to disrespect her?

  Perhaps the only way would be to corner her behind a curtain, when she couldn’t make a sound without revealing their location.

  The air charged between them as she met his gaze. Was she as impacted by the romantic interlude taking place behind him as he was? Maybe she wouldn’t protest him kissing her at all. Licking his lips, he raised his hand to cup the side of her face. He bent, intending to meld his mouth to hers before she had the opportunity to make a sound.

  She gasped, retreating an inch to press against the window.

  The movement on the bed stilled. Damn and bl
ast!

  “Is someone there?” That was the woman’s voice. He remembered it, but couldn’t put his finger on the name of the person it belonged to.

  Catt met Rocky’s fearful gaze. He remained very still despite the fact that their mouths were mere inches apart. He didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that they stood there.

  A moment later after the rustle of clothing, the curtain was ripped aside. The wash of cool air crawled down his spine. He separated from Rocky, trying to use his body to shield her from sight. Not that she allowed him to do that. No, she was bent on exposing herself by stepping up to stand in front of him.

  Miss Towney, on the other hand, flew her colors from behind Stefan’s shoulder. Their clothes were a bit disheveled, their hair was mussed, and her mouth was as pink as her cheeks.

  For a moment they stared at each other, not speaking. Catt hoped that Rocky’s quick mind would jump into action with an excuse, because he drew a blank. If Stefan was Monsieur V he could now know with utmost certainty that Catt and Rocky suspected him.

  To Catt’s surprise, the first words out of Stefan’s mouth weren’t an accusation. “Please don’t tell Lady Belhaven.”

  Catt exchanged a glance with Rocky. Her ominous expression turned into one of puzzlement. “Because romantic entanglements are discouraged in the household?”

  “Exactly,” the young blonde woman gushed. She fished a necklace out from beneath her chemise. A ring dangled on the end. “We’re married. Have been for a couple weeks.” She and Stefan exchanged a tight glance. He reached for her hand, squeezing it with a fond expression.

  He added, “We hope to tell the staff—and Lady Belhaven, too—but we’ve been waiting for the right moment. We don’t want to be turned out.”

  “This explains why you were in the hothouse when we left the manor.”

  It did? Catt glanced at Rocky with a frown.

  Blushing, the blonde nodded. “It’s so hard to find time alone with everyone watching. We try to keep up appearances as if there is nothing going on between us, but…” She glanced up at her husband, helpless and obviously in love. “Before you came, the hothouse was relatively empty most of the time since Lady Belhaven can only work in short spurts. When he’s instructed to go there for flowers…well…we take what privacy we can.”

  Catt sighed. They’d been in the hothouse for a romantic interlude, much like now.

  Donning a fearful sort of bravado, Stefan said, “You’d best keep our secret if you don’t want us to spill the fact that you’re up to the same thing.”

  A bullish expression overcame Rocky’s face, though her cheeks flushed with color. “We aren’t—”

  Catt wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hauled her into his side, temporarily silencing her. “Going to spill your secret. Next time I’ll have to make doubly sure I’m walking into the right room.”

  Catt was lucky his resided next to Stefan’s.

  Stefan laughed as Catt herded Rocky toward the door. Their search had been cut short, but at least their true secret was intact. Given the way Rocky bristled, however, this didn’t bode well for their working relationship.

  Apparently she liked the thought of people believing they were romantically involved even less than she liked the notion of being exposed for a spy. That, if nothing else, convinced Catt that he was wrong to ever have tried to kiss her.

  There was no circumstance he could devise where she might welcome it.

  Chapter 12

  Pretending she hadn’t felt something for Catt when she’d been pressed up against him yesterday worked much better when Rocky wasn’t trying to fool herself. For all of Sunday, she’d tried to scour her brain of the memory of his body against hers, the feel of his breath near her lips. Every time, it returned, unbidden, to taunt her.

  Had he tried to kiss her yesterday? Did she want him to? They’d known each other for years without feeling remotely attracted to one another. In fact, they fought constantly and often hated each other…didn’t they? With jerky movements, she clipped several flowers and bundled them together in the bouquet she was preparing.

  Did she want him to kiss her? With any other man, she wouldn’t have thought twice about the question. Never had she found herself in a position where she’d craved a man’s kiss. The few times men—be they another member of the staff or a guest at Tenwick Abbey—had sought to pursue her for a romantic tryst, turning them down had been a simple decision. But this wasn’t any man. This was Catt… Rocky’s temple throbbed as she tried to discover at what point she’d started thinking of Catt differently.

  The ribbon tying the bouquet was askew. Gritting her teeth, she balanced the bouquet in her hands as she tried to redo it. It wasn’t working. Reluctantly, she marched to the front of the hothouse to ask for Catt’s help. She approached his tall, lanky form. She couldn’t see his expression, but even so, she was acutely aware of the fit of his dove-gray tailcoat and the way his breeches hugged his thighs.

  Stepping up beside him as he matched bouquets with cards from the senders, she mutely thrust the bouquet at him. He held it while she retied the ribbon. The matter was complete within seconds. She found the correct card and affixed it next to the ribbon. Catt placed it neatly in the line next to the other flowers to be delivered.

  He met her gaze briefly before he looked away, saying nothing.

  This is madness. Squaring her shoulders, she raised her chin and blurted, “Did you intend to kiss me yesterday?”

  Fiddlesticks! She should have phrased that better.

  His blue eyes seemed to turn darker as they fixed on her. Probably a trick of the shadows. His expression turned to stone as he surveyed her for an impossibly long moment.

  She held her breath, waiting for an answer.

  “No.”

  Only one word. He turned away immediately afterward, even though he had nothing with which to busy himself on that particular work bench.

  Her stomach sank. He couldn’t even look at her. How foolish was she to believe that he’d been attracted to her, even for a moment?

  That aching feeling rippling through her was not disappointment. It couldn’t be. After all, it was Catt. They hated each other. She slinked a step back to paw through the cards still left to fill. On each, they dictated which kind of flowers the buyer had ordered.

  Catt turned to pierce her with his gaze. “I never want you to think I mean any disrespect.”

  Because he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, whereas she’d been so consumed by the moment that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since? She shrugged, turning a cold shoulder to him. “It’s forgotten.”

  If only she could promise herself that she would forget about it as easily.

  Catt took a step closer. His body radiated heat and electricity. Her left side smoldered as if she was on the verge of igniting. She swallowed hard.

  “We should turn our attention to work.”

  “Indeed.” It was all they did, day in and day out. Work together. Sometimes cohesively, most of the time less so. Before this mission, she’d enjoyed revolving her life around work. Now…

  No. She still enjoyed it. At least, that was what she told herself. She didn’t need something more.

  She hazarded a glance at him, but it didn’t give her the answers she hoped for. “We’ll focus our efforts,” she muttered under her breath. “We’ll get this done.”

  The sooner they found Monsieur V, the sooner she and Catt could part ways. They would no longer be forced into each other’s company day in and day out. Even at Tenwick Abbey, she could avoid him and tend to her work. Even if, with the orangery out of commission, that work wasn’t as affluent as she would like. She would volunteer to clean out one of the most remote, forgotten sections of Tenwick Abbey.

  Maybe then she could forget the kiss that she didn’t want to happen.

  Chapter 13

  Of the male servants in Lady Belhaven’s household, nearly all were tall with brown hair. This didn’t make Catt and Ro
cky’s lives any easier. Even if they’d cleared Stefan of suspicion for the time being—considering that he devoted his free time to sneaking private moments with his wife, Catt didn’t believe he could find the time to perform the tasks of a French spy, let alone a spymaster—they still had a handful of other servants to investigate. Not to mention Lady Belhaven’s grandsons. Discussing the possibility of pursuing David only led to an argument between Catt and Rocky, so they focused their attention on another man: Michael Hollander, the hostler and Lady Belhaven’s driver.

  Hollander, tall, fit, and with hair that might be considered brown or black depending on the light, constantly entered the hothouse when he retrieved bouquets to deliver to Lady Belhaven’s clients. He had ample opportunity to hide a code in certain plants. At meals, he usually ate by himself, standoffish and rarely contributing to the conversation at large.

  Since Catt had been able to approach David and get him to open up so easily, he opted to try cozying up to Hollander as well. Rocky argued with him, believing she could do it better, but Catt ultimately won out. If he didn’t get any information from Hollander, Rocky was never going to let him hear the end of it.

  In fact, she lingered at his heels as he crossed to the front closet to fetch his coat.

  “You don’t have to follow me. I won’t forget what I’m supposed to be doing.”

  She grabbed her pelisse from the closet as well. “How do you plan to occupy David so you can speak with Hollander alone?”

  He hadn’t thought of that. The fellow was unlikely to loosen his tongue if there were others around to hear. He stifled a sigh. “You intend to engage with David?”

  She flashed him a triumphant smile. “I will. Perhaps I’ll glean something from him that you haven’t.”