Charming the Spy (Scandals and Spies Book 4)

by Leighann Dobbs

  He went to bed alone, even though he couldn’t stop thinking of her.

  Chapter 15

  One minute, Catt was kissing Rocky like she was air and he’d been underwater too long. The next, he was walking away from her in disgust. What was she to think? Unfortunately, that conundrum had plagued her all night long. Despite hours of tossing and turning, she still didn’t know. She could barely decipher her own feelings, let alone his.

  She knew what it felt like to kiss him now, but that didn’t make the tension between them any better. If anything, it made it worse. From the moment he’d stepped into the breakfast room this morning, it was as if the rest of the world had melted away, leaving only the two of them. The chasm in her chest had widened, growing hungry for something she didn’t even want to think about.

  The only reason he’d kissed her had been because of the perfume. So what was her excuse? He must think her a hoyden for wrapping her arms around him and kissing him back with such ferocity. Now that morning had dawned and she’d washed away all trace of the perfume, there was nothing to draw him to her. Did he think of their kiss as a mistake?

  He must, because he could barely look at her. He treated her stiffly, and they soon agreed that working in separate corners of the room would be best. This time, she took the work bench near the door. It was also nearer to the oven, making the hair at the nape of her neck damp with sweat, but she didn’t mind. Better too hot than too cold.

  Catt worked without looking at her, fetching bouquets to match to the orders and leaving them on the bench for her to tie and arrange for delivery. As he left another such bouquet, she reached for it with a murmured, “Thank you.” Their hands brushed. A tingle swept over her skin. For a moment, they locked gazes. Then he turned away and took clipped steps across the room.

  Hell and damnation! They couldn’t work like this. But, given the lack of progression in their search and with the masquerade ball looming in a few short days, they had to think of something. If Monsieur V was not caught before he could pass the information on to the other spy, Rocky shuddered to think of what might happen to England. She couldn’t let the Graylocke’s, or her country, down.

  After last night, though, they could barely look at each other, let alone communicate their ideas. Every time Rocky met his gaze, she remembered the vulnerable way he’d looked a second before he’d brushed his mouth against hers, as if he was confused by his desire to kiss her.

  And well he should be, because the only reason he’d felt that way had been because of Felicia’s blasted perfume! Even if it had worked yesterday to loosen Hollander’s tongue, Rocky couldn’t entertain the notion of using it again during the course of the investigation. What if Catt gave in to the instincts roused by the perfume and next time they did more than kiss? It would be disastrous to their friendship.

  But undoubtedly a night to remember. Rocky lowered her head, biting her lip hard to try to regain her senses. He was her friend and partner in this assignment, nothing more. After this was over, she would have a talk with the Duke of Tenwick or Gideon and tell them in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t work with Catt again.

  That was, if she could even survive this mission with him. Her reaction to him boggled the mind.

  The door to the hothouse opened. Rocky barely gave it a thought as she laid the finished bouquet in line with the others. The servants entered so many times per day that so long as she recognized their faces and ensured that the only place they went to was the bouquets, she didn’t give them a second thought. She stepped back to let whatever servant had entered choose the bouquets to deliver.

  The newcomer wasn’t one of the servants. Nor was it Lady Belhaven, come to check on their work for the umpteenth time this morning. Rocky had never seen this man before in her life. Who was he?

  There was something familiar about him in the square cut of his jaw and the shape of his nose. He wasn’t quite as tall as Catt, but had a similar lean build and dressed just as impeccably. Although the dowdy gray color of his clothes wouldn’t have drawn the eye, close up Rocky noticed that the cut fit him well enough to have been tailored and the material looked better made than anything a servant would wear. His dark brown hair was clipped short in a Brutus style haircut, matched with neatly groomed sideburns.

  If he noticed her standing there, he didn’t show it. With clipped steps he entered the room, letting the door fall shut behind him but not checking that it was properly closed. He ran his hands over the nearest potted plant, an orchid. Then he turned to the shelves containing dozens of plants, eyeing them as if he were looking for something.

  Rocky stiffened. Was he looking for a specific plant? Checking for a code? She had given the plants on this side of the hothouse a cursory inspection when she’d entered this morning. Catt had done the same on his side of the room. Neither of them had departed at the same time, the better to watch over whoever entered and exited. As far as she knew, there was no code to find.

  She cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon?” Who was this stranger?

  When he turned, his expression was so neutral it appeared severe. Although his eyes were brown, they seemed to pierce her with the same intensity as those of the Duke of Tenwick. “Who are you?” His tone was cold, clipped, and curt.

  Instinctively, she thrust back her shoulders and raised her chin. He wasn’t the first forbidding man who had taken offense at finding her in a position of authority. “I’m the lead botanist in Lady Belhaven’s household. This is my domain. Who are you?”

  He rounded on her. Although he clasped his hands behind his back, she felt as though she were being interrogated under threat of torture. Her back touched the worktable. She had nowhere to run.

  She would be showing weakness if she tried.

  “A botanist, you say?” He took a step closer. “How long have you been working here?”

  “A…a little over a week.”

  “Lady Belhaven hired you?”

  “Yes, temporarily from my former employer.”

  “Why did he let you leave?”

  She bristled. The duke had assigned her this position as a cover for her spying assignment, but she couldn’t confess that. This stranger made it sound as though she had been let go for inferior work. If that had been the case, she doubted she would have gotten the reference necessary for Lady Belhaven to have hired her.

  “There was an accident in the duke’s orangery and as a result it is out of commission until spring when the glass will be repaired.” Until then, she had been out of work. At least, work involving plants. Over the past few months, she and Catt had been busy being formally trained as spies for the Crown.

  “This duke was your former employer, then? Which duke?”

  She gritted her teeth. “The Duke of Tenwick. And he is still my employer. I am only on loan to Lady Belhaven for the duration of the winter.”

  “How long did you work for the duke?”

  “Years.”

  “How many years, exactly?”

  Catt strolled up from the far corner of the hothouse. Although he affected an easy demeanor, there was an edge to his voice and smile as he said, “I don’t see as that’s any of your business, friend.”

  The stranger’s eyebrow shot up as he turned to face Catt. “And you are?”

  Catt mirrored the man’s stiff stance. “Wondering who you are to come in here and harass my superior.”

  His superior? A small smile cracked across Rocky’s lips. How much had it cost him to say that?

  Some of the tension radiated away from her shoulders as the stranger answered.

  “I’m Lance Belhaven, grandson to the lady of the house. And, considering that she neglected to tell me that she’d hired on extra help, I am very surprised by your presence here. Where is my grandmother this morning?”

  “She keeps to her bedchamber or her favorite parlor for most of the day,” Rocky answered, leaving out the fact that Lady Belhaven often entered the hothouse several times a day and Catt escorted
her away again. After all, they had things well in hand. Lady Belhaven seemed to battle issues with her memory.

  Nodding curtly, Mr. Belhaven strode from the room without a word. Catt followed him, shutting the hothouse door forcefully. The moment it was shut, he turned to Rocky.

  “Are you all right?”

  He reached for her, almost as if he intended to caress her arm or pull her into his embrace. She took a small step away and wrapped her arms around her torso. She must be imagining it. After their kiss yesterday, he could barely look at her. He would never touch her like…

  Like a lover.

  She bit her lower lip, trying to get herself under control. Their kiss had changed the dynamic between them, just as she’d known it would. She shouldn’t have let him do it, but she hadn’t been able to resist. If he tried again…

  But he wouldn’t. She shouldn’t let herself believe something that might disappoint her later.

  “I’m fine,” she said, injecting her voice with steel. “He didn’t touch me.”

  “No, but he was far from friendly.”

  Rocky narrowed her eyes, staring at the door. “What if he had reason to be?”

  “What do you mean?” Catt stepped closer, but he didn’t attempt to touch her. Instead, he leaned his hip against the work table.

  She forced herself to look into his eyes. There was nothing there to alarm her. The same Catt she saw every day. “He was touching the plants, almost as though he was searching for one with a code. The duke would have told us if there was another Crown spy among the household.”

  Catt narrowed his eyes, but nodded slowly in agreement.

  “Then, in order to know that code, he must be a French spy.”

  Suspicion crossed Catt’s face as he also glanced toward the door, giving her his profile. Rocky took advantage of his distraction to admire the curve of his cheek and shape of his nose. When he turned back, she quickly looked away.

  “Are you certain that’s what he was doing?”

  “No, but we certainly can’t discount the possibility.”

  He straightened. His posture seemed stiffer than usual. “No, I suppose we can’t.”

  Rocky frowned. “You disagree.” She braced herself, waiting for the inevitable argument.

  “No, I agree with you wholeheartedly.”

  Then why was he standing that way?

  The door opened again, capturing their attention. This time it was one of the staff. Benjamin Faulker.

  He nodded. “I passed master Belhaven in the hallway. I trust he found what he wanted in here.”

  Actually, he’d left empty-handed. “I think he was looking for Lady Belhaven.”

  Faulker made a face. “Indeed. I’ve not seen him take an interest in the hothouse in all the years I’ve tended to Lady Belhaven and now twice in the span of a few days.” Faulker forced a smile. “Perhaps he is taking a new interest to have something in common with his grandmother. Lord knows they should all treat her better. She’s a fine woman.”

  “That she is,” Catt said.

  “Well, then, I’m here for Lady Hastings’ posies. Need to deliver them early today.”

  Rocky handed over the flowers and they watched Faulker leave.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Catt said.

  “Maybe Lance’s visits weren’t so innocent.”

  Catt turned to face her. “You’ve thought through the implications, of course.”

  Rocky nodded. “We’ve been looking among the staff, but if Lady Belhaven’s grandson is involved…”

  “We need to investigate the possibility that Lady Belhaven is also involved.”

  He looked as though he’d bitten a poisonous plant. Since they’d arrived, Catt had taken a shine to Lady Belhaven, treating her as he might his own grandmother. Truthfully, Rocky didn’t like the idea that she could be a traitor any more than he did.

  “She might not be.” She was, after all, bordering on senile with her memory loss. Not to mention that she was unsteady on her feet and unable to withstand the physical vigor that spying entailed. But even if she wasn’t directly involved, she could know of the involvement of the person in her house. She might be sheltering them, funding them, encouraging them.

  He beckoned to her as he stepped away from the work table. “Come here a moment. I’d like your opinion on something.”

  Rocky followed him as he led the way toward the hot brick oven. When there, he crouched beneath the shelving and reached in behind several pots. He pulled out a small terracotta pot. The scrawny-looking plant it contained was stripped of over half its leaves. It had only one small flower, an orange bloom.

  She frowned. “Is that a poppy?” It wasn’t a species she’d worked with often, but she recognized the shape of the flower and the construct of the leaves.

  “I thought so, too,” Catt answered as he replaced it. “I wanted a second opinion, in case I was wrong.”

  “Lady Belhaven has no other poppies. Why this one?”

  “My guess?” He raised his eyebrows. “For the leaves.”

  She frowned as she tried to recall if she’d ever read a paper on the properties of the leaves. Pursing her lips, she shook her head.

  He informed, “I’ve never tested the theory myself, but I’ve read that the leaves have hallucinogenic and calming properties. When brewed into a tea it can reduce anxiety and in stronger doses, relieve pain.”

  She rocked back on her heels and slowly straightened. “Why is it in Lady Belhaven’s hothouse? It certainly isn’t for the flower. Do you think that’s what Lance was looking for?”

  Whoever had hidden it hadn’t tended it well, given its dilapidated state.

  Catt stood as well. They were so close together that the heat of his body seeped into hers, even stronger than the oven at her back. Or, at the very least, more alluring. She followed him a few paces away from the hot brick wall.

  “Maybe. I don’t think Lady Belhaven put it there,” he said, keeping his voice low. Who did he think would hear? They were across the room from the door, which was shut tight.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Note the position. She wouldn’t have been able to easily bend and retrieve the leaves. And, given her skills, I imagine she would have been able to tend it better.”

  Rocky nibbled on her thumbnail as she nodded slowly. “I agree with you.”

  “Maybe Lance has an opiate problem?” Catt suggested.

  “Or maybe someone is using it to keep Lady Belhaven in a state of confusion.”

  “Or to keep her from feeling pain,” Catt suggested.

  “Could be either, but the question is, does it have anything to do with Monsieur V?”

  Chapter 16

  How were Rocky and Catt supposed to maintain a working relationship when every time she looked in his direction, she relived his kiss? She’d hoped after spending a full day working with him that the bizarre awareness afflicting her would fade. It hadn’t. If anything, it had grown stronger overnight. So strong, that she found it almost impossible to hide her attraction to him while they worked. She had to get away.

  Grabbing the watering can, she went on a circuit of the manor’s houseplants. As she reached Lady Belhaven’s favorite parlor, a footman left, walking in the opposite direction. She couldn’t tell who from the back of his head—most likely Stefan given the build. Rocky paused in the doorway. Lady Belhaven was in there, seated in her usual chair next to the fire. Her grandson, Stanley, lounged on the sofa next to her. He flipped through the pages of a book.

  The plants in this room were thriving, thanks to the care Lady Belhaven lavished on them. Rocky didn’t need to tend them. She started to take a step back, but the movement caught Stanley’s eye. When he looked up, he gave her a warm smile.

  “Do come in.”

  “Rocky,” Lady Belhaven greeted. She clasped her hands in front of her middle. “Is something amiss in the hothouse?”

  “No, all is well. I just came to check on the plants.”

>   And to escape from Catt’s presence for a moment. Rocky should have been searching for clues while away from Catt, but she didn’t know where to start. Was Lady Belhaven aware of the French spymaster in her midst?

  The old woman waved her hand toward the corner, where one of several ferns resided. “By all means, go ahead.”

  Rocky danced from foot to foot. “I don’t want to interrupt…”

  Stanley slipped his finger between the pages of the book as he closed it. He leaned against the back of the sofa, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Poppycock. You aren’t interrupting anything. I would feel like a heel if I kept a pretty woman from her work.”

  Rocky narrowed her eyes at him, but upon earning no rebuke from Lady Belhaven, she reluctantly entered the room. She would tend the plants here quickly so she could move on. If both Lady Belhaven and Stanley were occupied, then their rooms would be unattended. If there was anything to be learned in their private chambers, Rocky would discover it.

  Just as she watered the last plant in the room, another man entered the room. He was older than Stanley, but shared features with both Belhavens in the room. Most likely, this large, imposing man was Kenneth, Lady Belhaven’s son, who Catt had mentioned to her previously. Given his temperament, Rocky hastened to be away.

  As she reached the doorway, the greeting between family members turned from civil to vicious. Coldly, Lady Belhaven said, “If you’re here to beg for money, save your breath. My opinion on the matter hasn’t changed.”

  Kenneth’s posture changed. He seemed to loom over both seated parties like a thundercloud. Even Stanley sat straighter, wary.

  “You turn away your own son without a second thought, yet keep this degenerate well inlaid? He’s in ten times deeper than I am!”

  Lady Belhaven turned to her grandson. “Is this true?”

  Stanley raised his hands. His posture turned relaxed, lackadaisical. “I had an off night, Grandmother. I’ll win it back, I’m sure.”

  A cloud formed over Lady Belhaven’s expression. “I cannot condone gambling, Stanley. Surely you must know that nothing is certain.”