Charming the Spy (Scandals and Spies Book 4)

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Charming the Spy (Scandals and Spies Book 4) Page 21

by Leighann Dobbs


  But Rocky didn’t have time to enlighten her, let alone seek a second opinion on the matter before she blurted something that might get her sacked. She had to go.

  “Thank you.”

  She bolted toward the door just as Lance slipped along the hallway. Truthfully, she felt sorry for whomever happened to have worn a Tudor costume tonight. That poor man might soon get the tongue-lashing of his life by Lucy. Rocky didn’t for a second believe that he might be Monsieur V.

  She was on the trail of the French spymaster. She would be the one to confirm his identity and take him into custody. Whereas the Duke of Tenwick’s previous orders had been to watch and wait, now that they might have a chance to nab the traitor, he had given his full permission to take advantage and arrest the blackguard if it looked as though he had uncovered Rocky and Catt’s purpose in the house. It was why the Graylockes were here en masse; to provide backup if needed, as well as escorting their infamous prisoner for her to confirm Monsieur V’s identity.

  The throng impeded her path. Luckily, she was small enough that she was able to squeeze between most people. The fact that she was female for once worked to her advantage as the polite men in attendance melted out of her path and tipped their hats to her.

  By the time she reached the entryway to the darkened corridor that led to the kitchen, her heart pounded in her throat and she had trouble remembering to breathe in her excitement. The resultant shortness of breath left her annoyed and slowed her progress farther as she leaned against the wall.

  As Eliza passed, a full covered tray of food in her hand, Rocky asked, “Have you seen Lance?”

  “He went out the back way toward the terrace. Why?”

  “His grandmother sent me to look for him.”

  With a nod, Eliza resumed her duties.

  Rocky bolted down the corridor. This one led in a straight path past the hothouse and kitchen to the door closest to the stables. But Eliza had mentioned the back terrace, which meant that Rocky had to slip through a small parlor toward another short corridor that led into the back of the estate. Had it been summer, the doors of the ballroom would have been open to allow guests to mingle on that terrace. However, those doors were now shut and the frigid open air was the perfect cover to exchange sensitive information about the realm. No one would interrupt them.

  Except Rocky. Afraid she would run out of time and miss the meeting, she dashed through the door and stumbled onto the terrace. The cold immediately wrapped around her, raising gooseflesh over her bare arms and upper chest. Her flimsy indoor slippers crunched in the snow. She gritted her teeth as the cold powder fell inside, an icy awakening.

  At the sound of the door and her footsteps, Lance turned with a smile. “Darli…” The word died on his lips as the smile turned into a frown. “What are you doing here?”

  Damn and blast! She should have stopped before barreling out onto the terrace. She didn’t have a ready reason. Glaring, she drew herself up, thinking to distract him. “What are you doing here?”

  Confound it, she should have offered the same excuse she’d given to Eliza. Too late for that now.

  His frown dipped into a scowl. “If you must know, I’m waiting for…someone else.”

  “A conspirator?”

  Her foot slipped on a patch of ice and she scrambled to remain upright. If it came down to a fight, she wouldn’t be able to arrest him out here. She’d fall flat on her face. Why had she and Catt decided to split up? His presence would have been welcome right about now.

  Not to mention, he probably would have kept a cool head and stopped her from barreling out of the house.

  “Have you lost your bloody mind? What are you talking about?”

  She crossed her arms, refusing to break his gaze. He was hiding something. She’d found Monsieur V after all, but she hadn’t expected him to be so…obvious. Wasn’t the man supposed to be a chameleon, able to slip in and out of a room and use his charm and words to misdirect people into forgetting key details about him? Lance wasn’t doing that at all. From the way he acted, it was crystal clear to Rocky that he was hiding something from her.

  Something like the fact that he had betrayed his family and his country to the French.

  “If you’re not meeting a conspirator, who are you meeting?”

  His face flushed, but she couldn’t tell whether it was because of anger or mortification at being caught. “A…lover.”

  A likely tale. He probably said as much to avoid further questions. Rocky wasn’t about to fall for that.

  “Who?” she demanded.

  The snow crunched behind her, signaling the arrival of someone else. His informant, maybe? A prickle of foreboding pierced the back of her neck. If another French spy had happened upon them, she was outnumbered. She should have thought this through.

  “What is she doing here?”

  Rocky turned to see Abby. The woman had a look of derision on her face as she looked from Rocky to Lance. Unlike them, Abby was dressed warmly in a fur-lined pelisse over her work clothes. The maid glared at Lance.

  “If you think to introduce someone else into our bed play—”

  That was enough to convince Rocky that he was telling the truth. She raised her hands, stepping away. “Certainly not. Forgive me, I chose the wrong place to find a breath of fresh air.”

  She skirted back, leaving Abby and Lance to their lover’s quarrel. Only once she was safely inside the warm manor again, her hands and toes beginning to thaw, did she pause. Wasn’t Abby conducting an affair with David? She glanced over her shoulder, through the frosty panes of the French door to the terrace. Lance must have convinced Abby of the misunderstanding because they were now kissing quite passionately.

  Rocky rubbed at her chest to banish a twinge of guilt. Clearly, Lance didn’t have a clue that Abby wasn’t faithful to him. She didn’t have time to enlighten him. Besides, it wasn’t the worst secret in this house that she’d been forced to keep to herself.

  If Lance wasn’t Monsieur V, that meant one of the other two men in the ballroom was. Rocky had to find Catt. He might be in danger. Danger she had caused by insisting they take separate targets.

  She had to return to the party posthaste.

  Chapter 25

  Catt slipped into the brightly-lit corridor after his mark. Along this hallway resided the parlors where card tables had been set up, as well as the withdrawing rooms. If he followed it long enough, he would come to the intersection leading to the front door.

  A man and woman ducked into a room. Sharp cheroot smoke curled into the air from a room near the far end of the corridor. Catt squared his shoulders, following his mark. The moment the couple whisked out of sight, Catt quickened his step to catch up. At the sound of Catt’s clipped footsteps, the man glanced over his shoulder.

  Catt didn’t recognize him. Blast! Maybe Rocky had been right. If so, she was right now with a dangerous criminal.

  The thought made his heart beat quicken and his palms sweaty. He nearly pivoted and chased after her and Lance. He gritted his teeth. On the off chance this stranger was Monsieur V, he couldn’t let him leave. Not even to help Rocky. He had to trust that, with their training, she would be fine. That she wouldn’t do anything rash.

  Bugger Morgan’s directive to watch unless his identity was compromised. He couldn’t let Rocky remain in jeopardy for a second longer than was necessary. He would collect this fellow and turn him over to the Graylockes for questioning.

  Stepping abreast of the man, Catt slung his arm around the fellow’s shoulders and slipped a pistol from his pocket. In case someone happened by, he used the man’s body to hide the weapon. He dug the mouth into the stranger’s back.

  “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’ll come with me quietly and have a little chat with my friend. If he likes your answers, you’ll be allowed to return home unharmed.”

  Catt kept his voice icy, not allowing himself to thaw toward the man even when he started to quiver beneath Catt’s arm. It could be an ac
t. Catt steered him back the way they’d come, to the ballroom.

  After two steps, the man started to babble. “Forgive me. Please, I’ll get the money to you. Tomorrow, even, if only you’ll let me go.”

  Why did it seem as though every man remotely connected to the ton was in debt up to his eyeballs? Barring the Graylockes, of course. Catt hid his annoyance, thankful that in this case the ton’s predilection toward extravagance and gambling worked in his favor to deliver an excuse for his behavior. Unfortunately, Catt did not recognize the voice. The man was not part of Lady Belhaven’s household. He wasn’t Monsieur V. But Catt couldn’t very well just let him go now; he’d have to play through.

  As they neared the ballroom, he tucked the pistol out of sight, but didn’t loosen his grip on the man. Walking into the crush, he scanned the throng for any of the Graylockes.

  He found Tristan first and hailed him. They met on the edge of the ballroom, next to a line of empty chairs. Tristan came alone, his wife remaining by the duke and duchess.

  “Where’s your partner?” Tristan asked.

  “There were three. We had to split up.” Since Tristan was there, Rocky must have found Gideon to follow the third man. Giddy had months more experience as a spy than Catt, though not quite as much as his two older brothers. Nevertheless, Catt rested easy knowing that his best friend—aside from Rocky—was handling the third.

  He shoved the man he’d caught into Tristan’s grasp. “He seems harmless enough but I’ll leave him to you. I have to find Ro—my partner.”

  The moment Tristan nodded and slung his arm around the man’s shoulders, Catt turned his back. As he walked away, he heard Tristan murmur, “You and I will have a talk. Let’s get to know each other better.”

  The stranger started babbling about his debts again.

  Catt turned to the ballroom. If his mark had gone down the brightly-lit corridor en route to the ballroom, that left only two other exits for Lance to have chosen. A narrow, closed door nestled behind the orchestra which would be difficult to reach and led to a steep staircase that ended on the floor to the family wing—and the corridor leading to the hothouse, kitchen, and exit to the stables. On a hunch, Catt headed in the second direction.

  He fought the throng of bodies, every one of which seemed determined to stand in his way. His heart pounded and he tried not to picture what might happen if Rocky was discovered by Monsieur V to be a spy. If she was hurt… He would never forgive himself. However capable he knew her to be, he couldn’t help the raw feeling that surged through him at the thought of her being in danger. Two heads were better than one against a man as slippery as Monsieur V.

  At the mouth to the kitchen, he collided with another body. He started to apologize reflexively before he realized the person was Rocky. He hauled her into his arms, heedless of the impropriety. None of the guests paid much attention to the servant wing, in any case.

  “Thank Jove. Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She fought his embrace enough to look up at him. A worried crease formed between her eyebrows. “Lance isn’t V. Your mark…?”

  He shook his head. “Handed him to Tristan to be sure.”

  Rocky paled as she peered around him, trying to search the ballroom. Reluctantly, he let his arms drop and took a step to the side.

  “Can you see Lucy?”

  Gideon’s younger sister? He frowned as he searched the crowd. She was usually with her friend Charlie, but the blonde Bo Peep was currently talking to her sister Freddie near the rest of the Graylocke family.

  Slowly, he shook his head. “No. Why?”

  Panic flashed over Rocky’s face. “I asked her to watch the third man for me and ensure he didn’t leave the ballroom.”

  Catt swore under his breath.

  “I couldn’t find anyone else, and I was so sure Lance was V…”

  She met his gaze, her face filled with guilt and fear. His blood chilled as he made the same connection he did. If Lucy wasn’t in the ballroom, she must have followed the third man in an attempt to keep him from going too far.

  She was at the mercy of Monsieur V, and she wasn’t a trained spy.

  Chapter 26

  How could Rocky have been so dimwitted? She’d been so focused on Lance being the culprit that she hadn’t for a second thought that Lucy might be unable to keep the third suspect in the ballroom. She hadn’t considered that if the man slipped her grasp, Lucy might follow.

  Morgan’s gaze had cut through her with the news. He’d marshaled the other members of the family, sending everyone but himself and his wife out to search the mansion for his sister. Even then, with Catt and Rocky, that left only three pairs of searchers. No one was to separate, this time.

  Rocky squared her shoulders as she turned away from the group. Guilt consumed her. Lucy was her friend, and she might have put the girl in danger. Although Rocky didn’t underestimate her the way her brothers did, the fact of the matter was that she had unwittingly sent Lucy on the trail of a French spymaster. Even trained spies hadn’t been able to catch him. Lives hung in the balance, due to Rocky’s blunder.

  Catt cupped her shoulders in his warm palms. “I know you’re angry with yourself, but we need you right now. We’re grasping at mist. Help me think. V must be someone we know, someone in the house, right?”

  She nodded. “There is a chance he had help inside the house, but we combed through the lives and secrets of everyone. We didn’t find anything that pointed to one of them being an accomplice.”

  “We didn’t find V either,” he reminded her. “We must have missed something.”

  She bit her lower lip hard. She had missed something. But what? “If he’s a member of the staff or family, he’ll know the layout of the house.”

  Catt nodded his agreement. “He’ll know which areas are off-limits to guests, and which will be unlikely to be occupied even by family.”

  “The family wing.” Rocky slipped her hand into Catt’s and towed him toward the orchestra. The music drowned out all hope of conversation or explanation, but she quickly slipped through the door and up the steps, dropping his hand. When he shut the door behind him and followed her up the dark, narrow staircase, the music was muffled somewhat.

  Near the top, she explained. “The library. Lady Belhaven doesn’t go in there, neither does her son, Lance is occupied, and at this hour Stanley is more interested in liquor, gambling, or women than books. It’s the perfect, secluded place.”

  “Then lead on.”

  They slipped quietly down the darkened corridor. Light glimmered from select doorways in case the Belhavens returned above stairs—Stanley and Lady Belhaven’s rooms, her favorite parlor. As Rocky approached the far corner of the manse, she saw the hint of candlelight seeping from beneath the door to the library as well. Her breath caught. She’d been right.

  Balling her fists, she started toward that door, but Catt caught her. He spun her toward him, his hands bracketing her shoulders. She couldn’t see his face well enough to make out his expression.

  “Think, Rocky. If we burst in, we might startle him into hurting Lucy. We have to approach this smartly.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll fetch Morgan and the others. Keep watch on the door and don’t go inside until we have backup.”

  Gritting her teeth, she nodded. She didn’t like to remain inactive, but she had to, for Lucy’s sake. As Catt slipped away again, she retreated to a darkened doorway and waited in shadow.

  A faint gasp emanated from inside the room. “No, don’t—”

  That was Lucy’s voice!

  Forgive me, Catt. Rocky couldn’t stand immobile. She had to try to do something.

  She dashed to the door. Finding it unlocked, she threw open the latch and stepped inside. Every muscle in her body was tense, expecting to find the room splattered with red blood or a man forcing Lucy to his whims.

  The only red was that of Lucy’s costume as she leaned out the open window and peered at the snow beneath. She was alone. T
he moment she heard Rocky’s footfalls, she turned. Her face was pale, her expression bewildered.

  “He…he went out the window.”

  Rocky dashed to the window. Drat, it was two stories up! He must have shimmied down a pole that ran up the side. She stared at the footprints in the snow. Could she shimmy down there in her costume? She started to put one leg out the window when a hand grasped her arm.

  “No! It’s too high, you’ll be hurt!” Lucy pulled her back and Rocky realized she was right. Besides Monsieur V was long gone and her first duty was to make sure Lucy was unharmed.

  “Did he hurt you?” Rocky scoured Lucy with her gaze, wanting to lift her red pelisse and check beneath but she didn’t dare.

  The younger girl frowned. “What? No, of course not. It was all a big misunderstanding.”

  Rocky frowned. “It was.”

  “Yes.” Lucy smiled. “He said you misinterpreted his words, that he never meant to imply you weren’t capable because of your gender. You tend to do that, Rocky.” She looked bemused. “Oh! And he wanted me to give you this, as an apology.” She passed Rocky a single purple lily.

  Rocky froze. She couldn’t breathe as she accepted the flower. She ran her trembling fingertips over the leaf. Pin holes.

  Men darkened the doorway. Catt in the lead, but the Duke of Tenwick was hot on his heels, with Gideon and his wife behind. They looked frantic.

  “Lucy,” the duke exclaimed. “Thank Heavens. When we couldn’t find you…”

  The girl crossed her arms and lifted her chin. Her ebony curls bounced. “I’m not a child, Morgan. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

  “You left with a man.” Morgan’s face clouded. “And where is he?”

  Lucy pointed toward the window. “He went out there.”

  Morgan dashed to the window. “Gods teeth! He’s getting away!” He vaulted out the window with Gideon and Catt close behind.

 

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