The Way to a Spy’s Heart
Book 1 of Romancing Intrigue
By: Laura Shipley
Copyright Laura Shipley ©2020
ISBN: 978-0-9997798-2-8
All right reserved
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Lisa Messegee, “The Write Designer”
First printing edition 2020
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 1
France 1854
The crack of the whip echoed in the air just before it struck; the white-hot pain piercing his skin. Blood trailed down his back and legs making a rhythmic drip onto the floor. They strung him up by the arms this time. He refused to tell them anything. He would rather die than forsake his comrades.
Lisette, that bitch had betrayed him! How could he have been so stupid to think he loved her? The whip sliced through his thoughts. The pain made it difficult to focus on the questions asked, more so because they were in French. He was going to pass out. They had tortured him for days. The results were always the same, Phillip covered in fresh, bloody welts and silent lips. The swish of the whip signaled the next strike.
Phillip Crestwood shot up in bed drenched in sweat and his heart racing. It took a moment to recognize his surroundings since the remnants of sleep were still upon him. It was always the same after one of his nightmares. They were becoming more frequent since arriving back in France.
The war against Russia had waged on for a little over a year on the Crimean Peninsula. Initially Phillip had been stationed in London with an occasional assignment overseas. Now he was primarily in France, closer to the action. Phillip’s superior, Sir Darnley, had sent him and his friends, Hugh Fitzsimmons and Ethan Norris, to France as intelligence agents. The three men had a network established throughout Europe, so it was natural to use this to their allies’ benefit.
Phillip had spent little time in France since his last stay almost two years prior. The previous visit had been a less than accommodating situation. He thought he had put that episode behind him but returning to France had dredged up memories he would just as soon forget.
Since he was awake, Phillip figured he might as well get dressed. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands, waiting for the pounding in his head to cease. Commander Barnes had summoned him to the main headquarters. No doubt to persuade him to attend yet another party. Lately, it seemed Phillip’s main purpose was to glean information from Paris’ upper class. He and his friends were English nobility which allowed them to move easily in social circles without causing suspicion.
The monotony of the social gatherings made him restless. He wanted to use his talents in a more productive manner. He grew weary of conversing with gentlemen, gauging their views of the war, and determining if there was plotting afoot. At least they had given him a short leave to return to London to visit his sister, Tabitha, who had just given birth to her first child.
He envied his friend, Hugh Fitzsimmons, a captain in the army who had seen action on the front lines. What Phillip wouldn’t give for a taste of adventure after the last several weeks of boredom. Now was not the time for daydreaming, he needed to prepare for the day. He knew how much the commander hated tardiness. After eating a quick breakfast, he rode to the war offices in town.
Upon his arrival at headquarters, Phillip went up to the second floor where the commander’s office was located. He notified Commander Barnes’ assistant of his arrival and was told to wait. Phillip watched the young soldier disappear through the nearest door, no doubt to let his superior know of Phillip’s presence. As he waited, Phillip’s gaze wandered. Everywhere he looked, officers bustled about their work. He felt lazy as he watched them go about their business.
At last the door swung open, and the commander’s assistant waved Phillip into the cramped, dimly lit office. Sunlight fought for entry against the shelves obscuring the window. A staleness hung in the air, a testament to the fact that fresh air had been unwelcomed for some time. A desk stood on the far end of the room; the cabinets on either side of it overflowed with papers. It took a lot of manpower to run a war.
Commander Barnes, head of the English War Office in France, sat behind the desk. The commander, an older, brutish man, motioned Phillip over while he read a letter. He sat as directed.
“Well, Phillip, I hope you’re rested from your stay in London?”
“Yes, sir. I visited my family and saw my newborn niece.”
“Good.” The older man shuffled some papers around before laying his arms on the desk and leaned forward. “Now, I have a mission that requires your particular skill set. I need someone who can blend in, work quickly, and efficiently in any situation.”
Phillip nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you for the compliments, sir, but if this is another trip to Paris to attend some rich count’s weekend party, I would prefer not to go.”
Commander Barnes chuckled, “Thought you boys liked those assignments. You get to throw your lineage around, drink champagne, flirt with the ladies, and still get the job done.”
“Begging your pardon, Commander, but if I wanted that type of life, I would return home. You listed some of my skills, and I want to put them to good use.”
“Well said, my boy, and so you shall. There is a Russian defector who has contacted us. He has information regarding routes used to transport supplies to the sea. We need that information brought back here.”
Phillip leaned forward in his chair. This is what he craved, an assignment which allowed him to do more than mingle in ballrooms or listen to concerts. He wanted the adventure and excitement which had been lacking in his life lately. “Where is the informant?”
“He will be at a local inn, in the city of Bregenz, Austria, on the border. You will travel alone and meet him there. The innkeeper knows of the situation and will give you his full cooperation. Bring the informant back. We have given him immunity, providing the information is credible.”
Phillip considered the assignment. It shouldn’t be too difficult for two riders to make the trip in a week or so, barring any unpleasantries. He had been in dangerous situations before and had emerged without major injuries. If they kept to back roads and didn’t attract attention, they would be fine. Phillip asked, “When do you need me to leave?”
“Immediately.”
Phillip shook the commander’s hand before exiting the office. As he strolled down the hall, he saw his dear friend, Lord Ethan Norris. The blond-haired gentleman leaned against the wall, waiting for Phillip. He was also in France on assignment for Sir Darnley. Phillip smiled when he saw his oldest friend, and the two shook hands.
Ethan was the first to speak. “I thought I might find you here. Hugh told me Barnes had summoned you. Anything you need help with?” Ethan was always the first to offer aid to his friend.
“I have to go to Austria to bring back an informant. Nothing too exciting. I’ll be back
within the month.”
“Well, while you are gallivanting about, Hugh and I are off to Paris. Where will you be crossing the border when you come back into France?”
“Alsace, if I can. I will send a message to Louis since his estate is on the border. I will try to rendezvous there with the commander instead of coming back here.”
Ethan nodded his head in agreement. “If we can, Hugh and I will meet you there, in case there is anything else needed.”
The friends shook hands and parted. Phillip returned to his quarters to pack his belongings and write a letter to his friend, Louis DeColigny. He would leave out at once. The journey should be uneventful. He spoke multiple languages and would keep to the back roads as much as possible. Hopefully, the mission would be successful, and the information would prove useful. So far, the war was going in their favor, but the sooner it was over, the better.
**********
Austria 1854
Charlotte Bradley struggled to stay awake at yet another soiree. For the last month, she had been visiting family with her mother and sister. Her mother grew up in Russia, and some of her family now lived in Austria. Her father and brother had stayed home, in Dorset, to run the family business. Tonight, was the last social event before they left for home later in the week. Charlotte didn’t want to attend, but her mother had insisted.
It had surprised Charlotte that her father had even approved of the trip. Austria was neutral in the war, but it was still a dangerous time for women to travel alone. After much persuasion from her mother, Mr. Bradley had decided they could go under one condition. He insisted they have armed escorts during their travels to and from Austria. Hopefully, they would make it through their travels unscathed.
The evening dragged on, and Charlotte tried her best to stifle a yawn. It had been a busy day filled with social calls and shopping. The day’s events caught up with her and fatigue began to set in. She asked her mother if she could leave early, and her mother consented.
With a sigh of relief Charlotte climbed into the carriage. As much as she enjoyed traveling, Charlotte loathed the fact that her mother hoped to find her a husband while they were abroad. After the fiasco at home, she was not keen on being courted any time soon. She was tired of being examined like goods from one of her father’s cargo boats. Men were only interested in a woman for the money and influence they brought to the marriage. She had learned that lesson the hard way and wanted nothing to do with marriage.
When Charlotte arrived at the house, the butler immediately addressed her.
“Pardon miss, but a note came for you. I was told to deliver it as soon as you returned.”
Charlotte took the note into the parlor and opened it. She scanned the contents and called to the butler, “Franz, have the carriage wait; I must go back out right away. If I am not back by the time my mother comes back, please tell her I’m in bed.”
The butler awkwardly avoided Charlotte’s gaze. She reassured him, “I should only be gone for an hour or so. A friend is sick and has asked for me.”
Charlotte rushed out the door and gave the coachman the address as she stepped in. After a ten-minute trip, the carriage arrived in front of a small house at the end of a dark lane. The only light glimmered from the lantern hanging outside the door. Charlotte knocked, and an older woman opened the door.
“I’ve come to see Mr. Petrov,” Charlotte explained.
The woman allowed Charlotte entrance and guided her up a set of steps to a dimly lit room. Her cousin, Nikoli Petrov, the son of her mother’s brother, lay on a bed on the far side of the room. A single candle burned on the bedside table. Charlotte had seen him many times over the years, but she had seen him only once during her family’s current visit to Austria. She wondered why Nikoli had asked for her.
Charlotte hurried across the room. As she drew closer, she noticed Nikoli’s face was pale and covered in sweat. Blood soaked the left shoulder of his shirt. She knelt next to the bed and grabbed her cousin’s hand.
“Dear God Nikoli, what has happened? Have you been shot?”
“Charlotte, listen to me. I’m not sure how much time we have. They are searching for me, but I have friends coming to help.”
“What are you talking about? You need a doctor.”
Nikoli tightened his hold on Charlotte’s hand. “No! I need you to listen, dear cousin. Remember, everything I’m about to tell you, for our lives will depend upon it.”
Charlotte wondered what Nikoli had gotten himself into. She sunk into the chair next to the bed and waited for him to explain.
“I have not been entirely truthful with all of you. I am not just a merchant trader. I have also been giving information to the French and English about the Russians. As a merchant, I have access to places they wouldn’t otherwise be able to get to. On the way home from my last trip, the Russians discovered what I’ve been doing.”
Charlotte couldn’t believe it. Her cousin was a spy who sold information. She struggled to understand this. Nikoli was the kindness, gentlest person she knew. She shook her head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious, Nikoli. What possessed you to do such a thing?”
“I want to leave Russia permanently and thought if I helped the French and the English, it would better my chances of going to England. I have been promised immunity, and they will allow my parents to leave as well.”
“But what happened tonight? How did you get shot?” Charlotte noticed the bloodstain on Nikoli’s shirt increased as they spoke. She worried he would lose too much blood. The sooner she listened to him, the faster she could get him help.
Nikoli continued, “I was riding back when I was ambushed and shot. I’m supposed to meet a man at the Inn at Bregenz in three days and provide him with information. I won’t be able to make it, not in my current shape. I need your help, Charlotte.”
“What do you need?”
“I need you to go in my place. Take the information to the agent I’m supposed to meet. He will escort you to the English headquarters.”
Charlotte laughed, “You must be mad! What would I do about Mother and Victoria? I cannot leave them. Plus, I’m no spy. Nikoli, I can’t do this.”
He asked a lot of her to travel alone for three days and put her life in a stranger’s hands. Charlotte didn’t know if she was brave enough but felt as though she had no other choice. Nikoli didn’t trust anyone else, which was why he had called for her, and so she accepted.
Charlotte knew how to defend herself well enough. Her brother had taught her how to shoot and some basic self-defense strategies. She was a patriotic Englishwoman and would help her country, despite her fear.
“Very well, Nikoli. Tell me what I need to do.”
Her cousin sighed with relief. He relayed the important details she would need, including the trade routes, the number of supply carts, and pertinent dates. When she arrived at the inn, he told her to ask for the best room. Nikoli gave her the secret phrase to use when the Englishman arrived, and the Englishman’s response code to confirm his identity.
After Nikoli finished, he agreed to have a doctor tend to his wound. Charlotte stayed until the doctor arrived and assured her Nikoli would live. She promised to leave the next day as soon as the arrangements were made. Now, the only problem was to figure out how to leave without alerting her mother.
Chapter 2
Charlotte secretly hired a carriage the next day to travel to Bregenz. She knew her mother would forbid her from going, or worse yet, demand to come along. Charlotte left a note explaining she was helping Nikoli and would see them back in England.
Charlotte met the carriage at a secret location in the early morning hours. She packed a small bag to make traveling easier. The tension in her stomach increased, the further she rode away from her family. Doubts ran through Charlotte’s mind. For every argument she made for why this plan was foolish, she would counterpoint with a reason why it was vital to fulfill her promise. She had to press on. If she carried herself with an air of dignity and confide
nce, perhaps no one would notice the nervousness lurking under the surface.
The carriage ride was uneventful, and Charlotte arrived at the inn a day early. She asked the innkeeper for the best room available, as per Nikoli’s instructions. The man gave her a questioning look but showed her to the room. The following morning, she dressed and waited for her contact to show up. She wondered what he would look like and if she could trust a stranger.
It was difficult for Charlotte to trust anyone, especially a man, since one had deceived her in the past. She didn’t have to entrust this man with her heart, just tolerate his company until they returned to France. He was simply an escort, and that was the end of it. A loud knock on the door startled Charlotte from her thoughts. She hesitated a moment before going to the door.
“Who is it?”
A husky voice replied, “I’ve come to collect my bags.”
The sound of his voice caused Charlotte’s heart to skip a beat, and she almost forgot her scripted line. “The porter has collected them,” she stammered.
“Then, I shall pay him a shilling.”
Charlotte sighed with relief as he spoke the correct response Nikoli had given her. She opened the door a crack, still unsure. What she saw on the other side of the door was not what she expected. A pair of charcoal gray eyes met her stare. Disheveled chestnut hair which matched the slight beard he sported partially covered his eyes. A sudden urge to brush back the stray hairs overtook her. His stance spoke of confidence, along with the determined set of his jaw. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties and was one of the handsomest men she had ever met.
**********
For a split second, confusion crossed Phillip’s features. A woman, he inwardly groaned; it had to be a bloody woman. He assumed the informant would be a man. A woman held no place in the game of war and intrigue. This situation would be troublesome. He didn’t spare her a second glance as he entered the room.
The Way to a Spy’s Heart: A Steamy Victorian Historical Spy Series (Romancing Intrigue Book 1) Page 1