by Adams, Lucy
“Thank you, Miss Wells,” Lord Carroway said again, as he came to sit down opposite Titania. “I know this will be a difficult conversation and might I say that I am sorry for all you have endured thus far.”
Titania frowned, hearing the compassion in his voice and wondering what it was she had stumbled into.
“I shall speak quietly so we are not overheard,” Lord Carroway continued, his eyes flickering to Merry for a moment before returning to Titania’s face. “It is best that as few people as possible know of this.”
A thrill of anticipation ran up Titania’s spine, and she found herself leaning forward in her seat, clearly eager to discover the truth. Lord Carroway looked back at her steadily, his jaw set and his blue eyes fixed upon hers, filled with a dark intensity that had her catching her breath.
“Speak, Lord Carroway,” she said urgently, wanting him to tell her all that he knew. “Why did someone attempt to break into this house? Why did another fellow try to carry me away from the ball? I must know the truth.”
He nodded slowly, appearing a little reluctant to do so. Letting out a long breath, he spread his hands and shrugged softly. “I am a spy, Miss Wells,” he murmured, the words sounding like thunderclaps above her head. “I work for the British army to discover and capture the French spies that linger amongst us. And, for whatever reason, these spies now seek you.”
Titania could barely draw in air, her breath coming in weak, shallow gasps as she stared at Lord Carroway. Her eyes were wide, her hands clutching tightly at the arms of the chair as she struggled to comprehend what had been said.
“I know this may come as something of a surprise,” Lord Carroway continued, hesitating, as though he could see the astonishment in her expression and wanted to ease her back from it again. “But I must tell you the truth if you are to understand, Miss Wells.”
“A spy,” Titania whispered, recalling how her brother had written of such a thing and how she had disregarded it completely. “Truly?”
Lord Carroway nodded. “Yes, it is the truth, Miss Wells,” he said, without even glancing away from her. “As you know, I am an orphan and have no family to call my own. Someone – I believe it was my father, who was rumored to be some duke or other – purchased a title for me so that I would not be without a future.” His expression darkened for a moment. “Whilst I was grateful, I will not pretend that I reveled in the idea of joining society. Instead, I found myself seeking to do something of importance, something that would allow my life to have purpose.”
Titania swallowed the lump in her throat. “And so you joined the army?”
“This particular endeavour was set up by myself and another fellow, Lieutenant James,” he said by way of explanation. “There are a few gentlemen involved, as well as a good many others from the lower classes. It works very well, save for the fact that one particular man continues to elude us—no matter what we do.”
Pressing her lips together, Titania tried to simply accept all that Lord Carroway had said without reacting strongly to it, but her mind and body refused to do so. Her head was filling with so many thoughts and questions that she could barely keep herself from demanding answers to them, whilst her heart was hammering furiously in her chest. She swallowed again and closed her eyes, taking in a long breath so as to calm herself somewhat.
“You are overcome,” Lord Carroway muttered. As Titania opened her eyes, she saw him shaking his head before thrusting one hand into his hair in frustration.
“No, please,” she said hurriedly, not wanting him to stop his explanations. “I am quite all right, I assure you. Please, will you not continue?” She held his gaze firmly, her eyes still a little wide as she sought simply by her look to show him that she had enough strength to continue to listen to what he had to say.
Lord Carroway let out a long breath and then nodded. “Very well,” he murmured, looking a trifle relieved as though he himself was glad that he could speak openly to her. “Let me explain to you about Ravel and why he might be pursuing you for whatever reason.”
“Ravel.” The word sounded strange on her lips, and as she spoke it, Titania recalled something that struck at her mind hard. A gasp escaped from her, and she pressed one hand to her mouth. Lord Carroway stared at her, his eyes searching her face, evidently aware that she was caught by something.
“I have just recalled something of great importance,” Titania whispered, going ashen as she recalled what she had done that night she had been attacked and now realizing that it might be of very great value. “Do excuse me, Lord Carroway. I shall only be a few minutes.”
“But of course,” he muttered, as Titania rose to her feet in a flurry of skirts and practically ran from the room.
Chapter Eleven
Edward cleared his throat as Miss Titania Wells rushed back into the room, the door slamming noisily behind her. He caught a glimpse of Miss Merry Wells looking up from where she sat, having been avidly reading a book of some sort, only to be disturbed by her sister. A frown crossed her face, but she did not rise, much to Edward’s relief. There was still a good deal he had to say to Miss Titania Wells.
“Here.”
Miss Wells held something out to him, and after a momentary pause, Edward reached out and took it from her. His hand burned where their fingers touched, his heart jumping to life, but with an effort, he ignored it and returned his attention to the small item he held in his hand.
“I had quite forgotten about this,” Miss Wells said, sinking back down into her chair and appearing most apologetic. “It was the night of the murder. I awoke to find this still held in my hand, but I did not know what it was. I set it aside to ensure its safekeeping, but had very little idea of what I should do with it or where it should go, given that I had been told not to speak a word of what I had seen to another living soul.”
Edward fixed his gaze on the small vial that he held in his hand, not at all certain as to what it was and certainly not knowing what he ought to do with it. “And where did you get this from, Miss Wells?” he asked, glancing up at her and seeing her tight expression and the slight pallor in her cheeks. “Was it from the murderer?”
She nodded, pressing her lips together for a moment. “Yes, I believe so,” she whispered, as though too afraid to speak of it aloud. “When I fought him off, this was what I found in my hand thereafter. It must have come from him although I do not understand its significance.”
Everything began to fit into place, and Edward closed his eyes for a moment, letting his breath rush from him and a sense of certainty settled over his shoulders. “I understand now,” he murmured, opening his eyes to see Miss Wells sitting forward in her chair, her elbows on her knees and her hands held tightly together as she pressed them at her mouth. It was a most unladylike pose, but it told Edward that the lady was filled with nothing more than anxiety and he felt a rising sense of compassion for her, along with the knowledge that things were not easily going to improve for her.
“I think, Miss Wells, that Ravel and his men know that you have this vial,” he said, returning his attention to the object. “That is why they seek you out. They want to have this returned to them.”
“But why?” Miss Wells asked, her voice a little breathless. “What is it?”
“I do not know,” Edward confessed, pulling out a small knife from his pocket and running it over the vial, feeling something tug at his knife as he did so. Narrowing his eyes, he caught his breath as he saw a small stopper at the top of the vial, which, in the candlelight, he had not been able to see before. His knife began to work at it, taking great care not to break anything.
“The night that I pursued the man who was looking to break into this house, the unfortunate fellow told me that you ‘had it’ and that ‘Ravel wanted it back,’” he commented quietly, as he continued to remove the stopper. “This is what they spoke of, Miss Wells.”
Miss Wells dragged in a shaky breath; her face now even paler than before. “But I do not know what it is,” she whispered
hoarsely. “Nor did I know what to do with it.” Her voice was becoming a little higher, her worry evidencing itself all the more. “How will they know that I do not have it any longer, Lord Carroway? How can we show them that it is you who now carries this vial in your possession?”
Edward frowned, his jaw set as the stopper tugged free from the top of the vial. “I must be truthful with you, Miss Wells, I do not think that whether you have the vial or not, you will be safe.” He set the knife and the stopper down carefully before retuning his gaze to her. “You have seen a great deal and are aware of a good many things also. Ravel is a hard man. He will not hesitate to remove you from this Earth if he considers you to be a threat.” He did not want her to faint nor to collapse into hysterics but knew that he had a duty to be honest with her. “But I have an idea that will aid you in all this.”
Miss Wells closed her eyes for a long moment, her fingers now pressed tightly against her mouth. Edward hesitated with the vial in his hands, looking at her and wondering if she were going to collapse.
But Miss Wells had more strength than he gave her credit for. With another long breath, she opened her eyes, set her hands down and gave him a small—albeit jerky—nod.
“Very well, Lord Carroway,” she said in a quieter voice. “I shall do as you say.” She shrugged, her expression rueful. “I cannot blame anyone but myself for what I have become involved in, for it was my own foolishness that had me hurrying from the house in an attempt to prevent one man’s death.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes at her own idiocy. “I should have remained indoors as my sisters would have done.”
“I think it speaks well of your character that you behaved in such a manner, Miss Wells,” Edward told her, seeing a splash of color appear in both her cheeks. “It was foolhardy, I will agree, but you were acting in an attempt to prevent a man from killing another—and that cannot be considered to be wrongdoing.” A smile crossed his lips and, much to his relief, Miss Wells managed to smile back. “Now, let us look at what is within this vial. Mayhap it will give us a few more answers.”
Glancing towards Miss Merry Wells for fear that she was busy watching them both, Edward was surprised to see her with her head back against the chair, her eyes closed and her cheeks a little flushed. Apparently, she had fallen asleep which, he had to admit, was a good thing. It meant that they were in no danger of being seen.
Tipping the vial over, he gave it a slight shake in the hope that whatever lay within would remove itself from the vial, but nothing appeared. Frowning, Edward peered at it carefully, his heart bouncing in his chest as he suddenly saw a small piece of parchment appearing near the top of the vial.
“Good gracious,” he muttered, reaching for his knife and using it to encourage the paper out from the vial. “Look at this, Miss Wells!”
She leaned forward, just as he managed to spear one corner of the paper, tugging it out carefully. Setting the knife down, and with great care, Edward pulled out the paper and, with a breath of relief, now set down the empty vial and turned his attention to the paper.
“What is it?” Miss Wells breathed, her green eyes alive with curiosity as a red curl tumbled down from her coiffure and brushed gently against her temples. Edward swallowed hard at the sight of her, forcing himself not to become caught up in just how mesmerizing she was and fixing his attention solely on the paper.
It was small and rolled up very tightly and, with gentle fingers, Edward began to unravel it. Miss Wells reached forward and held down one side whilst he continued to stretch it out, his eyes reading the words written on it as he did so.
“They are names,” Miss Wells exclaimed, reading upside-down. “Although they mean nothing to me.” She looked up at him, hopeful. “Do you know them?”
Edward frowned, looking at the four names written and reading them carefully. He was about to state that, no, he did not know a single one, only for the last name to catch at his mind.
His breath caught. His thoughts began to tumble freely through his mind as he stared at the piece of parchment, going cold all over as he realized what it was he was looking at.
“Yes, Miss Wells,” he breathed, taking the paper and beginning to roll it up again. “I know one of the names written here, and I confess to you that there is now a great deal of urgency in what I must do.”
“Oh?” She was searching his face, her eyes wide as she leaned forward. “What is it, Lord Carroway?”
The eagerness in her expression could not be ignored. “There is a belief that Ravel is seeking to disrupt the royal family in some way,” he said, hearing her startled gasp. “There has been, as you know, some difficulties already with the illness of the king and thereafter, the prince regent, but to cause more trouble and even mayhap attempt to overthrow the monarchy would bring nothing but chaos and disruption.”
“And the army would have to give a good many of its men back to England,” Miss Wells murmured, surprising Edward with the sharpness of her mind. “Therefore, weakening their defenses against the French.”
He nodded, finding himself filled with admiration for this woman. “Precisely,” he stated, putting the paper back in the vial. “But on this paper are written four names, and I believe that they are the ones who work for the royal family in some way.” Watching Miss Wells carefully, he saw the understanding begin to creep into her expression. “I know the last one. He is a footman in the palace.” He shook his head, taking in a long breath. “We had thought him a useful source of information, but it seems that the French have also discovered this. It would not be the first time that a man has had his loyalty changed by either the promise of wealth or the threat of death.”
“Goodness,” Miss Wells murmured, her hands clasping together tightly. “So you must discover whether or not they are being used by the French?”
“Indeed,” he stated, not forgetting that Miss Wells was still in danger. “I shall share this with the lieutenant, and he shall set men to the task at once. I must remain near you, Miss Wells, in order to ensure your protection. I must also continue to seek out Ravel.”
Miss Wells nodded slowly, her expression set firm. “Ravel is the one behind this plan to attack our royal family,” she said, as if seeking confirmation from him that she was correct in this statement.
“And there have been many times I have thought myself very close to catching him, only to discover him gone and a button left in his place,” Edward said bitterly. Seeing her quizzical look, he shook his head and let out a long, exasperated sigh. “A large brown button that, when it is turned over, has the initial ‘R’ carved into it. It is as though he wishes me to feel ridicule and mockery over my lack of success, but the truth is, Miss Wells, that I have simply become all the more determined to capture him.”
“I can understand the urgency with which you must do so,” Miss Wells replied quietly. “And you believe he is within society?”
“He could be anyone,” Edward admitted. “But the urgency that you speak of grows stronger with each passing day – although now that I have this paper in my possession, we have the opportunity to prevent the attack on the royal family. They were seeking this, I believe, so that they would know which men to approach. Without it, they are held back from their task.”
“That is a relief,” Miss Wells admitted, quickly glancing over her shoulder at her sister, who was still asleep. “But what did you mean when you stated that I must be protected?” Her expression did not change from curiosity to fear, as he had expected, and yet again, Edward found himself filling with admiration for her strength.
“The truth is, Miss Wells, that as I cannot be certain as to who Ravel might be and who also might be working alongside him, I fear that it would not be wise for you to continue as you are.” He drew in a long breath, seeing her watching him still and finding himself suddenly nervous. “You cannot continue to be introduced, conversed with, and courted by gentlemen that you do not know, for fear that you might be putting yourself in danger.”
Miss Wel
ls tipped her head gently, watching him closely. “Then you are suggesting that I give up society altogether?”
“Not at all, Miss Wells,” he said hurriedly, aware of the knot that was forming in his stomach. “I propose that you accept my courtship and allow it to be made known throughout society.” The words began to tumble out of him as he attempted to explain. “We can, of course, bring such a thing to an end once Ravel has been caught and his plans completely foiled, but for the time being, I believe that—”
“I would be glad of your courtship, Lord Carroway.”
Her voice was so quiet and his astonishment so great that, for some moments, Edward did know what to say or how to respond. He stared at Miss Wells, the blood roaring in his ears as she smiled at him.
And then, Miss Merry Wells shifted in her seat, her eyes fluttering as she coughed, and the moment became urgent.
“Thank you, Miss Wells,” Edward stammered, not quite certain what else he should say. “I thank you for your understanding and your patience.”
To his surprise, Miss Wells laughed, her eyes dancing. “You speak as though it is of some great torment to me, Lord Carroway,” she said, teasing him. “But I confess that I do not consider it so.” Her smile lingered, her expression softening, and Edward felt heat rush through him. “Oh, if we are to be courting, might you accompany me to the bookshop tomorrow afternoon?” A faint blush rose in her cheeks as he stammered his acceptance. “It is only that I attempted to push away Lord Huckleby’s request to walk with me tomorrow by pretending that I was already engaged for a short walk to the bookshop with you.”