Divine (21 page)

For his part, Sebastian had been his old good-humored self, endlessly teasing and charming, regularly reducing her to laughter. No more prodding over her whereabouts for the last year, no more proposals of marriage. All traces of the dangerous, fierce stranger gone. Georgiana was starting to think she had greatly exaggerated the intensity she felt that night when he had tackled her to the ground.

All in all, her week had been placidly boring.

After the promising dagger note, she had been expecting
something
to happen. But nothing had and Georgiana felt antsy.

So she had decided to be bold.

Today was the perfect day for it. Sebastian had left for Bristol yesterday on some business and wouldn’t be back for two days, so she didn’t have to worry about the ladies taking him by surprise. In fact, Marianne had specifically invited the ladies for dinner today, mostly to prevent them from scurrying after him.

Sebastian’s absence had nothing to do with her dullness, she decided. It was just the lack of
anything
exciting that had her in doldrums.

Then again, she kept expecting to hear his voice at her ear commenting on Mr. Snickers’ choice of knitted tunic (orange stripes today) or to turn and give him a knowing smile when Miss Mica went off on how divine Marianne’s purple quilled butterflies looked with their gilded edges.

All right, so perhaps she
did
miss him in an affectionate sort of way. She missed James, didn’t she? So it was perfectly acceptable to miss Sebastian, too.

As a sister
should
miss a brother.

She chewed on her cheek and wrapped another paper strip around her quill.

And she did
not
think about tall, muscle-bound men towering over her in moonlit rooms.

At least not
too
much.

Lord Linwood and Lord Blackwell had come to call and sat with Arthur chatting about horses.

Well, Blackwell and Arthur chatted. Linwood, taciturn as ever, nodded every now and again but did not join in the conversation. In lieu of Sebastian, the Burbank sisters had taken to casting their lures out to him, constantly asking his opinion on this or that.

Given the shortness of his answers, Linwood was not amused to be part of their games.

Blackwell was in fine form, wearing a satin dark pink jacket with white embroidered flowers along its edges and a contrasting white waistcoat, the queue of his powdered wig sporting a matching pink bow. The silver buckles on his high-heeled pink shoes glinted in the afternoon light.

He bore an eerie resemblance to Hello Kitty. In a demented, eighteenth century sort of way.

Georgiana had to stifle a chuckle every time she looked at him. It was the best part of her day so far.

Which, given that she was spending it quilling with the Miss Burbanks, was not saying much.

Georgiana finished the last three small rolls of paper and nestled them into her design. Surveying the completed piece, she was pleased to note the Jupiter symbol stood out quite well against the background.

Go big or go home
? Wasn’t that what Marc always said?

“Are you finished then?” Marianne asked, gesturing toward Georgiana’s board.

“And what, exactly, is your design supposed to be, Miss Knight?” Miss Michaelina queried, leaning closer to examine it.

“I am not entirely certain myself. The design just seemed pleasing.” Georgiana shrugged.

Miss Michaelina furrowed her brow, obviously not liking Georgiana’s vague response. Georgiana pursed her lips. The whole point of the design was to see who
else
would recognize it. Not to give others ammunition.

“May I?” Miss Michaelina asked, lifting the design into her hands and studying it for a minute.

“Lord Linwood,” she said, turning to the gentleman seated across the room, “would you be so kind as to offer an opinion on the design that Miss Knight has done?” She crossed over to them and held the design for Linwood to see.

As predicted, he cocked an unamused eyebrow. Georgiana forced her face to maintain a careful mask.

“How . . . interesting,” he said after a moment, his tone implying that it was anything but.

“May I?” Arthur asked. Miss Michaelina dutifully passed the piece to Arthur, Blackwell glancing at it as well.

Both men wore puzzled expressions.

“Well, Georgie, you have stumped us all,” Arthur said, handing it back to Miss Michaelina who then returned it to the table.

Georgiana shrugged and stood. “I believe I will take a turn around the garden while it finishes drying,” she announced, tugging her shawl around her shoulders.

“Charming idea, Miss Knight,” Blackwell said. “May I join you?”

Georgiana watched as Blackwell used his walking stick to push to his feet, teetering on his heeled shoes, pink bow bobbing in his white powdered hair.

Hello Kitty. Truly. It was almost uncanny.

Pressing her lips together to keep her giggle inside, Georgiana wrapped her hand around his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the french doors and across the terrace.

They walked sedately, Blackwell making polite inquiries about her health. Georgiana slowed her pace to match his mincing step. She was suddenly grateful that heeled shoes for men had gone out of style around 1795.

Walking into the walled garden, his shoes crunched along the gravel path, punctuated by the tap of his silver-tipped walking stick. From the corner of her eye, Georgiana could see Blackwell studying the sky and the overcast clouds chasing across it.

“The weather has been quite fine lately, but I wonder if we are not due for a spot of rain,” he said after a little pause.

“Indeed,” Georgiana murmured.

“I thought earlier I perhaps heard some warning thunder, though I did not see a lightning bolt and nothing came to harm.” He was still studying the sky.

Georgiana went incredibly still. Had he truly just said that? Those lines almost
straight
from the mysterious letter she found tucked in the flower pot on the wall.

I have heard the warning thunder and understand the lightning bolt can harm those who do not heed the eagle’s cry.

What to say?

There was really only one possibility.

“That is a relief. I understand lightning can harm those who do not heed the eagle’s cry.”

Blackwell’s head instantly swung back to her. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he heaved a sigh of relief. He glanced calmly around them.

“Thank goodness, I have found you at last,” he said quietly after a moment, stopping to examine a rose bush. His agitation only evident in the tap-tap-tap of his walking stick against the gravel.

Somehow Georgiana managed to keep a straight face. Inside, however, she was doing one of those crazy dances Marc performed when his beloved Broncos scored a touchdown.

Now how to reply?

“Yes, I am happy to finally meet you.” Suitably vague but inviting further confidences.

Blackwell nodded, as if the answer pleased him.

“The paper filigree was genius, the perfect sign,” he agreed. “Thank you. My nephew delayed my departure last week, and so I arrived too late to see the prearranged signal. I was told the signal would fade if I were too late. I apologize.”

Georgiana could only assume he meant the glowing symbol on the garden wall. She felt like jumping up and down and clapping her hands with glee.

Of course, this entire discussion, though providing some answers, was also creating more questions.

A lot more questions.

She nodded conspiratorially. “You must forgive my impertinence, Lord Blackwell. But how do I know you are to be trusted?”

He turned quickly toward her and then looked apologetic.

“Of course, of course,” he murmured. “I am a mere amateur with this. Lord Zeus was right to send you. He said he would send his best agent to help me. But, naturally, you need to see the mark.”

Lord Zeus? Of course! Zeus, Jupiter’s Greek name. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she recovered quickly.

It was sensational, astonishing.
Electrifying
.

She was sure every hair follicle on her body stood on end.

Who
was
Lord Zeus?

With a glance toward the house, Blackwell pushed on the silver handle of his walking stick. The top of the stick swung free to reveal the Jupiter—no wait, Zeus mark—burned into the wood. Georgiana nodded appreciatively. Blackwell snapped the tip back together.

“You have taken me by surprise, Miss Knight.” Blackwell gestured for them to continue their walk. “Though I should have suspected. A most brilliant ruse, saying you had gone off for treatment for consumption. Genius, truly. I can only imagine the things you have done for Lord Zeus.”

“Yes, my experiences of the past year have been decidedly beyond the scope of most young ladies.”

Somehow she managed to say the sentence with a straight face. Blackwell merely tugged on his lacy sleeves and shot her a self-satisfied look.

“Well, I am most absurdly glad you are here. You have been doing your assignment admirably. I never suspected you.”

Her
assignment
?

Somehow, this just kept getting better and better.

Blackwell was continuing on. “It will be a pleasure to watch a master at work. I admit, when Lord Zeus gave me the task of preventing Stratton from marrying before his twenty-seventh birthday, I felt all hope was lost. How was it to be accomplished? But, as you well know, Lord Zeus can be most persuasive. Without the money from Lord Stratton, well . . .” He stared off into the distance and then swallowed. “There were some indiscretions in my youth. We all have our secrets, don’t we?”

Georgiana nodded in agreement. So Blackwell needed the money from Sebastian to pay off Lord Zeus? He was being blackmailed.

“I am here now to ensure all goes smoothly, Lord Blackwell,” she said in her most soothing tone.

He breathed a visible sigh of relief.

“I am most glad to hear it,” he said. “If I may ask, what is your current plan of attack?”

Drat
.

Georgiana drew in a sharp breath and pondered the greenery, as if deciding to share a secret. In reality, her thoughts scattered trying to find something, anything to say.

What
was
her plan of attack?

“Of course, I do not assume you must take me into your confidence,” Blackwell said in a rush. Bless him for coming to her rescue.

“Naturally. I assure you, Lord Blackwell, I have the entire situation well in hand.”

He let out a breath. “You have been doing an excellent job of distracting Lord Stratton from the other ladies. I can guess you intend to pretend to fall for his advances, string him along and then jilt him at the altar. Is that correct?”

Ah
. That sounded like a
splendid
plan.

How kind of Blackwell to suggest it.

Georgiana nodded, suppressing a smile.

“You are most perceptive, my lord.” Time to fish for more information. “If I may ask, when did you last see Lord Zeus?”

Blackwell drew in a hissing breath.

“You have actually
seen
him?” he asked, his eyes widening. “I have only ever received letters and visits from his man of business, if you could call him such. Heavens! I had not realized you were so highly valued. I thought no one ever saw him, that his identity was completely secret. Thank you for your help. I know my very life depends on the success of this enterprise. Lord Zeus is not kind to those who disappoint him.”

Georgiana only barely suppressed a shivery shudder.

“Well, we shall do our best, shall we not, to ensure success?” she said, giving a comforting smile. Blackwell managed a tentative grimace in return.

A crunch on the gravel behind them announced the footman, informing them that luncheon was to be served.

Georgiana contemplated Blackwell over cool cucumber soup and roasted partridges.

She was officially a double-agent!

And she had thought a silly drawing of a bloodied dagger to be thrilling. This was utterly
stupendous
!

If only Sebastian were back. What would he make of it all?

Gah! But she wanted to talk to him right now. How long before telephones would be invented?

After all their guests had departed, Georgiana escaped to her room. Pulling out her tablet, she added the whole episode to her
My Mysterious Love Letter
list.

1. The note I found in the garden is a code for identifying a secret organization run by someone named Lord Zeus. Lord Blackwell has connections with Zeus and displays the Jupiter/Zeus symbol on his walking stick. Who is Lord Zeus?
   
2. Blackwell implied he is being blackmailed by Zeus and needs money to pay him—money Blackwell must not currently have.
   
3. Consequently, Blackwell must prevent Sebastian from marrying, thereby ensuring Blackwell receives twenty thousand pounds of the gooseberry money. He will then use the money to pay off his debt to Lord Zeus. Or something like that. Lord Zeus is aiding him in his efforts to do this.
   
4. I am now officially a double agent. Eeek!
   

So many questions. Who was Lord Zeus? Why did he want Sebastian’s and then Blackwell’s money? Did Lord Zeus have a personal vested interest in this too?

And perhaps most important of all:

Who was the agent Lord Zeus
had
sent?

Chapter 13