A Spy Unmasked (Entangled Scandalous) (5 page)

“You need a chaperone?”

“Yes.”

“I’m surprised. You had your suspicions about Viscount Delmont. Why would you want to attend his weeklong house party?”

As Sophia’s friend and cousin, Jane knew a few details about her investigation into Viscount Delmont. Sophia had never told her about her plans to sneak into the masquerade; she knew Jane would not have approved. And after last night, she understood that there was much more at stake than just her own father’s death. Other inventors had been murdered, a mastermind of the Inventors’ Society was suspected, and the Home Office was involved. Although she wanted desperately to confide in Jane, she was worried about her cousin’s safety. The less Jane knew, the better.

“I…I admit I may have been wrong about the viscount,” she said. “Delmont’s interests lie in chemistry, and I fear I may have erroneously assumed he was after Father’s work. The truth is Lord Kirkland and I have been unable to find anything incriminating about him.”

“I see.” Jane sighed. “Due to the excitement of your news, I forgot to mention what I learned. Lady Mason told me that there was a shooting last night at the Delmonts’ masquerade. One of the viscount’s guards was killed. Thieves are suspected.”

“A thief?”

“No,
thieves.
They were spotted fleeing into the woods.”

Sophia tried to still the pounding of her heart. “How awful! Were they caught?”

Jane shook her head. “No. The guards could not even identify the criminals for the constables. With footpads lurking in the streets and thieves breaking into mansions, London is becoming quite dangerous.”

“Perhaps it’s best if we leave town for a house party. Will you agree to act as my chaperone?” Sophia asked.

For a moment Jane studied her intently. “I will. I’d like to observe the two of you together. What better way to judge your newfound love?”

Sophia’s stomach sank. She had no doubt the handsome and deceiving Kirkland could pull off the ruse. But could she?

Chapter Six

Later that afternoon, Sophia ceased working. She wasn’t making any progress and her stomach was grumbling, reminding her she hadn’t eaten luncheon. She was on the way to the kitchen when a knock sounded on the front door.

Smith had already opened it by the time she walked into the vestibule.

He held out a silver salver. “It’s addressed to you, my lady.”

Her name was written upon the envelope in bold black ink. She took the note and headed for the library. She broke the seal and tore it open to withdraw a sheet of heavy foolscap bearing the distinct watermark of one of London’s quality papermakers.

Come to my home at three o’clock this afternoon. The party is less than two weeks away. We must prepare.

Robert

The missive was curt and lacked flowery prose, just like Kirkland. Sophia glanced at the mantle clock, her heart hammering. She looked down at her worn work gown and the smudges of dirt on her hands.

“Smith!” she called as she rushed out of the library. “Please summon the carriage. I must change and then attend to some business.”

…

A half hour later, her carriage stopped before an impressive mansion in Grosvenor Square. Smoothing the skirts of her fine morning gown of blue alpaca, Sophia stared at the massive pile that had belonged to the old earl. Built of white stone with painted black shutters, the home’s window boxes were bursting with well-tended, colorful blooms.

“Shall I accompany you, Lady Sophia?”

At the softly spoken question, Sophia glanced at her maid and chaperone seated inside the carriage. “Yes, Rose. But I shall require some time alone with Lord Kirkland.”

Rose’s eyes widened. “Is that wise, my lady? We’re visiting a bachelor’s home.”

“We are discussing several of my father’s inventions. It will take some time. Of course, you may stay if you deem it necessary.”

Rose twisted her hands in her skirts, and Sophia knew she’d said the right thing. All her father’s servants knew how tedious and long a conversation could be regarding one of his inventions, let alone several.

She’d once overheard the servants use the word “torturous” when referring to her father’s discussions.

“As you wish,” Rose said, nodding obediently.

The driver hopped down to lower the step, and the women alighted the carriage. Together they headed for the front steps, and Sophia lifted the heavy brass knocker.

The door swung open and a dour-faced butler stared down at them.

“Lady Sophia Merrill to see Lord Kirkland. I believe he is expecting me.”

The butler held the door open farther. The women stepped into the vestibule and handed him their cloaks. The entrance was stunning, graced by polished marble and a glittering chandelier.

“Lord Kirkland will see you in his study.”

They followed him past an elegantly appointed drawing room, music conservatory, and dining room. The furnishings were rich mahogany, the carpets a lush Oriental, and the rooms spacious. Sophia marveled at Kirkland’s wealth.

Her own father’s town house on Curzon Street was in an affluent location, but he had never believed in luxury, and she had grown accustomed to living with a small staff. Her father had rarely entertained. Rather, he’d spent his money on his laboratory and his research.

The butler’s heels clicked on the marble floor. His spine was rigid, the image of a perfectly proper butler in an earl’s home. She couldn’t help but wonder if the servants were aware of their new master’s clandestine work for the Home Office.

A door farther down the hall opened and Kirkland emerged, carrying a sheaf of papers. His tawny hair was mussed as if he had repeatedly run his fingers through the thick locks. He wore no jacket, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up, revealing his forearms.

He looked studious and reserved…completely different from the mysterious, masked man of last night, the dangerous spy who had snatched her off her feet and slung her over his shoulder like a pirate would his booty.

He glanced up from his papers and spotted her. His sensual lips curved in a smile. “Welcome.”

Beneath his intense stare, a shiver of awareness tingled along her spine. “I received your note.”

Kirkland turned to the butler. “Burke, I’d like to introduce my fiancée, Lady Sophia.”

The butler stared, an expression of complete surprise on his face. Gathering his composure, he bowed. “Forgive me, my lady. I had no idea. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

She curtsied. “Thank you.”

“Perhaps Lady Sophia’s maid would like refreshment in the kitchen,” Kirkland prompted.

Burke was quick to catch on. “If you would accompany me, miss?” he said as he led Rose away.

Once they were alone, Robert ushered her into his study, closed the door, and motioned for her to sit in a chair before a pearwood desk.

Sophia sat and took in her surroundings. Several documents on the desk bore official seals, and she recognized them as letters patents granted by the Crown for new inventions. Engineering drawings and blueprints were pinned on a corkboard on the far wall. In the corner of the study stood a Pembroke table containing what could only be described as various innovations to inventions—a handlebar assembly of a velocipede, an electric battery, a miner’s lamp, and good Lord, were those iron handcuffs?

“Thank you for coming.” Kirkland sat in a leather chair behind the desk. “I see you find my collection of interest.”

“Indeed,” she said.

“I petitioned the Society for membership. I need to acclimate myself to the work of its members and offer a few of my own ideas.”

“You thought of your own inventions?”

He smiled. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you I studied engineering at Oxford.”

She understood he would have to immerse himself in the group at the house party, feign interest in other’s works, and be able to talk intelligently about his own inventive ideas. His background would surely aid him.

“I have something that belongs to you.” Opening a desk drawer, he placed a battered, leather-bound book on the surface.

“My father’s ledger! You did manage to steal it before I walked in on you in Viscount Delmont’s library.”

He merely chuckled.

“What else did you learn?” she asked.

“Wendover and I have both studied the ledger. Your father did not mention Lord Delmont or the Inventors’ Society. The ledger contains numerous chemical formulas and documents his failed attempts at producing a poisonous gas indiscernible to human smell and taste.”

She frowned. “Papa was a brilliant chemist. He wasn’t attempting to produce a poisonous gas, but a harmless one that could be used by surgeons for their patients during surgery. But like many inventions, the object of father’s initial work yielded unexpected results and an entirely different product.”

“It’s a loss he cannot finish his initial work.”

“I hope to complete the formula.”

“You are a chemist?”

“I am not as brilliant a chemist as my father, but I am not entirely ignorant either, and I hope to finish many of his mechanical inventions as well. His ledger will assist me.”

“You are full of surprises, Sophia.”

Was he complimenting her or criticizing her for dabbling in what many would deem a man’s work?

“There’s something else.” He withdrew a small gold object from his pocket and placed it on the desk. “Do you recognize this?”

She picked it up and turned it over. “It’s a gear,” she said, frowning.

“Did your father own one?”

“He owned many gears. But none like this. Is it solid gold?”

“It is.”

“Why is it significant?”

“It was found as a watch fob on the other bodies. I believe it has something to do with the murders. A sort of commemorative token upon admittance into the Society.”

“To my knowledge, Papa never owned a small gold gear. What does it mean?”

“It’s my job to find out.”

“My father was a member until he was forced out by Viscount Delmont. I found entries in one of Father’s journals where he suspected some type of corruption in the group. Soon after, he wrote that he had a heated argument with Delmont and was forced out, but he never gave specifics. I hope this information is useful to you.”

“It is.”

Kirkland leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk. His tailored cotton shirt stretched tightly across his broad shoulders, emphasizing a sinewy strength. “The ledger is not the only reason I asked you here today. We need to think of our history.”

“Our history?” she asked, bewildered.

“A believable story of how we met. Our love story.”

Their love story?
“Is that necessary?”

His voice held a distinct note of challenge. “It is if you refuse to stay home and out of trouble like Wendover had initially requested.”

“I do.”

His glance was bemused and opaque. “Then people will undoubtedly ask questions about us. I realize most unions are not love matches, but our situation must be different. Your parents are deceased, and you are of age. Wendover advised me that your father’s estate was not entailed and that you do not imminently need to marry for financial reasons. Therefore, it will be much more convincing if we act the loving couple.”

“I see,” she murmured.

Glancing at his handsome visage, Sophia understood it would not be difficult for women to believe she had fallen head over heels in love with Lord Kirkland. To the contrary, it would be difficult to convince them otherwise.

“I spoke with my cousin, Jane, about our engagement,” she said.

“Was her reaction that of disbelief?”

“She is my closest friend. I told her that we’d met by chance, and you were kind enough to assist me in looking into my father’s death. I explained that over time we had fallen in love.”

“Did she believe you?”

“I don’t know. I’m not as accustomed to…” She trailed off. She wanted to say
lying,
but bit her tongue. “As accustomed to acting as you are.”

A sparkle of humor lit his blue eyes. “Has Jane agreed to be your chaperone during the Delmont’s house party?”

Sophia nodded.

“Good. I must thank your cousin before we depart. Until then, we’ll have to contrive our love story and practice role playing.”

A frisson of unease tingled up her spine. The last time he had wanted to “role play,” he had come dangerously close to kissing her. She had lost her nerve and stepped away, but if she was truthful to herself, it was not out of fear of his kiss, but from her anticipated response.

“What exactly do you have in mind?” she asked hesitantly.

He stood and walked around the desk. “You look like a deer about to bolt from a hunter.”

She rose and squared her shoulders at his comment. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He came close and propped his hip against the desk. “Let’s see. We first saw each other at a church service.” He rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “No, that’s too righteous. How about at a book-club meeting? Or a walk in Hyde Park?” He shook his head. “No, both are boring and lack spontaneity.” Snapping his fingers, he caused her to blink. “I’ve got it! We met in Madame Beauxbaton’s dance class.”

“Dance class? But I know how to dance. No one will believe such nonsense,” she protested.

“Yes, they will. Since your father’s death, you’ve rarely attended balls or soirees. It’s only natural to attend Madame’s dance studio to brush up on your skills.”

Her mouth fell open. He must have spoken with Wendover about much more than her financial independence. It was true she had been selective in which functions to attend and that was probably why she had never seen the new Earl Kirkland out and about in London.

After her father had been dubbed the “Mad Marquess,” she had initially been ashamed, but then her anger had surfaced at the fickle members of the
ton.
She’d declined numerous invitations she’d received—no longer from embarrassment, but from fury. She understood herself enough to know that she would have defended her father and delivered scathing remarks to the hurtful gossips. Her impulsiveness and sense of righteousness would have demanded it.

At her stunned silence, he continued. “Both ladies and gentleman are seeking instruction due to the growing popularity of the waltz.”

“The waltz? You can’t be serious.” Some considered the close proximity of the dancers scandalous.

“Don’t be such a stickler. As I said, the waltz has become quite popular,” he said.

She frowned. “What of Madame Beauxbaton herself? People will undoubtedly ask her about our so-called lessons,” she pointed out.

He dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. “It’s not a problem. She works for Wendover.”

“Really? I would never have guessed.”

“That’s the point, my dear.”

My dear.
The endearment was improper, yet her pulse quickened at the flattery nonetheless.

“It’s the perfect story,” Kirkland said. “It’s quite romantic, don’t you think, to meet during dance instruction? The women will be gushing over the tale.”

The gossips would be in their glory. The daughter of the Mad Marquess had snared the most handsome bachelor in the realm while paying to learn how to dance the waltz. His appearance, combined with his title and wealth, had probably sent the debutantes and mamas of the
ton
into a frenzy.

His lips curled in a lazy smile. “The Camerons are hosting a ball tomorrow night. Wendover is friendly with Lady Cameron, and she has agreed to announce our engagement. You had planned to attend, correct?”

“Yes,” she said hesitantly.

She had agreed to attend only because Lord Cameron had been an acquaintance of her father’s. But now, the notion that her engagement would be publically announced made her highly uneasy. A hundred guests would attend the ball, all of them influential members of society.

Her chest tightened uncomfortably. It was one thing to tell her cousin she was engaged in the privacy of her workshop, but another entirely to have it announced in the Cameron’s ballroom. There would be no going back; she was agreeing to a betrothal with Lord Kirkland, however long, to aid in investigating the Inventors’ Society.