The Fashionable Spy (4 page)

“Miss Dancy is sleeping, the effects of the knock on her head, you know. What is it you have to report?” Then he noticed a cluster of men, horses, and a dray along the road. The Dancy vehicle was being hauled atop the low dray for transport. Two men stood by his own carriage, inspecting the damage to it.

“Both the coaches are going in to Canterbury, sir,” Higgens replied. “Yours can be fixed in a day or two, at least well enough to proceed. Miss Dancy may well wish to consider traveling on by post chaise, for hers is in a sorry state.”

“Aye,” Sam nodded. “She’ll not be best pleased about this. I expect her sisters will prefer a new coach to repairing this one, it’s that bad.”

“Is money a problem? Has she enough to cover the costs involved?” Traveling was expensive, and to go by post chaise and pair was the most costly. He had no idea how well-off Lord Dancy might be, nor how well-paid Victoria was for her work. It seemed reasonable to him that if she modeled busts, and received payment for them, she did so because she had need of the money. Perhaps her scholarly parents had been improvident.

“She is well enough fixed, I expect.” Sam gave Sir Edward a shrewd look, then added, “She’s an independent lass, and won’t take kindly to an offer of money.”

Edward understood what the man was implying, and pulled his purse out. Several pounds exchanged hands, followed by a grateful nod from Sam.

“I’ll see
to it this is
spent where needed, sir.”

Edward had debated over the matter of his charge. Was she well enough to make a jolting trip to Canterbury? He had yet to convince her of the need for marriage. His own trip to Dover was pointless; by now his informant would be long gone—urgency had been stressed. Besides, he found the beautiful Miss Dancy quite intriguing. Memory of the blue-iris locket returned. He needed to learn more about her, for a number of reasons.

He turned to Higgens. “Miss Dancy is not well enough to travel as yet. It is dangerous to travel so soon after a concussion. I fear to move her. Send a coach for us on the morrow.”

And with that instruction, the men went back to the group that waited for them. Within a short time the road was empty again, the figures a distant blur through the drizzle.

The warmth of the fire was most welcome, especially to his leg, which ached from exposure to the damp. The doctor has promised it would get better in time, but Edward wondered if it actually would. He didn’t have a great deal of faith in doctors.

He leaned back in the one and only chair and relaxed, waiting for the promised game of cards.

* * * *

When Victoria awoke from her restoring nap, she again felt that disorientation. Then she caught sight of Sir Edward and all memory returned. Plague take it, why couldn’t the man have disappeared while she slept? She didn’t believe he really wanted to marry with her, and it would have offered a neat solution had he simply gone off to Dover. Why hadn’t he?

He had a deck of cards and now pulled the deal table over by the fire. It was a pleasant scene, a blazing fire, the rustic brick hearth and walls, with all manner of tools and necessities hanging on the far wall. The tang of wood smoke hung in the air. The man who awaited her had best be ignored if possible. But she doubted if he would allow that, for he was one who compelled the eye, drew a lingering glance. He was a disturbing element to her hard-earned tranquility. She watched while he pulled forward the bed, so he might sit.

“Well, Miss Dancy. Shall we see what manner of card player you are? I trust you are not one to frequent the gaming establishments.”

“La, sir, what do you think? I am as skilled as most young women my age.”

They elected to play a hand of euchre. Victoria soon observed that she was no match for him in this game. Before she realized it. Sir Edward had captured most of the tricks and she went down to defeat.

She wondered if her lack of concentration was due to the circumstances, or if it was merely his proximity. Determined to beat him at something, for some unknown, but no doubt complex, reason, she suggested they continue at something else. She thought his grin quite odious.

“Piquet?”

She nodded agreement, and hoped that she had not forgotten all her brother had taught her. Sir Edward dealt the cards with skill and she gathered her hand to study it. Victoria settled in her chair, resolved to best him this time around. The play began and she found she could hold her own very well against him. By blocking him out, concentrating on the cards alone, she managed to earn a respectable score.

At length Sir Edward rose to light a candle he had found.

Victoria glanced to the window, absently noting that the wind was down and that the rain appeared to have dwindled to nothing more than a mist. She prayed that it would continue to abate. While it was too late for her to execute her plan today, she would on the morrow for certain.

“What is going on in your head, Victoria?” Sir Edward mused aloud.

“The rain seems to be lessening. I am anxious to be gone.”

He pretended affront. “You are tired of my company! Alas.” Then he paused before continuing. “Your coachman was here earlier. I neglected to tell you when you woke up. They carted your coach to Canterbury for possible repairs, but he suspects it may take some time. In which case you shall require a post chaise and pair to get to London. Will that be a problem?”

Victoria sat with her jaw tightly clenched, absolutely furious with him, then exploded. “They were here? And you did not wake me? I would have gone with them to Canterbury. I might have been halfway to London by now.”

She dropped the cards on the table and jumped up to pace back and forth in the small room, anger evident in her every step. “Oh,” she fumed, “I cannot believe you would do such a thing when you knew how much I wished to leave. Believe me, sir, when I say I had rather be miles from here at the moment. No insult to your company intended,” she snapped.

She glared at the arrogant tilt of his head, and realized she had indeed insulted him. “You made an honorable offer,” she reminded him. “I refused. Why did
you
not leave when you could?”

“And leave you prey to anyone who might come along? I perceive your regard for me is not high, but I am not so heedless as all that.’’

“I have my protection, thank you very much!” She beckoned to Sable, who obediently trotted to her side.

“I noticed just how faithful he is.” Sarcasm dripped from his words as he snapped his fingers, and Sable walked to his side, beaming idiotically up at the gentleman who had fed him this morning.

“Oh,” she stormed. “If you must know, you are the first man Sable has ever accepted in any way, other than my brother. I rely on the dog to protect me when I am in the houses of those noble politicians who too frequently desire more than just a bust to place on a stand or mantel.”

Sir Edward tossed his cards on the table and rose to go to her side. He took her chin in hand. “Protect you?”

“Sable,” she managed to utter in a strangled voice, snapping her fingers weakly.

To his credit, Sable growled. Victoria fancied the dog was as puzzled as she over her difficulty. Why, after all this time, had Sir Edward chosen to behave in this manner?

“Sir,” she whispered as his face neared, “you forget yourself.’’

He stepped away from her, dropping his hand to his side. “So I do.” He ran long fingers through his hair, then glanced at her again. “I suspect this is why they keep young women secluded and under guard.”

Victoria merely nodded, and the tension in the room eased a trifle. She had not managed to avoid, quite cleverly, she thought, the amorous intentions of the various men that she sculptured without learning something. Why did so many feel she would welcome their attentions? Oh, it was true that a few were attractive and possibly tempting. But she’d no desire to become involved in a clandestine liaison. She had met only one man she had wished with all her heart was not already wed. One embrace forced her to accept the danger of her position. She’d acquired Sable as her constant guard, and the dog daunted the most assertive man.

The dog had done its job well . . . until now. Why, of all the men in the world, did Sable choose Sir Edward Hawkswood to slaver over?

The remainder of the day was spent in playing cards. Victoria tried to concentrate, so that she might avoid contemplating what it would be like to become involved with Sir Edward. She was not a little green girl just out of the schoolroom. Stolen kisses were not beyond her.

From time to time she glanced at him, memorizing his facial structure. She would sculpture him just for herself. A smile touched her lips as she thought of how silly that sounded, hiding the bust of a handsome man in her room, just to gaze upon it in idle moments. It was the combination of that aristocratic nose and brow with the unexpectedly sensual mouth that drew her, compelled her to look again and again. The planes of his cheeks, the shape of his head, were beautiful in a masculine way. He fascinated her. And in that path lay danger.

At last the fading light forced their desultory card games to an end. She rose from her chair

He gallantly returned the bed upon which he’d sat to the original position against the wall, then stood there looking down at her.

She could read his feelings in his eyes then. The attraction she felt was mutual. But what madness, to yield to a passion. Passions were so fleeting, so undependable. She turned aside to pick up the blanket with an inward struggle, looking about to see how Sir Edward would manage for the night. Then she sat down and prepared to make the best of the circumstances and get some needed sleep.

Her portmanteau, with its secret, was stowed at the end of her bed. He oddly enough had displayed no curiosity over it, and she decided not to draw attention to it in any way.

Would she remain safe? From herself as well as from him? She patted her bed, taking comfort from Sable’s nearness as he curled up close to her.

“What are your virginal fears, my lady,” Sir Edward taunted, “that you call your loyal dog to your side? Do you fear that I might steal a kiss?
Or more? I daresay you would survive the first, and I should not consider the latter.”

She sniffed, and was surprised when he leaned over to drop a swift kiss on her upturned mouth. It was over before she could protest, and she admitted to a faintly bereft feeling deep inside her. Loath to reveal her inner reactions to this now-dangerous man, she snapped, “Keep your distance, sir. Sable
will
obey a command from me.”

Walking to the far side of the room. Sir Edward sank down on the one chair. His deep chuckle unsettled her. With great difficulty she turned to face the wall and hoped she might find a few winks of sleep this night. She needed to be rested for what she had in mind. The ache in her head subsided and she drifted to sleep, feeling secure in the most absurd way that she would have no necessity for Sable’s defense.

When next she opened her eyes she could discern faint light from the window. Gingerly sitting up in bed, she discovered that her head was near normal. Across the room Sable curled up near the fire, close to where Sir Edward stretched out beneath his greatcoat on the hearth rug.

The fire burned brightly, evidence of frequent tending during the night. Victoria waited a few moments, then, satisfied Sir Edward was sound asleep, edged from her bed. In a few minutes she had donned her other gown and the ruined half-boots.

She debated, then emptied the contents of her fountain ring into a small mug of ale, taking care not to be observed. In spite of her attempts to be quiet, he had awakened. With a deep breath for Dutch courage, she walked to where the man now watched her.

“Your breakfast ale, sir?” she said with what she hoped was a parody of a pert maid.

“How kind,” he replied with that charming smile. He finished the drink, then relaxed on the rug again while Victoria busied herself about the little room, folding the blanket, stowing her other clothing away.

“I vow, ‘tis cozy in here. The rain has subsided, and I fancy we might be rescued before long.” She chattered on softly about nothing in particular, finally risking a glance at him again. He was sound asleep, albeit a drugged sleep.

Swiftly donning her gray cloak, she snapped her fingers at Sable. The dog came, reluctantly leaving the man on the floor behind.

“Sable, we cannot be sentimental.” At the door she paused, taking a long look at Sir Edward, committing those bewitching features to memory before resolutely turning away.

Together the pair slipped from the little windmill that had housed them, then began to trudge along the road to Canterbury.

Chapter 3

A round-eyed Rosemary tugged at the skirts of her newly returned and dearly beloved aunt. Her babbling was, as usual, quite incomprehensible, her concern obvious.

Her twin, the more silent Tansy, sat on the floor of the morning room, staring at her aunt with a worried expression on her face. She clutched the wooden doll her aunt had brought her with fierce possession, never mind her twin had an identical one dangling from her hand.

“Aunt is quite all right, dearest,” murmured Victoria, smoothing a tangled curl back from Rosemary’s forehead while wondering how much she need reveal to her eldest sister.

“Go and play with your pretty dolls, children. Mama wishes to talk with Aunt Victoria,” commanded Julia in a kindly but firm tone that the children knew better than to ignore. The twins settled down near the hearth to examine their new toys while their mama fixed her sister with a minatory expression. “Well? I postponed questioning you until this morning, for when you returned last evening, you looked worn to a flinder.”

“It was not quite so bad as all that,” Victoria said with a bit of spirit. “The walk to Canterbury was blessedly cut short when a farmer gave me a ride on his cart for most of the way. Once I arrived in Canterbury it was but a minor problem to locate Sam and the chaise.” She added thoughtfully, “That is a lovely town, really. We must visit there someday.”

“But to carry those cases? And your head injured?” Julia was clearly not to be appeased easily.