Page 18 of His Wife, the Spy (His Enterprising Duchess #4)

“B ath was busier than I’d expected it to be during the Season,” Mother said as she poured more tea. “I suppose everyone took the opportunity to leave London during the break.”

“I’m relieved to hear it.” Annabel took the cup and shifted her attention to her sisters. “Did you enjoy yourselves?”

Rachel bounced against the sofa cushions the way she’d done last Christmas when she received her first piece of jewelry—a delicate diamond bracelet. “The Lambourn townhouse is lovely, and so many of the young ladies accepted our invitation for tea.” Her eyes went wide. “You don’t think the countess will mind that we entertained, do you? She did tell us to treat it as though it was ours.”

“She will be happy that you heeded her instructions.” As long as Father didn’t follow them and steal the silver. “Were there very many parties?”

“We had a stack of invitations waiting when we arrived.” Mother was almost as excited as Rachel. “The girls danced almost every night. Peter Drew, the heir to the Earl of Makepeace, danced with Rachel at each opportunity. The last night we were there he asked for two sets.”

“Then Madame Fleur’s hours of lessons have been worth the torture.” Annabel winked at her sister and put her still-full, cooling teacup on the table.

It wasn’t the tea’s fault. It was a higher quality than they’d been drinking when she’d left, and they had cubes of sugar now rather than honey.

The tea service unnerved her. Her mother had two. The family service was heavy, plain pottery made by a tenant years before Annabel had been born, likely several barons ago. The inside of the pot was mud brown from years of use, and the large cups fit to your hand to warm your palm and provide comfort on cold days. The guest service was fine porcelain, hand-painted and gilt-edged. It was lovely, but the cups were too small to be satisfying. They were also difficult to hold. Mother only pulled them from the pantry when she wanted to impress a visitor.

This was the guest service.

A painting opposite her caught Annabel’s eye. It had always hung upstairs in Mother’s room. It was her favorite. It was Annabel’s, too. She’d spent hours staring into the rolling green landscape, imagining the soft grass against her feet and the rain-scented wind in her loose hair.

It looked very much like Wiltshire and the Ramsbury estate.

“You’ve moved this from upstairs?”

Mother nodded. “Rebecca suggested that it would add something to this room, and I believe she was right. It’s like doing my needlework with an old friend.” She smiled up at the artwork. “It looks so much brighter since we’ve had it cleaned.”

Annabel turned her attention to her middle sister, who had yet to say anything other than hello. Rebecca wasn’t as bubbly as Rachel, and her temper matched Annabel’s—as did her wit. But she was a lovely girl, especially when she smiled, which wasn’t often of late. “And you, Rebecca?” Annabel teased. “Did you leave a smitten suitor behind.”

“No.”

“Rebecca preferred the soldiers in attendance,” Rachel said in the gossipy tone preferred by the ton . “I will say their uniforms added a bit of flash in amongst all the evening suits.”

“Their conversations were more interesting as well,” Rebecca said. “They could talk about more than horses and dance steps and how much they’d lost at cards.”

“I’m sure they were interesting, and those we met were polite and treated all the ladies well.” Mother looked over the rim of her teacup. “Many navy officers have done quite well for themselves, but I’m not certain a military man is suitable. Wouldn’t you agree?”

As the eldest, Annabel had been in this position many times before. Mother never wanted to be the one who said no, at least not on her own. Usually, her requests were small.

This one wasn’t. Given Rebecca’s rising color, she was ready for a fight. And now Annabel knew men like Yarwood. He didn’t like her, but he had always been loyal to Jasper.

“I don’t, Mother. Yes, some military men can be rogues and scoundrels, but not all of them are. Just like all young men in Society aren’t gentlemen.” Annabel nodded to her sister. “I’m glad you weren’t bored, Rebecca.”

“We saw Colonel Spencer at several events,” Rachel said. “He cuts quite a dashing figure.”

Nothing like his younger brother, then. “Sir Reginald spoke often of him and his successes. The family is quite proud of him.”

Annabel always though Sir Reginald sounded a bit like Rebecca when she thought Rachel got a prettier hat.

The clock in the hallway chimed, signaling the hour. “I must be going. Jasper will be home soon, and I need to prepare for the Bainbridges’ ball.” Father would be home soon as well.

“I’m so looking forward to it.” Rachel’s smile glittered. “Isn’t it romantic?”

“Oh yes.” Rebecca’s sharp stare fastened on to Annabel. “Romantic.”

A familiar irritation simmered under her skin. It didn’t matter that she shared Rebecca’s opinion about the evening. Neither of them should ruin Rachel’s excitement. Annabel stood and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I do wish you’d change your mind and attend.”

“London parties can be trying.” Mother blinked, and the clouds in her eyes cleared. “Besides, I danced quite enough in Bath.” She squeezed Annabel’s fingers. “Enjoy the evening, dear. Give my best to Lord Ramsbury.”

Annabel was in the hallway securing her hat when the reflection in the mirror distracted her. “What is it, Rebecca?”

“Why did you send us to Bath rather than the Alfords’ house party?” The words were hard, but Rebecca knew better than to yell. A loud argument would do nothing but upset Mother and Rachel.

Annabel pulled her sister into the dining room and closed the door. “You have to ask that?”

“So you catch a marquess at a house party, and Rachel chooses between barons and earls in Bath?”

“Rachel gets to choose,” Annabel snapped. “As do you.”

“I certainly do.” Rebecca sounded anything but grateful—or happy.

“What do you want, Rebecca?” Annabel’s fists struck her hips. “Bad tea and no art or silver in the house? Nights listening to other families’ carriages rock by on their way to parties we weren’t invited to attend? A lifetime of being in the shadows?”

“When you left us at the first of the year, you claimed you would rather be in the shadows than trapped in Papa’s schemes.” Rebecca mirrored her pose, putting them nose to nose. “And you changed your mind.”

Burning words climbed Annabel’s throat. “I gave you and Rachel a chance for life you would have never—”

“You told us you were going to prove to Father that his scheming was worthless and that you could care for yourself. Instead you did exactly what he’d planned in the first place.” Rebecca’s eyes glittered. “And don’t say it was for us, to give us what we wanted, because you never asked.”

Taken aback by the unshed tears, Annabel drew a deep breath and straightened. “Then tell me.”

Rebecca blinked.

“Would you have preferred to go the house party?” Annabel worked to banish the sarcasm of her question. She thought she could guess the answer, but this was about more than being right.

“Rachel was disappointed, I think, but we didn’t have much time to talk about it. She was busy packing while I was hiding anything Father could sell while we were gone.”

Which was why the painting had been cleaned. “Smart girl.”

“Good of you to notice.” Rebecca snorted a laugh. “I wanted to go to the country to be out in the air, but Bath was almost as good. Plus there were lectures on all sorts of topics. A botanist spent an entire afternoon discussing and displaying the orchids he’d gathered from the jungle.”

“You always did like flowers.” Annabel walked away from the door and propped her hip against the table, much like Jasper did when they were talking. She was grateful when her sister followed.

“Plants, Annie. I like plants.”

“And I despise Annie .”

“Because Father always shortens our names when he wants something,” Rebecca said. Her lips twisted. “But I draw the line at Lady Ramsbury.”

“Unless we’re in public.” Annabel winked. “Speaking of which, we received an invitation to an upcoming Botanical Society lecture. Would you like to attend with me? Jasper will be in Lords.” She would miss sitting next to him on the main floor while they tried not to laugh at the gray-bearded men who were shocked by her presence.

“I would, thank you.” Rebecca nibbled her bottom lip for a moment. “Do you think we could find a Latin tutor as well?”

“I’ll do my best.” It would be difficult to find one who wouldn’t be scandalized by teaching a young lady.

Annabel blinked. For the first time in years, she didn’t worry about the expense. She knew Jasper’s accounts like she knew her favorite novel. She also didn’t worry about whether Jasper would agree. He was generous to a fault with his family.

“The next time we visit Ramsbury, we’ll take you with us. The gardens there are being redone, and the man leading the project is a wonderful teacher.”

Rebecca pulled her into a quick, tight embrace. “Thank you.” When she pulled away, her smile was bright. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Rachel and I wondered, at first. But he seems to be kind, and he’s almost always in good humor. He is, isn’t he? He’s not one way when we’re there and then another when you’re alone?”

The knot in her throat kept Annabel from speaking. All she could do was shake her head.

“You smile more, and you say his name very often in conversation.” Rebecca’s eyes gleamed as she leaned forward, the same as when they’d shared sisterly secrets. “Jane and Johanna say he’s quite besotted.”

He had also quite thoroughly convinced the ton he was a drunkard while sipping on water. Heat climbed Annabel’s neck. “You four shouldn’t gossip.”

“As though we have anything else to do during piano lessons.” Rebecca rolled her eyes. “And you know Rachel. It’s so romantic. ”

“Don’t tease her so.” Annabel led the way from the dining room to the front door.

After one last tight embrace with her sister, she left the house in a better mood than when she had arrived. Her improving relationship with Rebecca was one reason. The other was that Jasper would be waiting at the other end of her journey.

And, yes, despite everything, it was rather romantic.

*

“Pardon me. So sorry.” Jasper tipped his hat to yet another lady, this one because he’d plowed into the other end of her pram.

The baby wailed in his wake as he refocused on the pedestrians in front of him. It was easier to find Raines now that the sea of hats had thinned to a trickle, but it was just as difficult to keep up with him.

“Mind your feet, sir.”

“My apologies.” Jasper tipped his hat without looking before skirting around another slow-moving couple.

A woman’s sturdy, simple cane caught his eye at the last possible moment. He stepped right to avoid kicking it away from her and jostled someone else. Someone much shorter.

“Paper, sir?”

Jasper pulled a coin from his pocket and took the paper with a quick nod and an even briefer smile. It still smelled of ink and would stain his gloves, but it might be a useful disguise. If Raines had spotted him earlier, the paper could throw him off at a second glance.

The young viscount turned the corner, heading away from Mayfair and deeper into town.

Damnation. That was the wrong way. Perhaps he should admit defeat and go home. It was where he wanted to be anyway. He slowed his steps and watched his quarry escape, second-guessing his decision to follow the man in the first place.

“I say! This is a coincidence. How are you, Ramsbury?”

Jasper glanced first to his father-in-law and then up the street to make certain Raines hadn’t heard the enthusiastic greeting.

“Baron Chilworth. How are you?” He renewed his pursuit.

All day, something had itched at the back of his brain. It had begun in Lords, where he’d caught Raines staring a few times too often.

“I’ve just come from Patton’s, and he’s given me the good news,” Chilworth said. He was quieter now that he had to keep up with Jasper’s purposeful stride. “It’s an odd wedding gift, though. Most husbands give jewelry. I gave my lady wife a set that…”

Annabel’s eyes don’t light up over jewelry.

Jasper had followed Raines to White’s, where the younger man had joined a game of cards and Jasper chose a table with his back to the room, his face to a mirror. He’d reviewed his notes from the day and welcomed anyone who wished to speak with him, but the back of his neck prickled the entire time.

“And it’s just in time, as well—the mine stock offer is closing soon,” Chilworth said as he fell into step.

“The money will go to your creditors,” Jasper said as he checked his pace. It wouldn’t do to pass the young viscount on the street simply because he wished to be rid of Annabel’s father. If he had to double back, Raines would grow suspicious. He wasn’t daft.

“I’m sure many of them would be satisfied with a bulk payment and a note for the rest,” Chilworth said. He was huffing in his attempt to keep pace.

“Patton will make the payments to them personally,” Jasper snapped. “The money will not go into your hands.”

Having played cards with Raines on several occasions, Jasper respected his skill and his strategy. Today he’d watched him do it. His wagers were smaller than normal, and, though always taciturn, he’d spoken few words. He also stared at his cards too long on rounds where he folded. There was a secret there, but Jasper would have to catch him to find it.

“Oh, well then. At least it will free up capital for—”

Jasper stopped his pursuit and faced the baron, heedless of the crowd moving past them and who might hear. He wasn’t certain if the man was hapless or stubborn. Perhaps he was addled in some way. Surely no man this stupid could have a daughter as brilliant as Annabel.

Regardless, it was vital that Chilworth hear this conversation and grasp its meaning. “I have written to every banker in London, threatening to remove my money should they loan a penny to you without my approval. Which you will not have.”

The man’s eyes widened in his red, sweaty face. “See here! That’s overstepping.”

It likely was, but this man’s carelessness had pushed his daughter into more than one devil’s bargain. “Dear God, Chilworth. Will you not be happy until all your daughters are in service?”

“I did not send Annabel into service. She chose it to spite me.” The baron’s eyes flashed. “I told her to take one more Season and do everything she could to make a match.”

In Society, with outdated fashions and no dowry, throwing herself at any man who would have her like a bird flailing against a cage. Jasper had seen too many young ladies like that in ballrooms. He knew what men said about them, and he knew the offers they made. Chilworth did, too. It was there in the words he chose. Not a husband—a match.

“And look at her now. A marchioness.”

But not of her own free will. Not really. And—dear God—the man seemed to believe the gossip about his own daughter. “Do you realize how badly this could have gone for her? Or do you simply not care?”

“Look here, lad. You’ve no right to look down your nose at me for trying to better my lot.”

“I don’t look down on you for that, Chilworth.” Raines was almost to the end of the block, where he’d be lost in the shopping crowds. Jasper had wasted enough time on this foolish man who only thought of himself. “I look down on you because you were blind to what you already had.”

He left the man standing and threaded his way through the crowd. If Raines looked back, it would be impossible to hide his purpose.

The viscount reached his destination and removed his hat before entering Gunter’s.

Jasper had damn near broken his neck to follow a man who was going for ices. Kit would be laughing his arse off. If he were here.

Jasper again weighed proceeding against catching a cab and heading for home.

In for a penny…

He strolled by the window and glanced inside. Raines was escorting Charlotte Bainbridge to a table. Sometimes men said unguarded things to the women in their lives. Perhaps their conversation could be useful.

Men did not go into Gunter’s alone.

A tap on the window caught his attention. Fiona waved from her table in the sunshine.

Jasper strode into the shop and dropped his paper and hat to the table before bowing over her hand. “Thank you for waiting. I ran into a distraction on the street.”

She blinked for a moment before catching his game. “You’re lucky Mrs. Linden has the day off, or she would have pushed me out the door after five minutes in fear I’d look desperate for company.” She thrust his belongings at him and stood. “Let’s move to the back. This sun is warmer than I expected.”

Jasper led her to a table near enough to watch Raines but far enough to have an alibi.

“You got newsprint on my gloves,” Fiona groused. “Mrs. Linden will have to scrub them twice as hard.”

“You could wash them yourself.” He swept his eyes down the menu. “The sunshine was pleasant, I thought.”

“I’d rather not see Scandalized Socialite Seduces Marquess as tomorrow’s gossip headline.” She flicked a glance toward Charlotte. “I quite like Annabel, you know.”

Jasper winked at her. “So do I.”

The server came to take their order. Lemon for Fiona, and vanilla for Jasper.

“I’m glad to hear it, but your domestic bliss is cheating me out of ballroom gossip. Do you two do nothing but stay at home?”

“We just returned from Ramsbury.”

Fiona paused for a moment, nibbling her lip. “How are things?”

“You’ve spoken with Mother?” Her nod gave him permission to drop his guard. “Nothing much has changed since.”

He’d received one letter from Kit, but the message had only been about the progress in Wales. Claudette had charmed Gareth’s family, and their reconciliation had unified the Welsh constabulary’s pursuit of Collins.

Annabel had stopped paying Kit’s wages.

The pay had begun as a salve to his conscience. Kit hadn’t wanted it, but Jasper could think of nothing else to do for a man who insisted on walking through every door first, who dropped everything on a whim, and spent his time in unsavory crowds doing little but hiding in the dark.

Their ices arrived, and Jasper tucked into his. He didn’t particularly like vanilla, but there had been too many other choices, and his head was beginning to ache.

“This can’t be easy for him either,” Fiona said.

Jasper had been overwhelmed when he took his father’s title, and he’d been prepared for it since birth. Kit had been at his side, watching everything as an outsider, keeping his inheritance a secret while being employed by his cousin. “I’m sure it isn’t, but he hasn’t asked for help.”

Jasper had been paying his cousin to be his friend.

“I’m glad we could see each other today,” Fiona said. “Father is sending me to Paris again.”

What scrape had she gotten into now? “I thought Mrs. Linden was keeping you out of trouble.”

“I am keeping myself out of trouble, thank you. She is there as my guardian angel.” Though Fiona’s tone was light, she was fiddling with her ice as it melted. “He’s decided I should go back out next Season. A visit with Mr. Worth is the first step.”

“Fi.” He resisted covering her hand with his. Charlotte would be too happy to spread a rumor neither Fiona nor Annabel needed. Instead, he waited for her gaze to meet his.

The doubt he saw there touched the same spot Jane and Johanna found. He wanted to do more to the man that had hurt her than simply break his nose. “You’ll be the star of every ball.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Not a diamond?”

“Diamonds are overrated.” He said it loud enough for Charlotte to hear. “Annabel says so.”

His skin prickled. He glanced from Fiona to Raines and caught the young man staring again. Just like he stared at his cards before folding.

When he had something to hide.