Page 8 of His Wife, the Spy (His Enterprising Duchess #4)

“Y ou send me to Cardiff and get married while I’m gone?” Kit pushed himself from the mantel and came back to the desk. “To the woman you caught poking around your bedroom.”

“Don’t loom over me.” Jasper dropped his pen into the ink pot. “It wasn’t my intention.”

“The timing or the wedding?”

“Both.” Jasper blotted the letter to Claudette before folding it with as crisp a crease as possible given the ten-pound notes contained within. “Though I would have waited if I’d known it would put your nose out of joint.”

Kit moved the seal out of reach. “Jasper. Your new wife wants to see you hang.”

“Name a wife in London who doesn’t want to see their husband swing.”

His best friend stood speechless, his face deepening to purple with alarming speed. Jasper finally took pity on him.

“I wouldn’t have married Annabel if I thought she was a danger to my life span or my freedom.” He dropped bits of blue sealing wax into the crucible he’d used since his father’s death. “Or to the queen.”

“So why did you marry her?”

Jasper had been asking himself the same question since he’d left Annabel in her father’s library after their odd betrothal negotiations. He’d gone there intending to apologize and offer to help find her a place somewhere the gossip wouldn’t reach. Then he’d seen Spencer’s carriage near the house and decided, instead, to give her a piece of his mind.

But she’d been in tears, which reminded him of Fiona and the muddle she was still trying to climb free of. The difference was that Fiona’s scandal was based on fact, and her family had money the ton couldn’t ignore. Annabel didn’t. “Fiona tore a strip off me for being a careless, heartless lout.”

“Fiona.” Kit rolled his eyes. “Her redemption is becoming a pain in the arse.”

The phrase took Jasper back to the library, where he’d sworn without thinking and Annabel hadn’t reprimanded him for his manners. Surprisingly, it seemed to put her at ease. There had been something about her honesty and wry humor that had done the same for him, despite her association with Spencer.

“Annabel is the best path toward learning Spencer’s game.”

“You could have simply asked her,” Kit said.

“She wouldn’t have told me.” Jasper didn’t believe she knew. Spencer had proven to be wily prey because he kept his own counsel.

“Everyone has a price, Jasper.”

Annabel’s had been the chance for her sisters to find suitable husbands and an allowance for her mother. He put the wax over the candle. “Her loyalty is not for sale.”

“Goddammit, Jasper.” Kit pushed himself from the chair and ambled to the liquor cabinet. After filling a glass, he stood at the window. The afternoon light spilled over his shoulders and onto his back. “You’ve yoked yourself to someone who depends on your enemy for safety.”

Jasper was wagering that Annabel didn’t depend on Spencer for anything. She was smarter than that. He was hoping vows in a church and keeping his word would buy him the time to win her to his side.

Or his ego was getting the better of him. “Perhaps.”

“You say that the way you did at Eton when you were convinced of your answer, even if it didn’t match the lecture.”

The indigo wax pooled in the crucible. “What did you find in Cardiff?”

“The miners are all whispering about a new company, fronted by Abel Collins.”

“What do we know about him?”

“Da’s known him for years. He’s strong as an ox and as determined as a man has to be to go down a shaft every day and come out black inside and out. And the word is that you’d rather have him on your side in a fight. But Da has never trusted him. He definitely has a price.”

“Do you know what he’s doing?”

“Not yet,” Kit said. “Everyone whispers, but there’s nothing solid. What I do know is that he’s got a pub he favors and a table in the corner that’s always full of foremen and shift leaders. He always picks up the tab.”

“Not his money?”

Kit shook his head. “No way in hell. He’s always paid his own way, but just his own way. Someone is bankrolling him for something.”

Jasper poured the wax over the envelope and placed his seal in the center.

I have Some exploSive goSSip to Share when I arrive in London, Gareth had written.

The letter had arrived, but he hadn’t. He also hadn’t returned to his wife in Paris. No one had seen him riding in a coach or aboard a ship. Their friend had vanished. More likely, his body was yet to be found. “Could Gareth and Collins have crossed paths?”

“The pub is near the docks and is attached to a reputable inn. There’s also a post service across the street.” The ice rattled in Kit’s glass. “It’s why I started there.”

Jasper lifted the seal from the envelope. The ram’s head with curved horns that was part of his family crest stared back at him. “The S’s in Gareth’s letter could simply mean he was in a hurry to make the post.”

“Claudette can produce numerous letters, written in battle, where he never made that error,” Kit argued. “He meant Spencer. I’m certain of it.”

I never should have told him anything about Sir Reginald Spencer and why he needed to be stopped. His involvement—his death—lies squarely with me.

“And even if he didn’t, he still discovered something that someone killed him to hide,” Kit said.

The front door opened, and the hall echoed with the chatter and giggling of four young women all rushing to speak at once.

Kit scooped the letter from the desk and slipped it into his coat pocket. “We’ll talk more later.”

“As you wish.” Jasper rose from the desk. Given the noise in the hallway, he could have shouted their plot and not been heard. That was one of the problems with sharing his mother’s home while Ramsbury House was under repair.

The benefit, however, was that the presence of his family helped ease the awkwardness of newlywed life as he and Annabel got better acquainted.

He stopped at the door. His new wife was flanked by his mother and surrounded by his sisters and hers in their colorful day dresses and large-brimmed bonnets, but her wide smile and sparkling eyes made her stand out. Her alto-pitched laugh harmonized with the girls’ shrill giggles.

If Jasper had ever seen her like this near the ferns in a ballroom, he wouldn’t have forgotten it. And, predictably, it faded when she saw him.

“Do it again, Annie. Do it again!”

The family name made her seem younger, but her cheeks flushed in a way that Jasper recognized from experience. The shortened name agitated her.

“Here now.” He waded into the fray to reach Annabel’s side, leaving Kit behind. “Lady Ramsbury, if you please, Miss Pearce.”

Rebecca, Annabel’s next oldest sister, bobbed a quick curtsy, but her eyes flashed. “Yes, your lordship.” Her frown made the end of her sentence pop like a pebble against a window.

“Behave, Rebecca.” Annabel’s words were quiet, but they caught and held her sister’s attention.

Unwilling to let the exchange ruin the gaiety or his quest to learn more, Jasper widened his smile as he looked down at his wife. “What must you do again ?”

The laughter had gone from her eyes. “The girls are simply easy to entertain.”

“No,” Johanna said, her giggles erupting again. “Jasper, you should have heard Annie—Lady Ramsbury—in the coach. She perfectly mimics Madame Theodore, right down to the tilt of her pointy chin.”

“I would swear her nose grew as we bounced along the cobbles,” Rachel added, with a wide smile that resembled Annabel’s.

“Don’t swear, Rachel.” Annabel looked past them. “Especially not in front of our visitor. It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Yarwood.”

Kit stepped forward, and Jasper held his breath in dreadful anticipation.

“Lady Ramsbury.” Kit’s bow was stiff and shallow, but it was enough to be polite. “May I congratulate you on your wedding?”

“Thank you.” Annabel’s curtsy was quick, and her cheeks flushed cherry red. “That is very kind. I regret that you were not in London and able to attend.” She turned to the younger ladies. “May I present my sisters, Miss Rachel Pearce and Miss Rebecca Pearce?”

“Miss Pearce, Rebecca.” Kit’s smile widened as he shifted his attention to the rest of the party. “Janie. Jo-Jo. It is good to see you again.”

Jasper’s sisters ran squealing to the man they’d known since they were in the nursery. They’d learned to knit so they could send him lopsided scarves and mismatched socks while he was fighting in Egypt—though Jasper had told them woolens and sand were a poor combination.

Annabel’s sisters stayed rooted to the floor. Rachel’s mouth fell open. A quick elbow from the new marchioness reminded her to close it.

“That’s quite enough,” Mother declared, clapping loudly to call her daughters back to proper behavior and a proper distance. Jane and Johanna reluctantly obeyed.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Lambourn.” Kit bowed with the same military precision he’d given Annabel. “Forgive me, but I must be on my way.”

Jasper saw him to the door. Behind them, Mother and Annabel directed the girls upstairs to change clothes for an afternoon of art practice at home.

“Stay aware, Jasper. She is more dangerous—”

“I may not be a soldier, but I’m perfectly capable of looking after my interests.” Jasper put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Given Kit’s wince, it landed harder than he had intended. “Stay focused on the connection, Kit. Not the distraction.”

He closed the door and went to the upstairs drawing room, where his mother preferred to take tea.

“My apologies for the outburst earlier, Lady Lambourn.” Annabel’s quiet words carried into the hallway. “I should not have encouraged the girls with that unkind impersonation.”

“Your behavior had nothing to do with theirs. Jane and Johanna have always been hoydens. They inherited it from the Chitester side of the family.”

Jasper smiled. Cousin Amelia was the epitome of a hoyden, but it was difficult to imagine his mother as anything but prim and proper.

“And your impersonation was flawless.” Humor warmed Mother’s words. “That horrible woman deserves your unkindness and much more.”

Then again, Mother always surprised him. He rapped on the door before entering. “I take it the French terror and Belinda Wallace were at Lady Carmichael’s luncheon?” He chose a seat near enough to Annabel to see her reactions.

“They were, though their remarks were mild thanks to Lady Lambourn’s presence.” She poured him a cup of tea the way he liked it and delivered it. Their fingers brushed, and she snatched hers away as though he were made of thorns.

Was she nervous or frightened of him? What had Spencer told her to gain her involvement in his plot?

“Nonsense,” Mother said as she lifted a biscuit from the neat stack on the tray. “The way you carried yourself reminded everyone of your station without my saying a word or lifting a finger.”

Jasper raised his ridiculously delicate teacup. “To the new Marchioness of Ramsbury.” He didn’t have any justification for the pride that surged through his chest. Annabel had done all the work before she ever agreed to their odd bargain. Still, he was proud to have a wife who could hold her own in Society.

As long as she doesn’t want to see me hang.

“It helped that I’ve known Ellen, Viscountess Carmichael, for years. Her family has an estate near Chilworth. Summers at country dances form friendships almost as well as battle.”

So she hadn’t always avoided dancing. What had changed her mind?

Trevor Harrow, Viscount Carmichael, was an honest man with a level head. In a city full of men with secrets, he seemed to have few, and his word in Lords carried more weight than men half his age. His viscountess was known both for her beauty and her good sense. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Annabel had sensible friends.

Except for Spencer. Was she so loyal to the man that she would have married someone she thought was a traitor?

Mother stood. “I’m going to rest before preparing for the Haverstocks’ ball this evening. It will be a crush.”

She left the room, and Jasper counted silently. It was a new game that was more ironic than entertaining.

He reached three. Annabel placed her cup on the tray without the slightest rattle. “I should as well.”

“Stay.”

The sharpness in his voice had her dropping back to her spot on the settee with a frown. “I’m not a hunting dog, your lordship.”

At least that proved she wasn’t a mouse either. He moved to join her, sitting close enough that he could touch her. “Jasper.” He smiled to soften the reminder. “And I apologize for barking at you as though I was the dog.”

The corners of her mouth lifted in the beginnings of a grin. That was an encouraging sign.

“Are you regretting our bargain already?” he asked.

“What?”

He should be concerned about whether she’d been listening at keyholes and misinterpreted something, or whether she’d followed him when he left the house. Those would be the logical questions when living with a spy. Instead, he was entranced by the shape of her eyebrows when she frowned and relieved that she didn’t burst into tears.

“You…” Smile at everyone but me. “We…” Are never alone together. “It…” Isn’t what I had hoped.

Jasper raked his hand through his hair. He hadn’t had this much difficulty speaking to a woman since he’d emerged from puberty. “Are you unhappy?”

She drew a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “No, Jasper, and I apologize for leaving you with that impression. It has been overwhelming—learning how to be a marchioness, and new staff, and being in Society with your mother. I’m so busy making sure I don’t embarrass your mother, not to mention my sisters, that I’m barely able to keep up with the conversations. We’re accustomed to much more informal gatherings, or to never having attention on us, you see.”

“I do.” The rush of words made him smile. She hadn’t spoken to him this much since they’d met, unless she was scolding him. “Frankly, I enjoy the informality of being a family. I suspect Mother is playing the countess because she believes it’s what you expect.”

He relaxed against the back of the settee. His knee touched hers, but she didn’t move away.

“Oh.” She looked at him and blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that. Are you pretending, too?”

Right now, he was acting as though the scent of her perfume wasn’t tempting him to move closer, that he wasn’t doing it for fear of sending her scurrying out of the room. “I am often pretending.” He winked at her. “But never at home, and not with you. I am simply…trying to adjust to having you here.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “What do you expect of me, Jasper?”

It was his turn to fall silent. Since he’d learned to walk, he’d been lectured on what others would expect from him. No one had ever turned the question around.

“I enjoy talking with you, even if you’re scolding me.” He relished the smile she gave him—sharing the teasing moment. “I like seeing you in a room, even if we’re quiet together.” He wanted to see her curled into a chair in his library, her nose in a book. “I want you to be honest with me.” He took her hand and waited until he had her attention.

This young woman was kind, intelligent, and caring. Her deep brown eyes and sweet scent reminded him of rambling through gardens. Her calmness seeped into his bones, and her laughter brought sunshine with it.

Jasper’s mouth went dry. He wanted a proper wife as much as he didn’t want to hang. “I want us to be friends, Annabel.”

“I can do those things—minus the scoldings. Thank you, Jasper.” She squeezed his fingers, just enough to leave an impression.

Just enough to hope.

*

“You look lovely, my lady.”

Annabel forced herself to smile into the mirror. “Thank you, Barnes.”

Her new lady’s maid, who was only a few years older than Annabel herself, put a warm hand on her shoulder. “I believe every new lady is nervous at the first ball after her wedding.” She moved away, her apron rustling against her starched skirts. “Perhaps what the marquess left you will help.”

The lady in the mirror had perfectly styled hair, studded with the pearl pins Annabel’s mother had given her on her wedding day. She wore a deep blue dress with a maroon bodice— Ramsbury family colors. Her skin was lovely, and her cosmetics subtly framed her deep brown eyes.

She was an impostor.

“Oh, these are beautiful.” Barnes returned to the dressing table with an open jewelry box. She lifted a ruby necklace from its velvet bed. “They’re a perfect match for your dress.”

The necklace was an intricate web of diamonds and topaz surrounding teardrop rubies of varying sizes. The earrings were large enough to be noticed, but small enough to be tasteful.

Annabel held her breath, expecting the stones to be cold. They weren’t. They were as warm as Jasper’s hand on hers today in the drawing room.

The floor creaked, drawing Annabel’s attention to the door on the opposite wall, the same as her bed. It went to Jasper’s room. He was there now, with his valet, preparing for their first social engagement as a married couple.

It was expected for them to share a suite of rooms. It was customary for husbands to use those doors to protect their wives’ sensibilities. Everyone expected newlywed brides to be awkward in front of others while they learned their private responsibilities.

If Barnes noticed the key in the lock, she didn’t remark on it.

If Jasper suspected she was a spy, he didn’t act like it.

The ton never remarked on anything, at least in public.

Annabel drew her spine straight and her neck tall. She was a baron’s daughter, trained to mix at events like this. She might dread them, but she’d learned to hide her feelings and emotions years ago. The rubies and diamonds caught the light, adding sparkle to her eyes.

“There are ruby-headed pins here as well—we could replace the pearls.” Barnes reached for her hair.

“Just a few.” Annabel evaded her maid’s fingers. “Mix them sparingly with the pearls.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Barnes worked quickly, smiling as she finished. “You were right. The effect is lovely.”

Annabel was half her old self and half her new. Satisfied with the preparations, she stood and accepted her wrap. “Thank you, Barnes.”

“Have a wonderful time, my lady.”

Annabel walked to the stairs, paused for a deep breath, and began her way down. As she made the first turn, the ground floor came into view. Jasper stood with his hand on the baluster, watching her descend. A smile spread over his face as he offered his hand to guide her the last few steps.

“You look beautiful, Annabel,” he said. “I knew those jewels would be perfect with that dress.”

“How did you know—” She paused. Had he followed her to the dressmaker? Or had he searched the boxes to make sure they held only dresses?

Jasper leaned forward with a guilty grin. “I bribed Barnes with a sticky bun.”

He was a handsome man, her husband. There was no denying his looks or his charm. His kindness and humor had surprised her, however. His family doted on him, and he on them. He’d welcomed her sisters with genuine warmth and generosity.

This afternoon, in this very hall, it had been easy to imagine them becoming a real family.

But they weren’t, and likely would never be. She would expose him to Spencer, or he would catch her in her deception. Their marriage would wither under layers of hatred and distrust.

“Are you certain it’s wise to go?” she asked.

“The longer we wait, the worse the whispers will be.” Jasper tucked her hand into his elbow and led her to the doors and the waiting footmen. “We’ll face this together. Gossip be damned.”

At the bottom of the steps, the groom opened the carriage door. Annabel could not dismiss the feeling that she was going to the gallows rather than a party.

“I believe the Carmichaels will be in attendance this evening,” Jasper said as he sat. “As will Amelia and Richard. Friends will help.”

Is he trying to convince me or himself?

Annabel sat across from him, careful to keep the upholstery from ruining her hair. “It is a shame that Mr. Yarwood had to leave so soon after his arrival.”

She suspected Yarwood’s quick departure, and dour expression, had everything to do with his opinion of her and her marriage. He had watched her like an eagle did a mouse during the house party.

“Kit always has somewhere else to be.” Jasper watched the shadows of London as they passed through the city. “He says it comes from his time in the military, when they were always on the move.”

“He believes our marriage to be unwise,” she said.

He cast her a sideways glance. “I believe your honesty will always set me on my heels. But you are partly right. Kit’s experience in war makes him a fine protector but can sometimes close his mind.”

Sometimes. Not always . “Only partly right?”

Though he chuckled, his smile was sad. “My mother has never been welcoming, likely because Kit is lowborn. He attended Eton and gained his commission with the help of a sponsor.”

That didn’t sound like the countess who had welcomed Annabel as her son’s wife despite their scandalous beginning. However, beginning an argument before a party was not wise. “It is a shame they cannot overcome their reservations.”

“I keep hoping for that.” The carriage slowed to a stop, and he looked out the window. “We are in line. It will be a few minutes.”

They’d been in the carriage long enough for Annabel’s nerves to settle. Now they flared back to life. “We could have walked here.”

“Your skirts would have gotten dirty.” Jasper combed his fingers through his hair and squared his waistcoat, then his coat, and finally his cuffs. “And we wouldn’t have had a chance to talk.”

“Your cravat is crooked.” Her smile widened as he worked to fix it, but only made it worse. “Come here. Let me fix it.”

He joined her on her seat and stretched one arm across the back so she would have access to his clothes. “Cravats are akin to wearing nooses. I can’t imagine anything less comfortable.”

His cravat had been the first thing he removed in his room that evening.

“You should try a corset, my lord.” Annabel unpinned his tie to straighten and refold the fabric. However, to re-pin it, she would have to slide her fingers beneath his shirt.

“Perhaps I will,” he quipped. “I’ll ask Madame Genest for a fitting.” Jasper slid her fingers between his buttons but kept his gaze level with hers. “Would you recommend lace trim?”

“Lace can be itchy, and it would ruin the line of your shirt.” His body warmed the back of her hand, even through her gloves. “If you wanted frippery, you might consider stitching. Flowers, perhaps.” Madame Genest had stitched flowers into the corset she was wearing tonight.

The pin passed over her gloves without snagging the fabric, which was a miracle considering the tremble in her fingers. “Though madame would likely swallow her tongue, and half of Society would blame you for the death of their favorite modiste.”

“I’m willing to risk it if you’ll go to my tailor for a cravat.” He flashed a bone-melting smile. “A red one to match the roses on my corset.”

“What if I prefer pink?”

He tilted his head back and laughed, full and long. “I look better in red.”

The carriage door opened. “Lord and Lady Ramsbury, if you please.”

Jasper climbed down first and brushed the footman aside to hand Annabel down himself. She looked up at him as she took the arm he offered. “You did that on purpose to distract me from where we are.”

“I like it when you forget to be proper.” He lifted her knuckles to his lips and winked before he escorted her into the Haverstocks’ ball.

“The Marquess and Marchioness of Ramsbury,” the doorman announced.

Every head in the room turned to stare. Ladies snapped open their fans to hide their whispers, as though Annabel couldn’t imagine them anyway. Annabel Pearce, with no looks and no dowry, had at least been smart enough to trap a wealthy husband.

A warm hand covered hers.

I don’t need a rich wife. I need a suitable one .

She was more than suitable. And she was smarter than most. She glared into every glittering stare. She was smarter than all of them .

“Shall we go find our hosts, Lady Ramsbury?”

The crowd began to swirl again, and Annabel snorted an unladylike laugh.

“What’s funny?” Jasper’s breath heated her temple and stirred the dainty curls Barnes had expertly twirled around the curling rod.

“I attended a Zoological Society lecture last year.” It had been a final treat to herself before she began looking for a position, while her time was still her own. “The topic was the sea life in the Caribbean, specifically the predatory ones.” She kept her voice low so the couples waiting ahead of them in the receiving line could not overhear. “If sharks stop moving, stop hunting, they die.”

He squeezed her hand. “But I believe he also said they are solitary creatures.”

“Mostly, but some travel in schools. I wonder if they learn useful things like arranging—” She looked up into his eyes, which were much closer to hers than she expected. “You were there?”

His smile widened. “So you either didn’t see me or didn’t consider me to be interested in things past my own nose. I don’t know whether to be amused or insulted.”

“You keep telling me you have no feelings to hurt,” she said, mimicking his breezy tone. “Besides, you didn’t notice me either.”

They stepped forward in the line.

“Men aren’t allowed in the upper galleries with the single ladies. Fear of orgies, you know.”

The couple in front of them turned to give them both disapproving stares. Annabel rapped Jasper’s knuckles with her fan, which only made his laughter worse.

“Married ladies, however, can sit with their husbands,” he said. “It’s a little-known rule, likely because most men attend the lectures to avoid their wives.”

Annabel couldn’t stop giggling, which only drew more attention. “If you don’t behave, we’re going to be eaten alive.”

“Can’t have that just yet.” He cleared his throat and straightened to his full height as they greeted the Earl and Countess of Haverstock and moved into the crowd. Annabel could see nothing but dresses and curls, so she was left to trust Jasper as he searched for friends.

“There’s Carmichael.” His hand was warm at her back and his fingers shaped to her waist to guide her. “This month’s lecture is on the tigers in India. Would you like to attend?”

“Very much, thank you.” She refused to be embarrassed by the eagerness in her voice. He’d offered her something better than any dress or glittering jewelry, and she wouldn’t lie about her excitement.

“I must say, Ramsbury, I expected you to still be on your wedding trip,” Lord Carmichael said when they reached the couple. Their table was far from the dance floor.

“We discussed it but decided to wait until the session had concluded for the summer.”

“And you agreed to postpone Paris for London, Lady Ramsbury?”

“Do not tease her, Trevor,” Lady Carmichael said. “Annabel is far more levelheaded than most of us.”

Though the compliment made her sound as interesting as a table, Annabel smiled her thanks to her friend. “My husband’s work in Parliament is far more important than visiting Mr. Worth, Lord Carmichael.” She sipped her champagne and did her best not to wrinkle her nose before setting it aside. She had never developed a taste for the drink’s sharp, sweet taste.

“Thank you, darling.” Jasper looked over the rim of his glass, his blue eyes warm.

Tingles shot from Annabel’s scalp to her toes, and her breasts pressed against her corset until her nipples rubbed against the fabric. It was an alarming, but not distressing, reaction.

The orchestra took their seats, and the floor cleared. Jasper set his glass on a nearby tray. “Shall we dance, my lady?”

She blinked at his outstretched hand before following his arm to his face. His smile held a challenge.

“The highest-ranking gentleman dances with the hostess to open the ball.” Even as she said it, she placed her hand in his.

“There’s always a duke lying about somewhere at these things, especially this time of year.”

As he spoke, a gentleman in a kilt led the countess to the floor. Annabel craned to get a better look. “Is that the Duke of Argyll?”

“It is,” Jasper whispered, warming her ear as he put a hand to her waist. “He addressed Parliament this morning on the subject of liquor taxes.”

He urged her to the floor when it was their turn in line. Rather than staying near the edges, as men had always done when dancing with her, Jasper led her under the chandelier and took her in his arms for a waltz. “Don’t be nervous. I want everyone to see how proud I am of my new wife.”

It was exactly what he would do to thumb his nose at the persistent gossip regarding their marriage. It didn’t mean that was what he truly thought. Still, warmth surged through her until she relaxed in his strong embrace. “Thank you, Jasper.”