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L ucinda said not another word until they were safely in the carriage. Even then she had to press her lips firmly together for a minute before she could bring herself to speak. She mustn’t allow Restive to rile her so easily.

“Am I to assume,” she said languidly, “that you want me to go to Lady Tollister’s because there may be more seditious discussions there?”

“No,” he said, “I don’t want you to go there at all. It’s entirely unsuitable for an innocent young lady.”

“Then why did you force Lady Alice to accept his invitation?”

“He didn’t force me, dear,” Lady Alice said, “but we have worked together before. I knew what he wanted me to do. Whether or not you attend is entirely another matter. I’m not sure I agree with Restive, but we shall discuss that later.”

“I see,” Lucinda said, although she didn’t, nor did she appreciate being treated as if she were a child with no ability to make her own decisions.

On the other hand, she knew nothing about espionage, so in all fairness she must assume they knew better.

After a while, she asked, “I don’t know what to think of Mr. Pearce. Does he fall madly in love with every lady he meets?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen,” Lady Alice said. “He appreciates a pretty woman and can be quite flowery in his compliments—he wrote a few charming poems to Miss Collins’s eyelashes and eyes—but I’ve never seen him fall in love at first sight before.”

“You didn’t see that tonight, either,” Restive said.

“Whatever do you mean?” Lady Alice asked.

“He didn’t fall in love with Miss Belair. He pretended to.”

“How can you possibly know that?” Lady Alice demanded.

“Because she’s not the sort of girl men fall instantly in love with.”

“Algernon Restive! What a horrid, unkind thing to say,” Lady Alice said. “I’m ashamed of you. Apologize at once!”

“Why? It’s the truth. Miss Belair is a pretty girl, but she’s not the sort men salivate over right from the start. She’s not a diamond of the first water, nor is she seductive.”

“Perfectly true, thank God,” Lucinda said, “for beauty is a handicap, whereas prettiness is tolerable, as one may be appreciated for more than physical attractiveness—such as one’s intellect.

” Recalling the poem, she couldn’t help but chuckle, although she was still annoyed at Restive.

“As for seductive, it sounds disturbing to me.”

“Often it is,” Restive said, adding pensively to his aunt, “Miss Belair is the sort who grows on a fellow.”

“Is that so.” Lady Alice sounded surprised—no wonder, as it was almost a kind remark.

“Indeed. It was obvious Pearce was putting on an act,” he said.

“Then why was he so insistent on seeing me again?” Lucinda said. “What a waste of an evening. I tried eavesdropping, but it was no use, what with all the chatter, and too many people had reformist notions for me to decide who might really be planning something seditious.”

“Tonight wasn’t a waste,” Restive drawled. “We now know where to look.”

And then it dawned on her. “You mean...you think Mr. Pearce is involved in sedition? But he seemed so harmless. Foolish, even. Not the plotting sort.”

“He also seemed anxious—far more so than usual. He greeted your arrival with relief. His first comment was ’Such luck!

’ Not only that, he feels compelled to finish the ode quickly.

It cannot wait till next week, or else..

.what? You won’t love him? I hardly think a poem will make any difference at all. ”

“I’ve never seen him almost harried like he was tonight,” Lady Alice admitted, “and although one tended to set it down to the shock of falling in love, perhaps it wasn’t that at all.”

“Then what was it?” Lucinda asked. “Why was meeting me lucky?” She paused.

“Oh. Oh! Last week he invited Miss Collins to accompany him to Lady Tollister’s, and she refused because it would be too improper.

What luck indeed that I’m pretty enough to make falling in love with me credible.

” If not to you , she thought grumpily, which was ridiculous of her.

Restive was the last man she wanted or would ever want.

“Your outrageousness must have encouraged him to believe that you wouldn’t have the same objection,” Restive mused. “I wonder what he wants of you? Apart from the obvious, but so would any other man, and I don’t think seduction is what drives him at the moment.”

“Whatever it is, he has a deadline,” Lucinda said, as it sank in. “Beltane Eve.”

“Indeed.”

The carriage turned into the street where the Hales lived. “In that case, I must go to Lady Tollister’s tomorrow.”

“No,” he said, “you must not.”

“In the service of the Crown, I must do whatever it takes,” she said. Was he smirking again? It was too dark in the carriage to tell. “Up to a point.”

“Precisely,” he said, as the carriage drew to a halt before Dorothea’s door. “It is my duty to make sure you never approach that very point, with him or any other gentleman who happens to be there—and the best way to accomplish that is for you to stay away.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Alice and Lucinda said in unison. Before he had a chance to respond, Lucinda bade them good night and hurried into the house.

~ * ~

D amn it all, thought Restive. His tongue didn’t usually run away with him. Something about Lucy Belair put him on edge.

“How astonishing,” Lady Alice said as the carriage moved forward again. “You broke one of your cardinal rules.”

“I did?” he asked, feigning innocence. Curse it, what had got into him? He tossed his hat onto the seat and ran his hands through his hair.

“You actually told a girl that she’s pretty,” she said. “It’s one of your rules never to do so. You explained that to me one evening some time ago, when you were blue-devilled and a little foxed.”

“How uncouth of me. Belatedly, I beg your pardon.”

“You begged my pardon then, too. As I recall, you had been tricked into compromising a young lady, Miss Bury, and had broken all the rules by refusing to marry her.”

“Of course I refused. I hadn’t even touched her. The whole point of so-called compromising is that the girl might be with child—which she wasn’t—but if she had been, it was nothing to do with me.”

“I don’t approve of such tricks,” Lady Alice said, “but life was extremely unpleasant for Miss Bury for quite some time—”

“Served her right. It would have been far more unpleasant for her if she’d been leg-shackled to me.”

“—and I believe you felt rather badly about it all the same. Luckily, I was able to help her, and she is happily married now.”

“Since then, I have assumed the persona of a cynical debaucher—without debauching anyone, let me assure you—yet ladies still pursue me, and why? I’m nothing special.

” Restive shrugged. “Cecil Hale says it’s useful even if I didn’t plan it that way.

No one imagines a heartless libertine to also be a government agent. ”

“I wonder how Miss Belair feels about you?”

Like I’m a brother to her , he thought irritably. “She was right about beauty being a curse. I can’t help being what is considered handsome. I do my best to counter it with wickedness, but that seems to enhance the attractiveness. How idiotic can young women be?”

Lady Alice laughed. “The element of danger can be fascinating to a lady. Imagine if they knew you were involved in catching spies!” She paused. “I understand your unwillingness to have her come with me to Lady Tollister’s, but what if her presence is key?”

“And what if it puts her in danger?” He growled. “Hades, she did well. Brilliantly, in fact. She had everyone eating out of her hand.”

“It wasn’t all an act,” Lady Alice said. “I’m sure she enjoyed the freedom to say whatever she pleased.”

Yes, and it was refreshing—even delightful—to hear the thoughts of a young lady unhindered by propriety.

She was so...genuine. “Can we prevent her from doing the same at Lady Tollister’s?

I doubt it.” He ran his hands through his hair again.

“But we have to follow the scent where it leads, and unfortunately, Miss Belair is the hare.”

“We’ll both keep an eye on her. She’s a plucky girl, and whatever his purpose, I can’t imagine Mr. Pearce doing her any real harm. You’re far more dangerous, although luckily your supposed wickedness doesn’t affect her as it does other ladies.”

Right. Thank God they were about to pull up at Lady Alice’s house, for he wasn’t in the mood to be teased. “I’ll talk to Davis tonight and have him find out if something’s driving Pearce to dangerous folly.”

Stokes, Restive’s butler, took his hat and gloves. “Your lordship’s cousin is in the library.”

That was convenient. Looking for Davis was a nuisance, as he had no fixed abode. “Has he been here long?” Restive asked.

“A little more than an hour.” Stokes sniffed. “Instead of ringing for assistance, he laid the fire there himself. I had a cold collation sent up to him, and his bedchamber is ready as always.”

“Thank you,” Restive said. Stokes couldn’t help disapproving of Davis, whose respectability was questionable.

He might or might not be Restive’s distant cousin on the distaff side; Restive neither knew nor cared.

He liked Davis, who was an interesting lad—a talented actor, knowledgeable, energetic, and ruthless if need be. He seemed to enjoy being a spy.

Restive had become involved in espionage reluctantly, but he had one useful talent—that of hearing and recalling two or three conversations at once.

He did a reasonably good job of noting not only the words, but the emotions behind them, and then assessing the motives those words and emotions revealed.

He hadn’t come up with much tonight. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Haraldson involved herself in something foolish, just to get back at her husband, poor chap.

He’d also caught Mrs. Spence’s lovelorn glance at Fortin.

Her tendre was nothing new and not reciprocated, but would Fortin use her to serve his own ends, whatever they were?