How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy (16 page)

BOOK: How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy
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“Is your primary strategy to find work for the people you sponsor in the homes of the aristocracy?”
She nodded. “And in any decent household with servants. For the women, certainly, since those are the best jobs for them. But we try to place everyone who comes to us in a position that will ultimately lead to them acquiring a skill or profession. If not as a servant then in some useful trade, or working in a shop or one of the shipping companies. There are a fair number of shopkeepers and businessmen of Irish descent in London who assist us in that regard.”
Will was more than impressed with all Evie had accomplished. With part of his mind, he listened intently for anything that might be remotely suspicious or indicate that Beaumont was involved in conspiratorial activities. Nothing he'd seen or heard today provided any evidence, although it was clear that St. Margaret's warranted further investigation. Terence O'Shay and his open resentment indicated that such was the case, since it was impossible to imagine he would be the only one of the church's charity cases to harbor antipathy toward the English.
But another part of him had to acknowledge that damned growing fascination with the new Evie. She'd thrown her heart and energy into her charity work, coming to life with a glow that lit up her beautiful eyes and brought vibrant color to her cheeks. Will remembered that look from their youth, though in those days it had been for
him
that she glowed.
He was petty enough to admit to some satisfaction that he hadn't seen her sparkle like that around Beaumont, except perhaps when they talked about their work. Still, it was Beaumont who would eventually be the lucky recipient of her full affections, not him, and that stuck in his craw like a piece of rancid mutton.
He kept silent, digesting everything he'd seen and heard, until Evie gave him a verbal nudge.
“Is there anything else you'd like to know?” she asked, a faint but amused challenge in her voice. “Or do we pass muster?”
He forced a smile. “I'm very impressed, and I'm sure Alec will be too. You're doing wonderful work here, Evie. Even a frippery fellow like me can see it.”
She scoffed. “Nonsense. There's nothing frippery about you, and you know it.”
“Perhaps I'll surprise you one of these days.”
She tilted her head, giving him a puzzled smile. For a moment, he thought she was going to pursue the lead he'd just tossed her, but then she gave a small shake of the head. “If there's nothing else,” she said, rising to her feet.
“Just one more question,” he said, standing. “Are there many hard cases like Terence O'Shay? I don't much like the idea of you dealing with a man like that, to tell you the truth.”
“Now you sound like my mother,” she said dryly.
Will clutched his chest. “Cut to the quick in one fell swoop.”
She laughed, but sobered enough to answer. “Terence is a very difficult case, I'm afraid. He holds on to a great deal of anger against the English, despite our concerted efforts to convince him we're not all monsters.” She sighed. “There are a few others like him, I must admit, but Terence is about the worst.”
Anxiety rustled through him. “You're never alone with those men, are you?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Goodness, no. Michael generally deals with the men, or Father O'Kelley. I work primarily with the women and the children.” She smiled. “I enjoy that very much.”
“I'm glad to hear it. Now, I think I've made you work quite hard enough, and I'm also honest enough to admit that I'm beginning to fear for my horses. Who knows what those two scamps of yours have gotten up to?”
Evie laughed. “I'm sure they're fine, but I agree that I've bored you enough for one day.” Her lush mouth curved into a surprisingly flirtatious smile that set the pulses hammering in his veins. “Now, Captain Endicott, I do believe you promised me an ice, did you not?”
“I did, madam, and I intend to keep that promise.”
Will flicked another glance into Beaumont's office, noting the placement of the window and the desk before he followed Evie out of the room.
He'd be back soon.
Chapter Thirteen
Evie smiled at her sister as she accepted a cup of tea, although she suspected her smile looked more like an anxious grimace. Ever since Will arrived for her mother's dinner party this evening, looking outrageously handsome in his regimentals, she'd been struggling to repress the shivers that danced along her nerves and weakened her knees. And when she thought she'd finally managed to get them under control, she'd found herself sitting next to Will at the table. Then the shivers had turned into flushes that burned up her neck to her cheeks. If she didn't know better, she'd think she was coming down with the ague.
“Wolf's making you nervous, isn't he?” Eden murmured from her spot next to Evie on the damask chaise tucked into a corner alcove. They'd retreated there as soon as their mother led the women into the formal drawing room after dinner, hoping to avoid conversation with anyone. Evie needed to be left in peace so she could reorder her thoughts before Will, Michael, and the other men joined them for tea.
She'd already spent most of dinner stammering like a fool every time Michael glowered at her from the other end of the highly polished table. Mamma had deliberately placed her next to Will, as far from Michael as she could. It wasn't Evie's fault, and she had every intention of telling Michael that as soon as possible. It did him no good to glare at her when she merely talked to her dinner partner, as basic manners dictated. Michael obviously thought she was flirting with Will though she was doing nothing of the sort. She wouldn't dream of it.
Except that she
had
dreamed of it, along with all sorts of other unnerving things since their outing to St. Margaret's a few days ago.
“Is it that obvious?” she asked in a resigned voice.
Eden pointedly looked at Evie's right knee. Evie glanced down and winced to see it jiggling up and down like mad, rather like a puppet on a string. She clamped her knees together to stop.
“Don't let Mamma see that,” Eden said. “She'll make you wrap a scarf around your legs.”
That thought made Evie's dinner—what little she'd managed to force down—churn in her stomach. As a child, she'd had a terrible habit of jiggling her leg when nervous. When she hadn't been able to lecture Evie out of it, Mamma had finally resorted to tying a woollen scarf around her knees, under her dress. Since Mamma had embarked on this corrective course in the middle of August, it had proven beastly hot and dreadfully unpleasant. Evie had shed more than a few tears over it but she had to admit it worked. Within two weeks the habit was broken, rarely to return.
Only when Evie was truly rattled.
“Perhaps I can persuade her to use a silk scarf this time,” she said in a half-hearted jest.
“I'm joking, darling,” Eden said. “Mamma isn't going to do anything so horrible, but she
will
lecture, which is never fun.”
Eden cast a swift glance around to make sure no one was listening. Fortunately, the other ladies—eight in all—had clustered around Mamma at the other end of the room. It was a small party tonight, mostly family friends who knew each other well. They happily chattered away, accepting cups of tea and drifting to seats in the luxuriously appointed room freshly hung with wallpaper in a Bloomsbury Square pattern. Mamma had been most eager to show off her redesign of the room, thankfully leaving the twins to fend for themselves until the men joined them.
“You know,” Eden said in a conspiratorial voice, “if you want to stay out of trouble, just spend the rest of the night talking to Wolf. For some reason, Mamma has taken a real shine to him since he's returned home.”
“That's got nothing to do with Will and everything to do with Michael. She's no doubt hoping I'll transfer my affections.” Evie scoffed. “As if I'd be so disloyal to poor Michael.”
Eden's eyebrows went up in a comical tilt. “Far be it from me to criticize, but you've been doing a rather good job of ignoring
poor Michael
so far.”
Evie couldn't help starching up. “I haven't been ignoring him. Good Lord, Mamma hasn't let me near Michael all evening. Before dinner, she had Lady Montrose monopolize him, and then she placed him at the other end of the table and Will right next to me. I
had
to speak with my dinner partner, of course, particularly since he's an old friend.”
“But you didn't have to moon at him, now did you?”
Evie gaped at her sister, scandalized. “I was doing no such thing! Was I?”
“Well, yes, you were, if you want me to be honest about it. Not that
I
blame you,” Eden said. “Wolf is frightfully good-looking and has a smashing set of shoulders.”
“Not quite as smashing as Captain Gilbride's, as you have apparently noticed,” Evie responded in a tart voice.
Her twin batted that comment away with the flick of her wrist. “I'd have to be blind not to notice that, but it's rather like admiring a prime piece of horseflesh. I enjoy looking, but I'm not necessarily inclined to ride him.”
“I cannot believe you just said that.” Evie was torn between horror and laughter. “If Mamma heard you say something so risqué, she'd lock you in your room for a week.”
“I'd never say it to her, now would I? But back to Wolf—”
Evie held up a restraining hand. “I don't want to discuss him. He's simply an old friend, and that's the end of it.”
“You are such a pitiful liar, darling. Ever since your little outing with him the other day, you've been fluttering around the house like a schoolgirl with a crush on a handsome officer. It's like something out of a bad novel. You'd better watch yourself, Evie, or you'll find yourself in a spot of trouble.”
“You make having an ice at Gunter's sound like a lewd encounter in the shrubberies at Vauxhall Gardens, when of course it was nothing of the sort. The primary purpose of the outing was not enjoyment, as you well know. Will wanted to see St. Margaret's, and that's where we spent most of our time.”
The corner of Eden's mouth turned down in a skeptical twist. “Ah, yes. Wolf was acting as an agent for Captain Gilbride, who has suddenly developed a great interest in the deserving poor. I'm telling you, Evie, I don't trust that oversized Scotsman. He seems the least likely philanthropist I can imagine, and I don't believe for a minute that he gives a hoot about St. Margaret's or the unfortunates you help.”
Evie shook her head. “That's hardly fair. We know little about Captain Gilbride's charitable leanings, and there's no reason not to take him at his words. Goodness, why would he spend so much time with Michael if he didn't truly want to help?”
“I can think of one good reason.”
“And that is?”
“He's diverting Michael's attention away from you in order to give Wolf a clear opening.”
Evie stared at her sister. Although her mind instantly rejected that conclusion, her ill-mannered heart apparently wanted to mull it over. There could be no other explanation for why it started to pound like a drum.
She had to swallow a few times before she could answer. “That's ridiculous. Will has no interest in me other than as a friend.”
Eden adopted an expression of pity. “Keep on telling yourself that, if it helps.”
Evie, in fact, had every intention of continuing to tell herself just that, even though she'd spent the last few days grappling with the notion that Will did appear to be, well, almost courting her. Though apparently genuinely interested in her work, his manner at Gunter's and in the carriage afterward had seemed exactly what her sister was suggesting—flirtatious. Will had never flirted with her before, not even when they were younger. He wasn't the sort of person to engage in that sort of thing. Not with her, and not with any other girl, as far as she could remember.
But that was a long time ago when he was little more than a boy. Now, as Evie was painfully aware, he was a man.
She'd started to halfheartedly argue with her sister when the door to the drawing room opened and the men followed Papa into the room. The women revived like flowers that had just received a refreshing mist of water, and some of the younger ones did everything they could to attract Will's and Gilbride's attentions. Evie certainly couldn't blame them, because they were by far the handsomest men in the room.
Probably the handsomest men in London. Especially Will, and how unfair was that?
“Don't look now,” Eden murmured, “but here comes Michael. Oh, and how surprising, Gilbride is in hot pursuit.”
Evie fixed a smile on her face as Michael and Captain Gilbride joined them. It was not an easy task when one was clenching one's teeth.
“Evelyn, is this seat taken?” Michael's tone suggested he wasn't quite sure of his welcome. He nodded at the empty cushion next to her on the chaise.
“I was saving it for you,” she exclaimed, patting the seat. A lie, but surely only a little white one. “Please join us. I've barely been able to exchange two words with you all evening.”
He pulled the tails of his evening coat aside and sat down. “You've been much engaged,” he said with a casual and rather false laugh. “I did not want to intrude.”
He spoiled the easy affect he was obviously hoping to convey by shooting a glare across the room at Will, currently engaged in conversation with Evie's mother.
She repressed a sigh. Whatever Will was up to, it did seem to be making Michael jealous. Turning her back on her sister, who was already verbally sparring with Gilbride, Evie set about soothing her beau's ruffled nerves.
A brief discussion of their plans to expand the charity-school classes to include adults restored Michael to his usual gentle humor. Gilbride pulled up a chair to join the discussion, asking one or two decidedly intelligent questions that had the effect of launching Michael into an enthusiastic explanation of plans to extend the reach of the Hibernian Benevolent Association over the next several months. Evie had to give the captain credit because he gave not the slightest indication that his attention was anything less than genuine.
While the two men engaged in a passionate debate about the best way to “squeeze money from the nobs,” as Gilbride put it, Evie turned to her sister, unable to keep from crowing a little bit.
“I told you the captain was sincere in his interest,” she whispered.
When her twin simply inspected the captain with a suspicious gaze, Evie rolled her eyes. It was clear there was no pleasing Eden when it came to Gilbride. Eden normally got along well with almost everyone, but for some reason Evie couldn't fathom, such was not the case with the charming Scot. And her dislike seemed to be growing rather than diminishing over time.
Her twin's gaze shifted from the two men, and Eden suddenly went poker-stiff. “Oh, blast. Mamma's got Will between her claws. She's on her way over, and she doesn't look very happy, either.”
“Oh, confound it,” Evie blurted when she saw her mother marching toward them, practically dragging Will in her wake. Mamma's trenchant gaze was, unfortunately, directed at Michael.
“I'm sorry, my dear, did you say something?” Michael asked, looking rather startled as he turned from his discussion with Gilbride.
She gave him a weak smile. “I simply said Mamma was approaching.”
“Oh, was that it?” Gilbride said with a roguish twinkle. “I must get my hearing checked, because I could have sworn you said something rather different.”
“I wish you would go get it checked right now and leave the rest of us alone,” Eden muttered.
Evie cast her sister a scandalized glance but then turned her attention to her mother.
And to Will, who bore a long-suffering expression on his face. Clearly, Mamma had been bending his ear about something.
“Goodness! Why are all the young people congregating here in the corner?” Mamma asked with a mien so fierce she looked like a bird of prey. The effect was enhanced by her dark hair with its dramatic streaks of white at the temples. “My dears, this is hardly polite to the rest of our guests, is it?”
Her hawklike gaze fell upon her daughters. “You mustn't keep Captain Gilbride and Mr. Beaumont all to yourselves, girls. And you, Evelyn, have quite abandoned William. Is that any way to treat an old friend?” She cast a treacly smile at Will, who looked distinctly nonplussed.
And no wonder, since her mother's reformation when it came to Will constituted a stunning reversal.
Michael and Gilbride had risen to their feet at Mamma's approach. The captain spread his arms wide, giving his hostess a wry and enormously appealing smile. When Eden sucked in a startled breath, Evie darted a glance her way.
Her twin had gone rather pale, as if she'd just received a nasty surprise. Evie made a mental note to ask her about it when the party was over.
“Ah, Lady Reese, you must put the blame on me,” Gilbride said in a voice of rueful apology. “I've been having a wee chat with Mr. Beaumont and the ladies, monopolizing their attention. You must allow me to make amends. Simply command me, and I am yours.”
Mamma was not entirely immune to the captain's charms. She slapped him lightly on the arm with her fan and let out a surprisingly youthful laugh. “Save your flirtatious ways for the younger generation, my dear captain. Your wiles will not work on me. In any event, it is not up to you to entertain the other guests. My daughters should be exerting themselves in that regard instead of tucking themselves away in a corner.”
Or, daughter, as the case may be,
Evie thought. Predictably, her mother's gaze jumped to her, signaling that she was the target of her ire, not Eden. She braced herself for another lecture about neglecting her
old friend
Will.

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