How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy (9 page)

“Certainly, Madame Scold, whatever you say,” he teased.

“When have I ever scolded you, William Endicott?” she asked, retreating behind a façade of exasperation. “As I recall, you always led me around by the nose. Really, I'm quite ashamed of my weak-willed behavior back then.”

“If anyone did the leading, it was your sister,” he said dryly. “And if memory serves, you gave me quite a scolding last night.”

That comment gave her nerves another kind of jolt, one not nearly as pleasant.

“Yes, about that . . .” She threw a quick glance over her shoulder. Michael and Gilbride were catching up to the curricle, but were not yet close enough to eavesdrop.

Will's calm expression as he managed the traces suggested nothing more than a friendly disinterest in the conversation. But she knew him as well as he knew her. If she didn't miss her guess, most of his attention was still on her and not on his cattle.

“I owe you an apology, Will,” she said quietly.

He cocked his head, still looking politely disinterested. “I'm sorry, what did you say?”

She raised her voice a notch. “I behaved rather wretchedly to you in the drawing room last night, and you didn't deserve it.”
Well, not most of it, anyway.

He looked regretful. “You'll have to speak up, Evie. I can't hear you over the noise of the carriage wheels and the horses.”

The beast.
He was going to make things difficult for her.

“I said I'm sorry,” she practically yelled. “Which you heard the first time, you brute.”

He laughed. “I am a brute, and for that
I
apologize. But I couldn't resist because you looked so guilt-ridden.”

“I
am
guilt-ridden, and a gentleman would accept my heartfelt apology and be done with it,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

His glance flicked absently down to her bosom, and Evie couldn't help flushing. Then he returned his attention to the horses. “No apology is necessary, my dear girl. I earned that thundering scold. Not only for my behavior last night but for everything else, too.”

“I'm not sure what you mean,” she said, disconcerted by his switch in demeanor.

He remained silent for a minute or so as he navigated a curve that brought them under a fine stand of canopy trees. But the dappled sunlight and shadow failed to hide the tension in his shoulders, or the way a muscle ticked in his jaw. When he finally answered, it seemed as if he had to pry his lips apart. “That last summer I was home . . . I'm sorry for that, Evie. I've been sorry about it for a long time.”

She resisted the urge to curl her shoulders forward, as if for protection against the memories of that last summer together.

Will had been away for months, enrolled in studies at the Royal Military College. She'd missed him terribly but knew that soldiering would suit him far better than a career in either the Church or the legal profession. Will, naturally, had been thrilled by the opportunity to join the army and please his father. Evie had only asked that he write to her whenever he had the chance.

He had written a few brief notes that communicated how busy and happy he was in his new life. But he'd also addressed her in the most affectionate terms and said he couldn't wait to see her again. Fool that she was, Evie had believed Will returned her feelings with equal ardor.

Will had returned home that summer to visit with his guardians, the Endicotts. He was almost nineteen and Evie was soon to turn seventeen as she prepared for her debut with Eden in the upcoming Season. Quite old enough, she had thought, for them to pledge their love for each other.

The first few weeks had been lovely, with Will seemingly overjoyed to see her. He'd told her about his father's plans to buy him a commission in the Guards, and Evie had listened with pride and happiness. She saw no reason why his military service should be an impediment to their future since many sons of the nobility served in elite army regiments and still went on to marry. With any luck, Will would soon be an officer, one who'd be able to support a wife. Between his income and her dowry they would be able to live a happy, if fairly modest, life. She'd never been put off by a lack of riches, and much preferred life away from the bustle of London and the whirl of the
ton
. Will and Eden were the only people necessary to Evie's happiness, and she'd had them both.

But it had all gone horribly wrong during a ball at the Endicotts' gracious manor house. She and Will had stood up together twice and he'd escorted her into supper, too. His eyes, his words, his touch . . . all had conveyed how much she meant to him. Evie had never been more certain that their happiness together was all but assured.

When Will escorted her out to the terrace for air after a particularly robust set, Evie's heart had thumped with excitement. Not at the notion that he would make any untoward advances, because he was too serious and proper for that. Nor would he think it right for an all-but penniless young man of questionable parentage to make the first advance, or put demands on her. So after careful thought, Evie had decided she had to take the first step, since Will likely never would. She'd thought about nothing else for weeks and it was finally her chance. With one bold act, she would show him how much she loved him.

As they'd leaned against the balustrade, gazing up into the night sky, she'd gathered her courage and gone up on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his mouth. She'd put everything she felt for Will into the shy, heartfelt kiss.

Will had startled, but then his arms had stolen around her and he'd pulled her into a tight embrace. She'd melted into him, reeling under the passion of his surprisingly expert kiss. Unfortunately, the kiss lasted mere seconds before he'd gasped against her lips and broken away.

In the light of the half-full moon, she'd seen the stunned—in a horrified way—expression on his face. For the first time in her life, Evie felt awkward and shamefaced in his presence.

But when she'd asked him what was wrong, he'd simply stammered out an incoherent apology and hauled her back into the house. They'd run into Eden in the hall—she'd come looking for them—and Will had handed Evie over with a shocking lack of ceremony. He'd avoided her for the rest of the night and indeed for the rest of the week, ensuring they were never alone together. She tried more than once to talk to him about the incident on the terrace, but he dodged her until it became painfully obvious that he found her company nothing more than a source of embarrassment.

When he left for London to take up his commission—leaving earlier than planned—Evie had almost been grateful. To be physically near him when he clearly wished to avoid her ripped her heart into ragged shreds. She'd spent the years following that humiliation trying to convince herself that Will's rejection had been the inevitable result of her childish, misguided infatuation.

Staring blindly down the lane, Evie swallowed hard against the memories that congealed like suet in the center of her chest.

“We were both young then, and I was silly.” Evie tried to sound like a sensible woman instead of a heartbroken girl. “I had no right to expect . . . things from you.”

Will's hands tightened on the reins. The horses broke into a canter, and for a moment his attention was fixed on the animals. When he'd settled them into a more leisurely pace, he looked down at her with a narrow, irritated gaze.

“Why are you scowling at me?” she protested. “I just told you it wasn't your fault.”

“Of
course
it was my fault. And you had every reason to expect things from me.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, nearly breathless. “What . . .what things?”

“Courtesy and respect, to begin with,” he said from between gritted teeth. “And affection. I was a complete bounder to treat you in such a cavalier fashion.”

He sounded so disgusted with himself that she had to smile. “You were, rather. It felt horrible.”

“If it's any consolation, I felt horrible about it too. For a very long time.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “I did try to apologize a few years ago, though, if you recall. You weren't very receptive to it.”

She wanted to bury her burning face in her hands. But in some strange way it was a relief to be able to talk about what had happened between them. To be candid as they'd once been with each other.

“I wasn't ready to hear any apologies then,” she admitted. “I was still mortified, and Eden was spitting mad too. I was so afraid she was going to bash you over the head with a vase that I just wanted to get her out of there.”

A fleeting smile touched his lips. “I have a vivid memory of that encounter. There are few things more terrifying than your sister in full rage.”

“I know. It's splendid, isn't it?”

One of Will's eyebrows moved in a skeptical lift, but he didn't contradict her.

“So, what's changed?” he asked a moment later. “Why are you able to hear my apology now?”

Evie stared down at her clasped hands, sensibly gloved in plain tan. She knew the answer to his question. What had changed was meeting Michael. His friendship and admiration had done so much to restore her confidence, and their work at St. Margaret's had helped her to realize she'd wasted too much time grieving over her first, foolish love.

But that felt much too private to explain to Will.

“I grew up, I suppose,” she said vaguely. “And it seemed silly to fret so much about a kiss, especially one that was clearly so, er, distasteful for you.”

Now it did seem silly, but at the time she'd been devastated. Aside from everything else, she must have been very bad at kissing, although she'd certainly enjoyed it. Will, however, had fled as if all the hounds of hell were hot on his trail.

He shot her an incredulous glance. “Evie, it was a
splendid
kiss, which was one of the reasons why I stopped.”

She went stiff as a fencepost as they wheeled through the village of Barrington. Though her gaze took in the verdant green and the quaint Elizabethan buildings, her brain was fixated on trying to understand his shocking words.

“That makes
no
sense,” she managed.

“It makes perfect sense,” he retorted. “Good God, you were barely seventeen and entirely innocent. I had no business taking advantage of you or our friendship.”

“If memory serves, I believe
I
was the one taking advantage of you.”

That surprised a snort of laughter out of him. “I suppose that's true. Still, I had no business responding the way I did.”

“I don't know,” she mused. “I thought it was all rather lovely.”

He met that remark with steadfast silence, concentrating on guiding his horses through the turn onto the long road that climbed the gentle hill to the abbey ruins.

“In any event,” he said once he'd sorted the turn, “I was mortally embarrassed by my shabby behavior. I found it impossible to discuss it with you. After all, you were my dearest friend. It was a shock that I could think of you in . . . well, in
that
way.”

And there it was—the depressing confirmation that Will had never loved her in the way she had loved him.

“I must say, though, that I did think about that kiss many times over the years,” he said with a self-satisfied grin. “I'm exceedingly fond of that memory, Evie.”

Now it was her turn to stare incredulously at him. “Then why did you never say anything to me? Or even write, for God's sake?”

The roguish glint faded from his eyes. “The short answer? I was terrified of hurting you.”

She poked him in the ribs with her elbow. “Too late.”

His mouth twisted into a wry, almost sad smile before he threw a quick glance over his shoulder. “I was a complete idiot, and I owe you a thousand abject apologies. But I'm afraid we must drop this particular topic for now, since we're about to have company.”

Evie had been so riveted by this momentous revision of history that she'd failed to notice the sound of cantering horses. She twisted in her seat and saw Michael and Gilbride approaching the back of the curricle.

“Oh,” she said, disconcerted. “Well, it doesn't matter anymore, I suppose.”

He shook his head, muttering something like
stubborn woman
under his breath. While she cast about in her head for an appropriate change in topic, he took the matter out of her hands.

“As I said, we'll drop this particular discussion. For now.” Then his slight scowl smoothed into an easy, practiced smile. “So, my dear, tell me about this charity of yours. I must admit to being intrigued.”

Will never minded propping up a column in a ballroom, not if there were enough pretty girls to watch on the dance floor. Tonight, however, there was only one girl at the Duchess of Campforth's ball who captured his interest, and that was Evie, making her way through another set with her annoyingly persistent partner, Michael Beaumont.

He couldn't blame Beaumont in the least since Evie was looking amazingly pretty tonight, even though the cut of her dress was modest compared to most other women there. Pale green folds of soft fabric clung to her curves, lovingly outlining her magnificent bosom and lush bottom. Her hair gleamed like a polished guinea, pulled into a simple knot on the top of her head and then allowed to cascade in streams of gold down the back of her neck. Her bow-shaped mouth curved up in an unconsciously sensual smile that had Will imagining things he had no business thinking about. Even her spectacles didn't detract from the beauty that most men were too stupid to see.

That so many were blind to her loveliness was partly Eden's fault, although the twins would be aghast to even voice something they would see as the ultimate disloyalty. But there was no denying that Eden's vivacious personality and teasing wit tended to cast Evie into the shade. The fact that Eden had no qualms about displaying her abundant physical assets in one stunning dress after another made the difference even more startling. Whereas Evie usually hid behind spectacles and modestly cut, almost matronly clothing, her twin flaunted her charms and thoroughly enjoyed the attention she so easily attracted. Most men identified Eden as markedly prettier, even though the twins were truly two peas from one pod.

Will, however, had never shared that opinion, not even when Evie was a shy, gawky girl. Her twin might sparkle and flash but Evie quietly glowed, lit from within by a generous and loving nature. If other men couldn't see past her shy demeanor to her true worth, they were only to be pitied.

Beaumont, however, clearly
did
see past it. He was smitten with Evie, as his possessive manner both on and off the dance floor amply demonstrated. Watching the couple for the last hour or so, Will had grown increasingly irritated by Beaumont's open displays of affection. Every time the man's hands strayed close to Evie's rump, or his arm
casually
brushed the side of her bosom, it was all Will could do not to bound onto the parquet dance floor, spin him around, and lay him flat on his back with a solid uppercut to the jaw.

He sighed, repressing the impulse to bash his head against the marble of the column. His overblown reaction didn't just stem from a desire to protect his old friend. Ever since that outing to the abbey ruins, when Evie's lush form had been plastered against him during that ill-conceived carriage ride, Will had been acutely aware of why he'd walked away from her all those years ago. She posed an incalculable temptation to his self-control, and giving in to that siren call would be a disaster for both of them.

Will knew that Evie still harbored feelings for him. She might
think
she wanted to marry Beaumont, but he knew otherwise. Her emotions were evident in her soft, shimmering gaze when she looked at him and in the slight tremor of her voice whenever they spoke of days gone by. Will had quickly realized that Evie was on the verge of marrying a man she didn't love, and that his appearance on the scene had raised sudden complications. The way she'd been avoiding him for the last several days confirmed that theory.

If only she knew how complicated the situation truly was. While, technically, he was only spying on Beaumont, Evie's relationship with the man and her involvement at St. Margaret's also put her under the glass. And if she ever discovered the truth, Will knew she would never forgive him.

But there was no avoiding it, because that was why both he and Alec were here tonight—to sniff out Beaumont's friends and potential allies. Some among the wealthy and powerful always sought profit from chaos, and might be willing to provide Beaumont with funds to support his cause. That Beaumont was strident in that cause was no longer in doubt, as they'd easily discovered by shadowing him the past week. The young man wrote and published inflammatory pamphlets about Catholic emancipation and attended intellectual salons where the topics of conversation skated close to treason. While Beaumont's passionate outpourings might simply reflect an earnest and rather naïve worldview, he could easily be involved in something far more sinister.

A sardonic voice broke into his unpleasant reverie.

“Good Lord, you look ready to rip out the young pup's throat, and I have a notion it's not because of his politics.”

Will pushed away from the column, scowling at the smirk on Alec's face. “It's about time you showed up. I've been trailing around after Beaumont and his friends for the last hour, trying not to look like a lunatic. The last time I dodged behind a potted palm our hostess looked ready to have me carted off to Bedlam.” He was joking, of course, since his skills at discreet surveillance were as good as they'd ever been—despite the distractions Evie posed.

Alec, resplendent in his regimentals, cast a quick glance around them.

“No one is listening,” Will said dryly. “You know I haven't lost my touch.”

His cousin shrugged. “Can't be too careful, not with the cannonball this bloody assignment is turning out to be.” His gaze fixed on Beaumont and Evie, just coming off the dance floor on the other side of the massive ballroom. “I spent some time with Beaumont last week. While you were capering about with Miss Evelyn, I was practically paying court to the fellow. God only knows what he must think of me.”

“That you're an ardent philanthropist, no doubt. And, by the way, I was hardly
capering
with Evie. Except for that day in the ruins, she's treated me like I'm a leper, bells and all.”

Alec folded his arms across his chest and smiled, conveying the appearance of a man engaged in casual conversation. He liked to give the impression that he was a genial and not very bright giant, but Will knew he had his eye on Beaumont, Evie, and probably twenty other people in the room at the same time. “I noticed that. What did you do to rattle the poor girl?”

“I'm not sure,” Will said with a casual shrug. It was a lie, but Alec didn't need the gory details. “I suppose she hasn't yet forgiven me for abandoning her, as she put it.”

“And yet you two seemed
quite
chummy in the carriage.”

“I know it's difficult, but try not to be an idiot,” Will replied in a tone of false sympathy.

Alec's laughing gray eyes flashed back at him. “Someone is certainly in a foul mood. You know what you need?”

“No, but I'm sure you'll tell me.”

“A visit to a cozy little brothel. It's been much too long since you've had a good shagging.”

“I think not, but feel free to carry on without me.”

His cousin let out a soft hoot. “That's what I thought. You're still keen on the girl, aren't you?”

Will narrowed his eyes in warning. “I suggest we stick to business. We haven't had much chance to speak the last few days, since you've been busy with other things.”

Before answering, Alec took the time to give a pair of pretty girls strolling by a flourishing bow. They both giggled, flirting behind their fans, before gliding away.

“I'm sorry, old son,” Alec finally said in a vague manner. “What were we talking about?”

“Never mind.” Will knew Alec had been dealing with matters relating to his grandfather's estate in Scotland, a topic his cousin was never keen to discuss. “Let's get back to Beaumont. What do you think of him?”

Alec shook his head. “The man's a living saint, as far as I can tell, and he's entirely devoted to his blasted charity. He nattered on about it for hours and certainly didn't seem reluctant to share information. I thought I might have to shoot myself to escape the endless parade of detail.”

“It stands to reason since Beaumont is so devoted to helping the Irish poor. And why not plan sedition at the same time? The charity could be a good cover.”

Alec nodded, frowning slightly. “True, but he struck me as full of honest enthusiasm more than anything else.”

“Did he bring up the issue of conditions in Ireland, or Catholic emancipation?”

“Only in passing. He was more concerned with extracting money from me for the Hibernian Benevolent Association— the charity connected to St. Margaret's Parish. He said they stand in need of new patrons.”

Will once more propped his shoulders against the pillar, giving his friend an evil grin. “And was he successful in his efforts?” When Alec glared at him, he laughed. “You're such a soft touch.”

His cousin was generous to a fault, always emptying his pockets to beggars, crossing boys, downtrodden prostitutes, and anyone else who needed help.

“I thought it would help me get through the front door,” Alec answered defensively. “If I'm a patron I have a damn good reason to visit the place.”

“Well done. I persuaded Evie to show me around St. Margaret's, too. I intend to make arrangements for that visit as soon as I can get her to speak to me.”

Alec's only reply was a distracted grunt. Will followed his cousin's gaze to a shallow window alcove framed with blue velvet drapes, where Evie and Beaumont chatted with Eden and a trio of her ever-present swains.

He flicked an interested glance at Alec. “What do you think of Evie's sister? You spent time with her last week, too.”

“Only because I had to run interference to keep her away from you and Miss Whitney,” Alec said in a disgruntled tone.

“Yes, and I thank you for your help. Eden didn't seem all that keen on your company.”

Alec let out a grudging laugh. “She thinks I'm a complete bore, what with me prosing on about charities and whatnot.”

“Not to mention your loyal son of the Highlands routine. That seemed to put her off too.”

“Pity. She's a bonny lass and that's a fact. But at this point I suspect she'd rather shave her head than hold another conversation with me. My little act apparently worked too well.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “The sacrifices I make for Crown and country.”

“Poor you,” Will said. “But despite your trepidation, I think it best we spend some time visiting with the ladies and Mr. Beaumont. It will afford you the opportunity to find out just how much Eden dislikes you.”

“Won't that be a lark,” Alec replied sardonically.

An unexpected touch on Will's shoulder had him spinning around, instinctively starting to assume a defensive stance. When he saw who stood behind him, he winced.

“Stand down, Wolf, you're not in the Peninsula,” Aden St. George said, trying not to laugh. “The only danger you face in this ballroom is from matchmaking mammas or rich widows on the prowl.”

Will shot a glance at Alec, relieved to see he also regarded their newly arrived companion with a slightly embarrassed demeanor. He obviously hadn't noticed Aden sneaking up on them, either, though Aden was almost as tall and brawny as Alec.

Aden St. George had been one of England's most talented and lethal spies in the long war against the French, and the man chosen to be Dominic Hunter's replacement as Head of Section. He was also their cousin, and a by-blow of the Prince Regent himself.

Will shook Aden's hand. “I suggest you not sneak up on me again, or you might find yourself with an injury in a most unwelcome part of your anatomy.”

Aden laughed. “My wife would have something to say about that. You cross her at your peril, I assure you.”

Alec clapped Aden hard on the back, managing to jolt their big-framed cousin slightly forward. “We heard you'd gotten yourself leg-shackled. To the sister of the Earl of Blake, was it not?”

Aden's grin was so sheepishly happy it made Will blink. His cousin had always been a grim, quiet man who avoided personal relationships. Apparently, the new Mrs. St. George had effected quite a change.

“Yes, Lady Vivien Shaw and I were married last fall. You'll have to stop by our town house in Cadogan Square and make her acquaintance.”

Alec raised his dark eyebrows in pointed mockery. “You mean she lets you go out without an escort? Why the devil would she trust a crafty bugger like you to roam around town on his own?”

“The appropriate question is why would I let
her
roam around on her own,” Aden replied. “She's more likely than me to get into trouble. But Vivien is now in the family way, and not feeling up to an evening in an overheated ballroom.”

After the appropriate congratulations were exchanged, with Alec again pounding Aden on the back, Will cocked an enquiring eyebrow. “We're happy to see you, but why
are
you here tonight? Swanning around a
ton
ballroom is hardly your style.”

“Only duty could force me to endure such a grim task,” Aden replied. “The Duke of York, however, thought this would be a good opportunity for us to meet without drawing undue attention. He's waiting for us in the duchess's study, so we can have a private conversation before he comes upstairs to the ball.”

“Oh, Christ,” Alec muttered, grimacing.

Will agreed with the sentiment, since they had yet garnered little useful information to report. He'd met with Dominic yesterday to communicate their progress and apprise him of their plans to visit St. Margaret's as soon as possible, but Will's father clearly wanted to hear about their progress—or lack thereof—directly.

Aden gave a wordless shrug that perfectly conveyed his sympathy. None of the cousins had particularly comfortable relationships with their sires, and reporting to one of them made it that much trickier.