Regency Spymasters 01 - Spy Fall (7 page)

He couldn’t discount the most obvious conclusion—Mari Lamarre wasn’t just an aeronaut in search of a benefactor. She was, in all likelihood, a French spy. If that were true, what did she hope to find? Perhaps she was after crown secrets. Aldridge had held some of the highest positions in government. As a member of the Lords, he remained privy to the nation’s greatest secrets. And, although England and France were officially at peace thanks to the treaty that Aldridge himself had helped negotiate a few months ago, tensions between the two countries remained high.

He wondered if Mari possessed specific intelligence that Aldridge kept something of importance here at Langtry, something the French coveted. Langtry’s coastal location made the situation more dire. Once she found what she sought, Mari could immediately set sail for France with it, not only putting England at risk, but also destroying his father’s reputation. Her bloody frog cohorts could be floating offshore even now, waiting for a signal.

Chills shivered down his spine. Until this evening, figuring out her game had been a harmless amusement, but this was no lark. The parachutist was up to something that could have serious repercussions for the country, as well as for Aldridge. He had to stop her. He had to protect his father at all costs.

It was time to call for reinforcements.

Marcel surprised Mari the following day by making an unexpected appearance in the main house.

“Our friend has sent word,” he said with quiet urgency when Mari greeted him in the front hall. Outside, a roll of thunder rippled through the skies, threatening an afternoon storm. “He wants a meeting.”

She pulled him into a small feminine sitting room and closed the door. “Now? It is not possible.” Outside, the skies erupted. Rain splattered against the window. “How can he want me to come to Town now?”

“Not London. He travels here in a sennight.”

Alarm filtered through her. “He comes here? To Langtry?”

“
Non.
To the village. You are to meet him at the tavern Monday next.”

She released a breath. “When exactly?”

“He will send word. And he wants you to go alone.”

“Very well.” She didn’t like it. If their friend planned to make a trip to Dorset for the purpose of an emergency meeting, something must be wrong. “Anything new on who Aldridge’s go-between could be?”

Marcel shook his head. “Nothing. Perhaps
notre ami
brings news of it.”

“Perhaps.” But she didn’t think it likely.

“Did you learn anything of interest yesterday?”

She thought back to her conversation with Rosie Chalcroft. “The sister, Elinor Dunsmore—Elinor Laurent—had a lady’s maid who attended her in Paris. We must find her.”

“Is the wench important?”

“I am not certain, but it is a possibility we must explore.”

He shrugged. “As you like.”

Together they walked to the front door. She watched him run across the grass to the barn in the pelting rain. Lightning cracked against the sky, and she shivered against the unsettled feeling engulfing her, a sense that something wasn’t quite right.

Perhaps another chat with Mrs. Godfrey would prove helpful. She headed for the kitchen to ask for a cup of tea. Greater knowledge of Langtry and its residents might eventually allow her to piece seemingly unrelated bits of information together into something comprehensible.

“There you are, Miss Lamarre.” Aldridge appeared in the doorway of his study as she passed. “May I tempt you with a game of chess?”

Mari glanced beyond him to the rain battering the windows. “I suppose this weather provides me with an excuse to escape work.”

“Indeed.” Stepping aside, he allowed her to pass and they settled at the chess table. “I’ll ring for tea.”

Given the chill of the day and the gloomy weather beyond the windowpane, it seemed like an excellent idea. They were silent while setting up the ornately carved ivory pieces on the board.

“You’ve been quite busy since Tristan’s departure,” he said.

“There is much work to be done before the exhibition.” As far as Aldridge knew, for the past three days since the viscount had left Langtry, she’d been readying her parachute for a test jump. In the evenings, though, once the household was abed, she’d undertaken an extensive search of the entire house, except for the marquess’s private chambers. Yet she remained determined to breach his enclave, more convinced than ever that the document she sought could be found there, if it existed at all.

“Will you take the first move?” she asked.

While he contemplated the board, she couldn’t help admiring his gray-streaked dark hair and sharp profile, which revealed no softening of the chin. It was easy to see what an attractive man he must have been in his youth, one who could have had his way with half the ladies of the ton. Yet, in that, as in everything, Aldridge maintained the highest reputation. All accounts held that he’d been faithful to Cosmo’s mother during their marriage and exceedingly discreet about his affairs since her death.

On paper, and indeed, from everything she’d seen of him herself, Aldridge gave the appearance of intelligence, decency, and honor. Yet her information suggested that the marquess was a dangerous man, particularly to her family.

“Your move,” he said.

“Your chess set is most impressive.”

“It is French. I ordered it before the revolution.”

She moved her knight. “That explains why you still retain a king and queen.”

Aldridge smiled, a wry curve so like his son’s. “Indeed. As I understand it, all of the French chess sets are kingless since the revolution.”

“We are very serious about this point,” she said with mock gravity. “Our government made a gift of exquisite ivory Dieppe chess pieces to the American Thomas Jefferson. However, the kings were missing because we were loath to offend a man who’d worked so diligently to rid the colonies of royalty.”

“Your two countries appear determined to stand against us.”

“Discussing politics, are you?” Cosmo strode into the room, bringing a restless energy with him. “I vow you are full of surprises, Miss Lamarre.”

“Actually, we are discussing chess,” she said, irritated by the excitement that arrowed through her at the sight of him. By her own design, she’d seen Cosmo briefly, only in passing, since the night he’d been drunk. He dropped his oversized frame into a comfortable chair by the fire. “What a relief. I thought you were attempting to squeeze government secrets out of Aldridge.” The ironic words held an uncharacteristically sharp edge.

“Stuff and nonsense.” Aldridge kept his eyes on the board. “As you know, Miss Lamarre and I share an interest in chess.”

Cosmo crossed one expansive thigh over the other, his dark gaze intent on her. “I’m curious, Miss Lamarre. What are your other interests? We know so little about you.”

Awareness prickled at the back of her neck. “I am an aeronaut,” she said with deliberate blandness. “That occupies all of my time.”

“All? Surely there are other pursuits to fill the hours when you are not tempting fate.”

She didn’t quite know what to make of this curious mood of his. “I read occasionally, but, with the exception of chess, I do not care for playing games.”

“Hm. You strike me as someone who enjoys games.”

“I don’t have a great deal of time for leisurely pursuits because I must work to help support my mother and sisters in France,” she said. “That concept is no doubt a difficult one for you to grasp.”

“Not at all. I am not completely ignorant of the working class. We do have servants, after all.” He tilted that head of luxurious dark waves. “And the serving wenches in the village obviously work to earn some coin.”

“Yes, forgive me,” she said tartly. “I had not properly considered your involvement with the lower orders.”

“Stop distracting her, Cosmo,” Aldridge said with some irritation. “Your move, Miss Lamarre.”

“A thousand pardons,” Cosmo said. “Far be it from me to divert Miss Lamarre from her pursuits.”

A sudden rustle of activity was audible in the hallway; the front door pulled open and shut, followed by the sounds of men talking. One voice she easily recognized as the butler, but she couldn’t immediately place the other.

Exuding supreme satisfaction, Cosmo came to his feet. “There is our guest now.”

“Do bring him in to take tea with us.” Aldridge turned to Mari. “An old friend of Cosmo’s is visiting for a day or two.”

“Why don’t you and Miss Lamarre finish your game?” Cosmo’s eyes glittered. “Our guest would no doubt like to rest from his long journey. We can all convene at supper.” He sauntered out, all large, loose-limbed confidence. The click of his heels faded away as the muffled sounds of his greeting his friend carried into the study.

Aldridge turned his attention back to the board. “Perhaps now we can finish our game.”

“Yes,” Mari said, privately cursing Cosmo for carrying her ability to concentrate out the door with him, right along with that mountain of cocky arrogance.

“Miss Lamarre,” Cosmo intoned, watching her intently, “allow me to present Mr. Will Naismith.”

A momentary flicker of suspicion crossed the smooth angles of Mari’s face. She wiped it away in an instant, leaving a cool courteous expression. “
Enchantée
, Monsieur Naismith.”

She’d come upon them fencing in the gallery, where the long corridor provided ample space for vigorous exercise when poor weather prohibited outdoor pursuits. Will had suggested the bout and Cosmo had welcomed the opportunity to burn off the excess energy that had kept him on edge these past few days. He hated himself for still being drawn to Mari, for grabbing every opportunity to bask in her company, even after he’d caught her interloping in Aldridge’s study. Every indication pointed to her being his enemy, and a very dangerous one at that.

Will bowed, breathless, red slashing across his pale, freckled complexion as a result of his exertions. “Miss Lamarre, Dunsmore has told me much about you.”

She inclined her head. “Indeed?”

“I must confess, I have never met an aeronaut.” He ran a hand back over his head, smoothing damp, copper-colored locks. “Certainly never one of the female species.”

“Finished playing your game with Aldridge, Miss Lamarre?” Cosmo asked.

Her mercurial eyes took on the color of whiskey. “The marquess was fatigued and decided to retire until the evening meal.”

“You wearing a man out?” Cosmo said with a lightness he didn’t feel. “Imagine that.”

She ignored the provocation. Brushing away a loose tendril of dark hair, she said, “Monsieur Naismith, Dunsmore says you’re down from London. I trust you had a pleasant journey.”

“Well enough, thank you. I’m afraid we got caught in the elements for the last leg of our travels.”

“Will here works for the Home Office,” Cosmo said, watching for her reaction.

“Is that so?” Her facial expression didn’t change, not even a flicker. “It must be very interesting work.”

“At times,” Will said politely.

“I would guess you run into all sorts of interesting characters,” Cosmo said.

“Some yes; others are quite boring, I’m afraid.” Will offered a slight smile. “Such is the life of a bureaucrat.”

“Do excuse me,” Mari said. “I will leave the two of you to take your exercise.”

She turned and strode away, her gait sure and confident, her posture erect, the skirt of her simple white day gown smoothing over slim hips and flapping at her ankles.

“She’s a diamond of the first water,” Will said once she’d moved out of earshot.

Jealousy, dark and sudden, seared his gut at Will’s appreciation of Mari’s appeal. “I suppose so.”

Will’s pale hazel eyes fixed on him. “Have you docked her yet?”

Cosmo bristled. “Considering I suspect she’s a French spy out to compromise England and my father, prigging her should be the last thing on my mind.”

“She looks like she’d be fire in bed.” Will put his foil down and reached for his spectacles. “Surely, you’ve been tempted.”

“I’m always tempted, as you well know.” Discomfort surged in him at the idea of discussing Mari in sexual terms with anyone, as though she were a common wench. In the same breath, he cursed himself for having any tender feelings toward her at all. She was, in all likelihood, a spy, and only a fool would forget it. “What do you think of her?”

Will emitted a short laugh. “I can’t determine if someone is a spy just by looking at them. If I could, we’d all have to give the game up, wouldn’t we?”

Will was a mid-level clerk who pushed papers around for most of the day. Yet, despite his friend’s unassuming appearance—a slender form and modest height—Cosmo never underestimated Will, on account of his sharp mind. He had little doubt the man would rise rapidly through the ranks. “I realize you might not be in the thick of the spy business,” he said, “but I hoped you would, at least, know who to take this to.”

“I might.” Will drew on his spectacles, carefully wrapping the ends around the curve of each ear. “What do you know about her?”

Cosmo recounted what he’d learned from the moment Mari landed at Langtry up through her recent middle-of-the-night forays to search the house.

Will’s eyes widened. “You’ve watched her search several rooms and she hasn’t detected your presence?”

“This house is full of secret passageways that even an accomplished agent would have difficulty discovering.”

Will crossed his arms, the look in his eyes lost behind the glare off the lenses of his spectacles. “Do you believe your father is keeping information of importance here?”

“Of course not. That is why I am allowing her to search to her heart’s content. I’m convinced there is nothing to find. You know the old man. He is honest, honorable, and conscientious to a fault.”

“Right.” Will straightened up. “I think it best if I leave in the morning. I’ll ride straight through. Once I arrive in the capital, I shall immediately relay what we’ve discussed to my superiors.”

Cosmo’s small measure of relief mingled with anxiety. What would become of Mari if she were arrested in England and branded a French spy? His chest ached at the thought. “Will they know if she is working for Boney?”

“I’ve no idea.” Will pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “I’m not exactly privy to the inner workings of England’s spy network.”

Cosmo contemplated his friend for a moment. “If she is an agent, this discovery could elevate your position within the Home Office.”

Will’s pale eyes shone with anticipation. “Identifying and stopping a French spy would not adversely affect my career.”

Tensioned tightened across the back of Cosmo’s shoulders. “What will happen to the girl?”

“Mademoiselle Lamarre?” The corners of his mouth quirked upward. “I shouldn’t concern myself with that, if I were you. If she is an agent, she’ll know how to look after herself.”