Seducing the Spy (17 page)

She sighed. "He is quite attractive. And I haven't been around many attractive men lately."

Garrett cleared his throat. She patted his hand. "You know what I mean. Besides, you aren't attractive. You're insanely beautiful."

He nodded matter-of-factly. "Quite right." Then he helped her into the gown and sat her down on the stool before the dressing table to fix her hair. "Now, are we aiming for coy vixen or are you going all out this morning and aspiring to shameless hussy?"

She squinted at her image in the mirror. "I'd say shameless vixen. Much more appropriate for daytime, don't you think?"

This resulted in her hair being a rather mussed version of what the other ladies were wearing, with a few long strands pulled loose "as if some man just couldn't keep his hands off you in the linen closet" and allowed to dangle into her cleavage.

"It'll drive the gents mad," Garrett insisted. "They'll be wishing they could pull it free for you and not daring to be so bold."

The deceptively demure day gown was anything but, for it was constructed with all the floating bosom that whalebone and buckram could provide her—which was a considerable expanse of plump, ivory skin.

"Oy," Garrett breathed worshipfully when she was dressed. "It's almost enough to make a tea leaf turn to women."

"I wish you would," Alicia grumbled. "For I'd much rather run away with you than to go back into that writhing brothel downstairs."

Garrett pinched her arm. "Nonsense. I'm entirely out of your reach anyway."

"Humility is a virtue, Garrett."

"So say ugly people." He fetched her gloves and a lacy lambswool shawl. "Now, remember to lean toward the men and to lean away from the ladies." He fiddled with a stray lock of hair. "And don't spend all your time staring wistfully at Wyndham today. You don't want him to know you prefer him above all others."

"I don't stare wistfully at Wyndham!"

"No, you're right. It's rather more ravenous than wistful. Either way, ignore him a little at least. He'll hate it."

"Oh. All right then." Dressed and ready to make her appearance, Alicia turned one last circle before Garrett. "Am I properly armed?"

"You're entirely deadly and you're decidedly late. Everyone else has been up for hours."

She whirled at the sound of Wyndham's rumbling voice. He was standing in the doorway of their bedchamber as if he'd been there some while.

Oh, bother. She only hoped he hadn't been there long enough to hear the "wistful" remark.

"Well, then. I had best be on my way then." She excused herself quickly, ducking past Wyndham with a nod, fleeing the room and the lingering heat that threatened to melt her away.

Once downstairs, she was told by a footman that the ladies had gathered in the east morning room. She heard them before she found the room, as the gay chatter penetrated past the door with ease.

Her steps slowed. She ought to spend the day with the ladies, as the gentlemen would be pursuing shooting or gaming all day. Custom dictated that she do so.

Then again…

She smiled and turned on her heel, nearly running as she made for the front door. Garrett was waiting for her there, her bonnet and coat in his hands.

He smirked. "Took you that long to remember that you never do as you're told?"

She grabbed up her things and bestowed a quick kiss on Garrett's sculpted jaw. "Silly me." She ran for the crisp, chill day as if it would save her life—or at least her sanity.

She knew Cross's estate fairly well… and she could feel Sutherland tugging at her through the wood.

The path was overgrown now, barely visible through the spiderwort and feverfew that had sprung up since last she'd come this way to spy on the extravagant parties given here.

Her parents must be holding a tighter rein on Alberta and Antonia since then, for they had once been known to trail after her, protesting all the way but just as determined to see.

"I'll just go to the hill, just to see the house," she told herself. "There is a pretty aspect there." She started out briskly enough, striding through the brush with her skirts lifted. Then, as the way became more and more the playground of her childhood, she began to slow.

She'd never expected to set foot on Sutherland soil again, yet there was the tree where Alberta had fallen and turned her ankle. Alicia and Antonia had run her errands for weeks, hiding the injury from their mother for fear of being forbidden to climb.

And there was the pool where Alicia had learned that falling in the water fully dressed was nothing at all like taking a dip in a shift and that pinchpenny fathers took a dim view of careless daughters who ruined nearly new frocks that were supposed to last through three girls.

Forgetting entirely her plan to stop at the hilltop, Alicia let memories pull her from one spot to the next. A favorite picnic spot, the thicket with the best berries in summer, the stile by the dairy pasture where Antonia had torn her petticoat.

Her entire life had been spent in these grassy hills. She topped the last rise and looked down upon Sutherland itself.

It was even shabbier than she remembered. The drive needed graveling and the gardens languished, the long neglect visible even in winter.

The house itself looked smaller. Those elderly stone walls had been too small to hold her then. She would surely burst them now, should she ever be allowed within again.

Which she wouldn't.

She ought to leave before someone spotted her… although there were precious few servants about. She heard someone pounding nails in the stable and a scullery boy she did not recognize came out to dump dirty water in the yard, but where was the bustle she recalled from her childhood?

Could it be that her family hadn't come home for the winter yet? Emboldened by the deserted state of the scene below, she let the ache in her heart draw her nearer.

She kept to the outer garden, stepping carefully through the fallen limbs and leaves that had yet to be cleared from autumn. There was a small garden structure nearby where she used to lie on the bench for hours, dreaming of the life her mother told her she could live—a life with a wealthy handsome man who would adore her and who would be happy to spill his pounds into Sutherland, allowing her parents to live in security and comfort and providing high connections for her sisters' marriages to boot.

All of which Alicia had very properly wanted for herself—but it was the part about the handsome man who adored her that kept her dreaming her youth away.

The small Greek-styled temple was full of garden debris and creature scat, the stone bench that had played as Ophelia's couch now caked in bird droppings.

"Of course," Alicia whispered to herself. "Isn't that the way of dreams?"

"Yours perhaps," snapped a high voice behind her. "But then you never bothered to care about anyone's dreams but your own."

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Alicia turned to see a tall girl with telltale auburn hair. The angry eyes took five years away and left only one answer. "Antonia?"

Alicia took an automatic step forward to embrace her youngest sister. Antonia drew back as if a serpent threatened her.

"What are you doing here?" Antonia wrapped her shawl more tightly and glanced over her shoulder. "Papa told you never to set foot on Sutherland again. I heard him."

Alicia drew herself up. "I don't have a father anymore, remember? Therefore, I need not obey one."

A flash of envy crossed Antonia's expression. Then her furious gaze turned fearful with the sound of a footfall on the garden path. She drew back, as if to be spotted a distance from Alicia would be less blameworthy than to be found too close.

Which, of course, was entirely sensible. As the footsteps neared, Alicia looked about her for an exit or a place to hide, but since she didn't care to drop to her knees behind the filthy bench, she resigned herself to dealing with an ugly scene.

It wasn't as though anyone here would physically harm… at least, she was fairly sure of that, sabotaged opera box or no.

Alberta rounded the corner of the building. "Tonia, Mama is looking for y—"

Alberta had changed as well. Always cheerfully plump, now Alberta was divinely curvaceous, even more so than Alicia, with a large bosom and a tiny waist. Alicia hoped her middle sister stayed out of the Prince Regent's path.

Alberta's eyes widened. "A-Alicia?"

Resigned to more accusations, Alicia folded her hands before her. "How have you been, Bertie?"

Alberta's rushing embrace nearly knocked Alicia from her feet. She let her arms come about her sister, closing her eyes against the rush of gratitude that swept her.

Alberta's emotional babble continued for several long minutes—not that Alicia minded, of course—until a sharp word from Antonia prompted Alberta to let go.

Still, she kept hold of Alicia's hand as she turned on Antonia. "Do not admonish me, Antonia. You are not the elder!"

"And yet I am the wiser," Antonia shot back. "We cannot behave as though nothing has changed!"

As she moved between them, Alicia was reminded of how she had always been the peacekeeper between these two very different girls.

Now it seemed that she was the bone of contention as well.

"Antonia, Alberta has not done anything but greet me. However, Alberta, Antonia is quite correct. We must not forget how very much has changed. I would not hurt either of you for the world—"

"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" Bright fury flashed in Antonia's eyes. "You have no idea what your wanton behavior has cost us—all of us!"

Alicia looked from one sister to the other. It was true that they both looked rather pale and she had certainly never seen the temperamental Antonia so tightly strung.

Antonia's accusations hurt, but did not surprise. However, Alberta's defense did.

Her more sanguine sister rounded on the younger one with red-hot anger. "Shut it, Tonia! You know nothing of the real world—you know nothing of what caused Licia to do what she did—not that I believe more than half of those stories, and neither should you!"

Alicia looked at Alberta in surprise. "You don't believe I spent the night with Almont's stable boy?"

Alberta flapped a scornful hand. "Of course not. What a mad idea. You were ever notional, Licia, but you were never cruel. You might have sneaked the lad some cake in a napkin, but you wouldn't use him so poorly for the world."

The perfectly Alberta-esque logic of that made Alicia smile. "Thank you, dear."

Antonia was not so easily convinced. "The fact of your ruination does not change. It makes no difference who you allowed yourself to be seduced by."

Alicia opened her mouth to point out that it made all the difference in the world to Society's eyes, but it was Alberta who leaped to her defense once more. "Oh, shut your silly trap, Tonia. She cannot help it now."

"No one can help us," Antonia said sourly. "Bertie's beau won't ask for her hand until his father gives permission, and he won't do that unless I marry very well, for he says that one might cancel out the other. And no one will court me until they've seen Bertie make a good match."

Her sisters were lost in limbo, cast there by her own actions. Alicia felt sick, and doubly furious at her parents. She'd been a fool, it was true, but she'd been a sheltered child. The entire matter could have been covered up, made to go away, had they only stopped to think before exposing her situation to all of Society.

"Antoniiiiaaa!"

Their mother's voice came from the direction of the house.

Lifelong habit kicked in. The three of them ducked quickly behind the temple and pressed their backs to the wall.

"What does she want?" Antonia asked Alberta.

Alberta grimaced. "She wants you to retrim her gowns again. She says you have the better knack."

Alicia looked at her sister. "Why doesn't she have Pitt do it, as always?"

Antonia slid a filthy glance her way. "Because Pitt is gone, like the others. We've almost no staff at all now."

Alicia looked to Alberta for confirmation. Bertie shrugged reluctantly. "It's true. But it isn't your fault, Licia—"

"The devil it isn't!" Antonia pushed away from the wall. "We were ever poor, Alicia, but not destitute. If you'd managed even the most mediocre of matches, Papa could have obtained some sort of loan from the family, enough to keep Sutherland going a bit longer!"

Alicia straightened. "I didn't send Sutherland into ruin, Antonia. I didn't cause Papa's gambling or Mama's spending. And another loan would only mean another debt, for it would be gone as quickly as the others."

Antonia flushed. "At least we would not be eating poultry every night for a year!"

Alicia raised a brow coolly. "I would have adored having poultry more than once a month in the last five years. As it was, I could scarcely afford bread."

Alberta flounced between them. "Oh, stop it. I don't want to play 'who is suffering more' right now."

Alicia let out a breath. "Nor do I." She was getting angry at the wrong party, anyway. Her sisters were caught in a terrible trap.

Bertie's young man would wait until Antonia married, and Antonia's beau would wait until Bertie married—and her sisters would wait their lives away.

Money had the marvelous ability to wash away any sort of family stain—but the Lawrences had no money.

Until now.

Alicia turned pleading eyes toward both girls. "I know it seems hard that I ask you this, but trust me. I can help. I just need time."

Time to find Wyndham's mystery lord. Time to undo some of the damage she had been so hell-bent on creating only yesterday.

Time to make sure that her parents didn't ruin another Lawrence sister in their desperation.

Stanton had little to do that morning but wait for the descent of the Prince Regent—and mull over his dilemma with Lady Alicia—so he stationed himself by the front door of the great house in order to learn as much as possible about the other guests.

Despite Stanton's efforts to investigate before he left London, it seemed that the guest list to Lord Cross's parties was one of the best-kept secrets in Society. Apparently every one involved was quite determined to make sure it stayed thus. How reassuring it must be to know that what happened on Cross's estate never left its borders.