The Fashionable Spy (26 page)

“I would invite you to live with us, but I have not mentioned the matter to Sir Edward. And anyway, there is no sign of Geoffrey on the horizon, much less a wife. However, I feel sure you both would be welcome in our home, if needs be.”

“Heavens, intrude upon a newly married couple? That would be most unkind, my dear.” Julia chuckled at the image of a highly irate Sir Edward when confronted with relatives on his honeymoon.

“But welcome, all the same,” Victoria insisted. She was frightened of her emotions, and she would gladly receive her sisters as a buffer.

“We shall find our little house if it becomes necessary. Perhaps we will visit Aunt Bel for a time, after your wedding.”

“Oh, Julia, what am I going to do?” Victoria wailed, suddenly overcome with the enormity of the situation into which she had been plunged through no fault of her own. She stared bleakly at the array of flowers that lay in her lap.

“Persevere, my dearest. Persevere.”

The day wore on. Elizabeth accepted the news of the coming wedding with surprising tranquility.

“I hope I shall have the privilege of attending you,” she said timidly, quite unlike the usual Elizabeth.

“You and Julia are the only ones I care about,” Victoria declared.

“We shall wear aquamarine,” Julia said in a decisive manner.

Even the thought of her favorite color did not bring a smile to Elizabeth’s lips. Victoria and Julia exchanged worried glances.

“Fine,” Elizabeth said. She knelt on the floor to play with Rosemary, allowing her niece to pull ribands and tug curls with impunity.

“Victoria,” Elizabeth inquired suddenly, “who do you suppose sent that drawing, and did they really intend blackmail? Or was something else contemplated?”

“I wondered the same. It is the outside of enough when a couple can be forced into marriage merely because of a chance circumstance. It is not as though we plotted the thing, or I set out to trap the man. Nor him, for that matter. And why threaten us with what is now old news?’’ She well knew that such a matter could hang over a woman’s head for years, but it seemed so vastly unfair that she had to rail against it.

“Think back. It had to be someone who knew of your whereabouts, when you were due to return home, and that you were delayed. That person would have had to have access to a good bit of information. Who?” Elizabeth turned to look earnestly at both her sisters.

“Well, we chatted with any number of people at the conversazione after I returned. Could we have permitted a word then without realizing it? And there are the people in the war office who know that I had been in Dover and was delayed on my way home. Perhaps the traitor lurks within?”

“I bumped into Lord Leighton near the war office,” Elizabeth commented.

“Surely you do not believe he has had anything to do with this?” Julia exclaimed, openly shocked.

“Well, he pops up at the oddest places, and he has sought me out a number of times for no particular reason I can see. And he
was
at the war office, as I said.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, I hardly think he would be a traitor. Sir Edward appears to think quite highly of him.” Julia glanced from Victoria to Elizabeth and back again.

“It might be that he finds your charms irresistible,” teased Victoria.

“Rubbish,” Elizabeth declared fervently. “I suspect he is up to something. And,” she continued, “I hope you will not try to hoodwink me again like you did when he stayed the night in the library.’’

“He shall be there tonight, dearest,” Victoria cautioned, not wishing a repeat of the previous eruption.

“I shall take great care to keep my distance, in that event. I mislike being teased. That is for children.” Elizabeth raised her pretty nose, then turned as the door opened to admit a young maid carrying a bouquet and a missive.

“Miss Dancy, these just came for you.”

Victoria accepted the flowers and the note, dismissing the girl with polite thanks.

“What does he say?” Elizabeth inquired pertly.

“Lizzie, have a care,” Julia scolded.

“It is nothing more than written notification that he has arranged for our wedding at St. George’s; the first of the banns are to be called next Sunday. And the announcement shall be in
The Morning Post. “
Victoria looked at the bouquet of spring flowers, gorgeous French lilacs, then sniffed their sweet perfume.

“Is that all?” Elizabeth mocked. “I should hope that if I ever marry, my husband-to-be would be more lover-like than that.”

“Elizabeth, enough!” Julia said, her temper snapping. “You are well aware this is far from the usual wedding.” She took note of the expression on Victoria’s face, then went on, “Besides, Sir Edward has a million things to do, I am sure. He will be here this evening, along with Lord Leighton. Please try to remember that there is far more at stake here than what is on the surface.”

“Yes, little sister,” Victoria added. “How many weddings can you recall that have come about owing to a matter of state? Other than the royal ones?”

Elizabeth pointedly turned her back on her sisters and resumed playing with the twins.

After sharing a concerned look at this uncommon behavior of their sister with Julia, Victoria shrugged, then quietly slipped from the room, taking her lilacs with her.

The day did not get better. Victoria wondered what would happen if she simply disappeared, and contemplated a trip to Portugal to seek out Geoffrey. The impossibility of the task brought her consideration to an end.

Late in the evening she took refuge in her temporary bedchamber, making certain first that her nightgown and all other things she might wish were removed from her room.

The house grew quiet, and as Victoria snuggled beneath her covers, her mind wandered down the hall into her room. Would the intruder return tonight? Sir Edward appeared convinced that he would.

She turned over, trying to find sleep. Her eyelids kept flying open at the least hint of sound. At last she gave up, pushing herself up in her bed and stuffing an extra pillow behind her.

Dared she light a candle? Perhaps not, for these muslin curtains would reveal the light. What was happening along the hall? Had Sir Edward met with Lord Leighton? Who was where? And what if Sable interfered, or barked at the wrong moment, or was hurt?

She scrunched down under the covers, contemplating the problems that might arise.

Was that a creak in the hall? She could stand the suspense no longer. Quietly she threw back her covers, then carefully rose from her bed, ignoring the slippers she had used earlier. She would need to use her bare feet to find the way beyond a doubt. Grabbing her favorite blue robe, she hastily tied it about her, then crossed to ease open the door to the hall.

Silence.

She stood for several minutes listening, wondering. Then she began her soundless inch-by-inch advance upon her room. She knew every squeak in the wood floor, every lump in the carpet, and all protrusions into the hall. She avoided touching the doors along the way.

Her heart thumped madly, and in the silence of the house it sounded like the pounding of a horse on a woodland path. Hands damp with anxiety and nerves stretched more tautly than ever in her life, she continued on her noiseless course.

Then she heard a faint scrape of wood—the very slightest of sounds—and she remained as a statue, silent and still.

Nothing. It seemed as though her heart stopped while she waited, wondered.

Then all the world broke loose. A shot rang out, followed by sounds of scuffling. A piece of china crashed to the floor, and a fleeting thought was spared for her precious Dresden water pitcher.

When Sable yelped as though in pain, Victoria could stand it no longer. She dashed to the bedroom door, alone, for all the others had been warned to stay in their rooms.

Throwing open the door to her room, she could see little, in spite of being somewhat accustomed to the dark. Two figures wrestled near the window. Sable could not be seen, but she heard his whimpering and winced when he yelped again, quite obviously kicked by someone, most likely the intruder. Sir Edward would never knowingly harm the dog who so obviously adored him.

She took a step inside, wishing she knew how to help. She had grabbed a large wooden toy before leaving her temporary room, and now raised it, only to lower it again. What if she hit the wrong person?

Then she saw a flash of metal in the faint light from the window. “Look out!” she cried, afraid that Sir Edward would be shot, possibly killed.

Bang! The reverberation of the gun seemed loud enough to bring down the ceiling. Victoria ran forward, unable to remain by the door. She paused at the corner of her bed, trembling, yet determined.

Finally she struck out, missing her target, to her frustration.

The intruder turned, dashed to the window, vaulted over the edge, and was gone.

“How did he do that?” Victoria whispered.

The second figure, whose silhouette she knew to be Sir Edward’s, did not come to her, but rather dashed after the intruder, and in minutes had also disappeared over the sill.

Silence once again.

Victoria ran to the window, to discover ropes dangling over the side, and curious little metal clips at the window edge. Staring out into the poorly lit night, she could see nothing. Where had Sir Edward gone? Was he all right?

She lit a candle, bringing it to the window to examine the scene more closely. Evidence of the scuffle lay all about her. She glanced out of the window again, worried and fearful for the man she loved. Dear God, she prayed he’d be safe.

Sable whimpered again, and Victoria was at his side in a flash, upbraiding herself for her lack of concern for her pet. Blood seeped from a wound. She frantically hunted for a cloth, then cleaned the area before applying a pressure pad against it. The dog looked up at her with beseeching eyes, and Victoria settled herself on the floor, cradling his head in her lap.

“Victoria? What has happened?” Julia rushed into the room, followed by Elizabeth.

“We heard the shots. Gracious, this room looks upside down,” Elizabeth declared softly, as though afraid that the villain lurked somewhere nearby. “Sir Edward is gone?”

“I fear for his life,” Victoria said, sweeping a glance over her room. Her beloved Dresden pitcher had been smashed to bits, and other belongings were scattered about the room as though a storm had churned it up.

“Sable has been shot. Send for Sam, if you will. There is nothing we can do now but care for the dog. Sir Edward and whoever he chased have gone. I heard the horses gallop off down the street.”

“Sir Edward did well to keep his horse close by tonight,” Elizabeth said.

“Indeed,” Victoria whispered, turning again to stare out of the window. Somewhere in the night Sir Edward pursued someone, and his life was most definitely in danger.

“How curious,” Elizabeth said, bending over to pick something up from the floor. “A gold thread. I wonder what that came from? Perhaps your shawl?”

Victoria stared at the thread, shimmering in the candlelight. She owned no shawl, or anything else, for that matter, that had that sort of thread in it. But she knew where she had seen the like before.

Chapter 15

“Perhaps I may be of help, Miss Dancy.” Lord Leighton entered the bedchamber, swiftly walking to where Sable curled up, half-draped across her lap. With great care he went over the dog, determining its injuries.

His hands were oddly gentle for a man, it seemed to Victoria as she observed him. Watching with worried eyes as Leighton examined the large pet, she found herself torn. Part of her felt she must tend her devoted poodle; the other part wanted to dash after Edward. The sensible part of her took over when Sam stepped hesitantly into the room, pausing by the door before striding over to the injured dog.

“Bad, is he?” Sam queried in a compassionate voice. “Let us see.” The two men conferred together, totally ignoring Victoria, who sat beside them numb with all that had occurred the past hour.

“I think it best if we take the animal to the stable, miss. It gets along fine with the horses, and we can tend it best there.” Sam bobbed in her direction with a semblance of courtesy.

Drained beyond belief, Victoria reluctantly nodded. As much as she wished to remain by her pet, she knew full well that Sam could do what was necessary for now. She would rest, then assume the job of nursing the dog who had served her with such faithfulness.

“As you say, it is most likely for the best.” She watched them gently carry the dog from the room, using a small rug that Elizabeth thrust at Sam for a sling. When their footsteps had faded away, she pulled herself up, then walked to the window to examine again the curious metal pieces that clamped inside the window surround.

“I wonder if they are the sort of thing that is used by alpine climbers’?” Julia said as she peered over Victoria’s shoulder.

“Clever.”

“Everyone is clever in this but us,” Elizabeth said, her disgust obvious.

“I suppose we were simply too close to the situation,” Victoria murmured, wondering if she would ever be able to sleep this night. Where did he ride in the dark of the night? Would they head out of London? She wished she knew.

“I propose a lovely cup of chocolate, and Victoria may explain just why she was in this room when the shots went off. You might have been killed, love,” Julia reprimanded her gently. She gathered her sisters, then urged them from the bedchamber and down the stairs to the morning room. Within minutes chocolate was brought, having been anticipated by the cook, whose room was directly over Victoria’s, thus she had heard the ruckus.

“I could not endure the suspense,” Victoria said after polishing off the hot chocolate. “The house was like a tomb, and I wanted to know what happened.” At the accusing frown from Julia, Victoria shrugged, adding, “My future husband was in there, likely to get killed if that intruder was handy with a gun.”

“For someone who did not wish to marry him, you have done a changeabout.’’ Elizabeth added, more softly, “Dear Victoria, we might manage without you, but I should never like to try.’’