Dare to Love a Spy (Book 3, Age of Innocence) Read online

  Dare to Love a Spy

  Age of Innocence, Book 3

  Debra Elizabeth

  2016-2019 Copyright © by Debra Elizabeth

  Cover image by Romance Novel Covers

  Cover and Interior Design and formatting by Terry Roy

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter

  1

  London, England 1817

  CAMDEN DARKIN, THE DUKE OF Wetherby, hurried along the path in the gardens of Lady Tisbury's London estate. He hardly noticed how exquisite the gardens were, with their meticulous attention to detail to color and beauty, for he was not here tonight to admire the head gardener's work. A foreboding was building in his chest as he walked farther on, and though his instincts were usually correct, he hoped this time he would be proven wrong. That would be the best outcome for all involved although he doubted it would come to pass. His long strides quickly took him to the rear of the garden as his eyes strained, searching the darkness-cloaked gardens.

  A slight movement caught his eye and Camden rushed forward. His contact was waiting for him.

  Without any preamble, the man spoke. "White Knight is down," he whispered when Camden reached his side.

  Camden paused, trepidation forcing his hands into fists. This was not what he had expected his contact to say. It was harsh news indeed, but maybe the situation was salvageable. "For good?"

  "Yes."

  Camden's mind raced ahead to the fundamental question still unanswered. "Did he deliver the package?"

  "No way to tell. His throat was cut, and he had nothing on his person."

  Despair passed over his face and his slate-gray eyes widened. This was a disaster. Unfortunately, his instincts had been proven correct again and it was not something that he relished. "Perhaps he was returning from the delivery."

  The man hesitated before he spoke again. "That's two now."

  Camden reached out and touched the man's arm. "I know. It is indeed dreadful news. Pass the word that we must all be extra vigilant going forward. No one is to venture out alone, always in two. We cannot afford to lose any more before we find out who is behind these killings. Seems we have a traitor in our midst."

  The man nodded. "Seems so."

  Camden swallowed hard, finding it difficult to believe such news. It was a devastating blow to their network. White Knight had been one of the best and longest-serving spies in the Crown's employ. In his career, he'd been able to foil countless attempts against the king's life. If someone had been able to get the jump on him, then they were all in grave danger. Camden's insides churned while acid climbed up his throat. He could hardly believe White Knight was gone, for he was not just a fellow spy; he was Camden's oldest and closest friend. His death was personal, and Camden made a silent vow to bring the killer to justice, regardless of what needed to be done. He would avenge his friend's death at any cost.

  The man asked, "Will you tell him?"

  A grimace passed over Camden's face. "Yes, but I don't relish the task. I try to visit the Home Office as little as possible these days. Jeffries has not been in the most gracious of moods lately."

  "He must—"

  A twig snapped nearby. Camden placed a finger across his lips and pointed at the path. His contact understood and silently slipped away while Camden went to investigate exactly who was in the gardens eavesdropping on their conversation.

  SEVENTEEN-YEAR-OLD HANNAH RICHARDSON CURTSIED to her partner before leaving the dance floor. "Thank you for the dance, my lord."

  "My pleasure, Miss Richardson," the gentleman said.

  Hannah's cheeks were flushed, and the ringlets of her rich brown hair that had escaped their pins lay wet against her neck. She needed some fresh air and made her way to the double doors leading to the balcony overlooking her aunt's gardens and stepped through. She looked around to make sure there were no gentlemen in the vicinity so as to not compromise her reputation. The last thing she wanted was to be forced into a marriage. She wasn't even sure she wanted to marry, but she had plenty of time to decide. This was her first Season and she loved every minute of it.

  She was hot from dancing and a few moments outside on the balcony couldn't possibly cause a scandal as long as she remained alone. She inhaled deeply of the cool night air. Goosebumps rose on her arms from the chill, but she ignored them. She was happy to be out of the stuffy ballroom, if only for a moment or two. Aunt Mary's gardens were one of her favorite places to visit, and she felt at home and comfortable here. It was her own private sanctuary, and she adored the beauty and peacefulness of the place. A few goose bumps were well worth it for a few stolen moments in such a sanctuary.

  A smile graced her lips. Hannah was happier than she'd ever been, especially since her parents had agreed to allow her to have a Season this year. She knew they wanted her to wait another year, but life in the country was boring. She craved the excitement of London. She would turn eighteen in June, and she didn't want to let another Season to go by without enjoying it to the fullest. She had badgered her parents relentlessly, but it was only when Aunt Mary offered to host her that her parents had finally agreed she could come to London. Hannah had been overjoyed at the prospect of staying with her aunt. She loved her dearly and knew her aunt would make sure she enjoyed herself, with lots of engagements and parties to attend. Lady Mary Tisbury was a respected member of the ton, and there was never a shortage of guests at her London townhouse nor of invitations to teas, musicals and soirees. Hannah's arms encircled her waist. There was no doubt she appreciated her aunt's generosity in sponsoring her.

  The Season thus far had been exciting, most especially because Hannah wasn't on the hunt for a husband like many of the other young ladies who were attending their first Season. Her parents were not pushing for her to marry. She had time to find a husband, although she would like to experience the excitement of the hunt, especially after watching her brother, Ethan, marry Miss Emily Stanton and her cousin, Colby Tisbury, marry Lady Isabel Knott, all within the last two years. She craved that drama, that rush of tantalizing feelings of impending romance, of flinging oneself into the pool of suitors and being the one to decide which young man would sweep her off her feet. The Season was one enjoyable party after another.

  Tonight, her aunt was hosting a dinner party followed by dancing. Hannah was trying hard to remember to address her as Lady Tisbury in public and not revert to the more familiar moniker of Aunt Mary. Tonight's affair was as lavish as ever, and she was enjoying it immensely.

  "It's so lovely here," she murmured as she stepped off the balcony and wandered down the path. She breathed deep inhaling the exotic smells of the gardens. Her aunt had hired the best and most experienced gardener in London,
and no other gardens rivaled the Tisbury Gardens, especially with its many varieties of roses. Hannah bent over one of the more fragrant roses and let the fragrance envelop her. When she straightened, she thought she heard voices scattered on the breeze. She looked farther down the path, but the shadows were deep and no one was in sight.

  "Who's there?" she whispered. Perhaps it was a couple seeking privacy. She knew she shouldn't go snooping, but the thought of seeing who was meeting in secret spurred her down the path.

  She looked left and right, but there was no one around. She sighed. There would be no spying on illicit love tonight and it was time to return to the ballroom before her own reputation was compromised. Before she could take another step, an arm circled around her waist and a hand tightened around her throat tugging back against a broad, hard chest.

  "Oh!" she cried out in surprise as her heart hammered in fright. A cold, quiet terror unfurled in her chest. She had never been handled so roughly in her life. Who would dare do such a thing, and especially in her aunt's gardens? What was the meaning of this? Was she going to be harmed?

  "You must be careful not to walk alone at night, Miss Richardson," a deep, husky voice whispered in her ear.

  "What do you want? Unhand me at once," she demanded, her rising indignation overtaking her original scare.

  "To pass along a warning, that's all. Heed my advice," he said, his hot breath on her neck sending unexpected shivers down her spine.

  "How dare you put your hands upon my person?" she asked, trying to dislodge the arm around her waist.

  In an instant, the pressure was gone, and she felt adrift with the mystery man gone. Hannah whirled around to confront the scoundrel who had accosted her, but there was no one there.

  "Well, I never," she said, putting her hands on her hips and stomping her foot. The encounter had unsettled her more than she wanted to admit, but if she was completely honest, that deep voice had resonated within her and she was more than a little curious about whom the owner could be. She was being foolish, of course, and shook her head free of such thoughts. A gentleman should never put his hands on a lady like that, and yet, it had been thrilling all the same.

  Her hands smoothed down her pale pink silk dress, more for calming her erratic heart beat than for any nonexistent wrinkles. With one last look around the gardens, it was time to rejoin the party. She'd had enough fresh air for one evening. She hurried back to the balcony and slipped inside the double doors. She looked around the ballroom, but no one appeared to be looking for her. She said a silent prayer of thanks and took a few deep breaths. The last thing she needed was a scandal during her first Season.

  She glanced across the floor and saw her aunt talking with a gentlemen Hannah had not been introduced to as of yet. He'd arrived only moments before dinner was served and been seated at the other end of the dining table, and she'd had no chance to inquire after his name. His tall and erect posture exuded confidence. Who was this handsome stranger? She was determined to find out his identity, especially since she hadn't been able to identify the rogue in the garden.

  She walked around the perimeter of the room, avoiding the couples whirling around the dance floor and eventually stood next to her aunt. "Aunt Mary, do you have a secret? Isn't that why people usually whisper to one another?"

  Mary's head whipped around.

  Hannah swallowed hard when she saw her aunt's lips set in a grim line. Although her aunt was not a large woman, her hard stare was enough to wilt even the strongest of men.

  "Hannah, you forget yourself."

  Hannah lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, Aunt…I mean Lady Tisbury. I meant no disrespect. Please forgive me."

  Hannah breathed a sigh of relief when Mary patted her hand. "No harm done, dear, but please mind your manners in the future. A lady does not speak so boldly. Besides, I hold no secrets. The Duke of Wetherby and I were merely discussing tonight's event." Mary turned toward the duke. "Your Grace, I don't believe you've had the pleasure of an introduction. This is my niece, Miss Hannah Richardson. She is staying with me for the Season."

  Hannah curtsied. "Your Grace. A pleasure to meet you."

  Camden bowed. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Richardson."

  Hannah studied him. He was older than her, but she had no idea what his actual age might be. He could be her brother Ethan's age of twenty-seven, or perhaps a year older, but whatever his age, she found the handsome duke intriguing, especially his piercing gray eyes. He commanded the room with his mere presence, and no other gentleman attending tonight could hold a candle to him. He was taller than most men and blessed with a chiseled jawline and broad shoulders. His black evening coat, silver waistcoat and crisp white cravat spoke of wealth. His black hair curled around his ears and brushed against his collar. What spectacular hair he had and Hannah felt a sudden urge to run her hands through it.

  Run my hands through his hair? Where did that come from?

  Hannah's curiosity was piqued. What had her aunt and the Duke of Wetherby been whispering about? Surely not something as mundane as tonight's dinner—she hardly thought that warranted whispering. She had never seen the duke before, although she had visited her aunt regularly during her youth. It was indeed a puzzle, and she adored solving puzzles.

  "I was complimenting Lady Tisbury on hosting another wonderful affair," Camden added.

  Hannah gave him her prettiest smile. "Are your compliments so rare that you find the need to whisper them, Your Grace?"

  A twitch in his jaw was the only indication her question surprised him. "Not at all, Miss Richardson, but with the orchestra playing, I wanted to be heard."

  Hannah had not yet controlled her impulsiveness to speak her mind and blurted out what she was thinking. "I see. Do you dance?"

  Camden arched an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

  Now that she had voiced her thoughts out loud, she had to follow through. "It's a simple question, Your Grace. Do you dance?" Hannah glanced at her aunt, who had raised her fan to hide her grin.

  "I do indeed," he said.

  "Excellent. I find myself without a partner for the final quadrille. Perhaps you could be persuaded to partner me?"

  Camden cleared his throat before answering. "I should be delighted, Miss Richardson."

  Hannah curtsied again. "Thank you, Your Grace. I look forward to it. Now if you'll excuse me, I see my next partner is waiting for me."

  Chapter

  2

  CAMDEN'S GAZE SWEPT OVER Hannah Richardson, watching the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away. She had a small waist, and just for a moment, he wondered what other delights he'd find under all that silk. She had surprised him with her directness, especially in one so young. He admired her spirit and wondered how she would feel in his arms while he kissed her sweet lips. Wait, what was he thinking? He knew that was impossible, especially in his line of work. She was someone he would definitely court, but he would not allow himself that privilege; it was too dangerous. It was best not to become attached to anyone, although the thought of Hannah pressed against him sent a pang of longing and need through his core. It had been far too long since he'd enjoyed the pleasures of a woman.

  "A delightful young lady," he said, turning toward Mary. "A bit forward for her first Season though. I would not put it past some of the ton to label her that or worse yet, loose if they overhear her speaking to others in such a way."

  "She's a handful, Camden," Mary said, expelling a sigh. "Why do you think I'm hosting her this Season instead of her parents? They had wanted her to wait another year to curb her wild streak, but Hannah can be relentless when she wants something."

  "I'm sure you have the matter quite in hand, but there is something else I need to discuss with you, most especially without anyone else overhearing us."

  Mary nodded. "Of course, walk with me to the refreshment table, and we'll find a quiet corner in which to speak."


  Camden extended his arm and escorted her around the dancing couples. With glasses of punch in hand, Mary nodded to the far corner.

  When they took their seats at the small table, Mary raised her fan and whispered, "What is so urgent that you must relay the information here? This is most unexpected. I like it not."

  "I'm sincerely sorry for talking about this at your dinner, but it's terrible news I bring you. I would not have intruded on you otherwise."

  A look of alarm passed over Mary's face. "What news?"

  "White Knight is gone." Camden watched as Mary digested the news.

  She fanned herself furiously and blinked back the tears welling in her eyes. When she was able to compose herself, she asked, "When did it happen, and do we know who did this?"

  Camden shook his head. "His body was found down at the docks a few hours ago, and I'm afraid there are no clues at the moment. It's a mystery why he would be down at the docks at all. I swear to you that I will find his killer. He will not get away with this horrendous act. He had to have been very clever indeed to take down White Knight. He had never been compromised before."

  "Are you sure it was a he?"

  He paused at her question. Could that be how White Knight had been found out? "Mary, you might be on to something. How else could he have been found out and attacked? He was far too careful to have been fooled so easily by a male assailant."

  Mary took a sip of her punch. "He wouldn't be the first man to be undone by a pretty woman. It's a possibility, that is all I'm suggesting."

  Camden nodded. "A very good possibility, now that I think on it although I know he was deeply in love with his wife. Even though it seems impossible White Knight was tempted by a woman, we must leave no stone unturned."