Dare to Love a Spy (Book 3, Age of Innocence) Page 4

  "Hannah? Are you well, dear?"

  Hannah gave herself a mental shake to dispel her thoughts about the two women. "I do apologize, Lady Hunt. My mind wandered a bit. Please, could you repeat your question?"

  Charlotte nodded. "Of course. I was merely asking if you were enjoying the Season thus far."

  "Oh, yes. I've had a lovely time these past weeks, and I must thank you for the kind invitation to dinner. I'm looking forward to it."

  "My pleasure, dear."

  Hannah hoped that Isabel would pick up on her cue. She didn't have to wait long.

  "May I ask who is attending?" Isabel asked.

  "I'm expecting a full compliment of guests."

  Charlotte listed the names, and much to Hannah's disappointment, the Duke of Wetherby had not accepted the invitation. Her shoulders slumped. She had so been looking forward to seeing him again and now wondered when they might both next be in attendance at an entertainment. She would have to wait to be invited to the next ball, and even then, there was no guarantee that he would attend.

  There was a knock on the parlor door. "Yes, enter," Charlotte said.

  Mr. Winston walked in carrying a small silver salver and presented it to Charlotte. "My lady, more letters have arrived."

  "Thank you, Mr. Winston," she said as she took the letters. "Perhaps there are more acceptances in this morning's mail."

  Hannah held her breath as Charlotte opened the three letters. The first two were invitations to tea. When she read the last one, Charlotte smiled. "What wonderful news. The Duke of Wetherby has accepted my invitation to dinner as well."

  "I'm so pleased," Hannah blurted before she realized what she was saying.

  Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "As am I."

  Hannah was saved from any further scrutiny when Georgette and Dalton walked into the parlor.

  Isabel stood and went to her cousin at once, hugging her tightly. "My dearest cousin. How have you been?"

  "I am well," Georgette said. "It's so wonderful to see you."

  Isabel stepped back, and both she and Hannah curtsied to Dalton.

  Dalton bowed. "Ladies, it is a pleasure to see you both again. I hope you are enjoying your visit."

  "Dalton, will you be staying for tea?" Charlotte asked.

  Dalton strode over to his mother and kissed her cheek. "Unfortunately, not today, Mother. I have some business to attend to." He kissed Georgette. "Enjoy your visit, my darling," he said as he left the ladies to talk in private.

  A housemaid brought in a tray of tea and lemon cakes. "Do you require anything else, my lady?" she asked.

  "No, that is all."

  For the next two hours, the women enjoyed good company and conversation. By the time Isabel and Hannah left, Hannah could hardly contain her excitement.

  "Can you believe it? The duke is coming to dinner," she gushed.

  "I've not had the privilege of making his acquaintance yet, so I'll be anxious to meet the man who has captivated your fancy," Isabel said.

  "You will be greatly impressed, I'm sure."

  "Indeed."

  "Isabel, I couldn't help but notice how alike you and Lady Hunt look."

  Isabel took a moment to answer. "I so agree. You can imagine my surprise when I made her acquaintance."

  "Well, you are both beautiful."

  Isabel smiled. "What a lovely thing to say. Thank you, Hannah."

  "My pleasure. Now, what shall we wear to the dinner? I want to look my best."

  "You will be beautiful in anything you wear."

  Chapter

  7

  "I'M TOLD THIS IS THE loveliest rose garden in all of London."

  Mary tilted her head. "Then you've been told correctly." Without looking in his direction, Mary followed Camden to the far corner of her gardens.

  "What news do you have?" Camden asked. "You know I don't like to meet during the day."

  Mary crept closer, until only a hair's breadth separated them. "There are two new couples attending the Hunt dinner on Friday, Lord and Lady Knightly and Lord and Lady Sargent. I've heard that the Lord and Lady Knightly have recently returned from an extended trip abroad. From what I could gather, Lord Knightly enjoys country life, but his young, spirited wife wants to be in London for the Season. I've not heard anything about Lord and Lady Sargent."

  Camden stood still, absorbing the information, his large frame dwarfing Mary's petite one. "We need to start somewhere in ferreting out the truth. It may have been a commoner who murdered Henry, but seeing as both couples were in London during the time of the murders, I'll visit the Home Office and see what information can be gleaned about them. It may be coincidental, but it's a start and perhaps a tidbit of information has been acquired already to guide the investigation."

  In an uncharacteristic show of emotion, Mary grasped his hand and held his gaze. "Camden, do be careful. This old heart of mine would not survive if anything should befall you."

  Camden leaned down and kissed her cheek. "My dear Lady Tisbury, I would never want to cause you any undue suffering, so I give you my solemn promise that I will be careful. I shall see you on Friday," he said, melting into the background and slipping out the hidden gate in the back of the gardens.

  "I'll hold you to that promise," Mary whispered.

  "Aunt Mary, where are you?" came a young woman's voice on the wind.

  Mary hurried along the path to a patch of white roses in the opposite corner of the gardens. "Hannah, dear, I'm in the white garden."

  Hannah came into view, and Mary took a moment to study her niece. She was becoming more poised and beautiful every day, although a bit of her wild streak still remained. Mary loved her even more for it, but she'd never tell Hannah's parents that. John Richardson, Mary's brother and Hannah's father, was a stickler for decorum. To him, Hannah was a handful. To Mary, Hannah was perfect. Her dark hair was gathered into a bun at the nape of her neck, and her brown eyes sparkled with flecks of gold. Where had the time gone? It seemed only yesterday that she was a child running free, her hair flying out behind her and her laughter filling the air with her joy. But as with all things, the child had matured, and a lovely young woman now stood before her.

  "What brings you out in the gardens today, dear?"

  "I came looking for you to see if you needed help with the flowers."

  Mary handed Hannah the basket on her arm and the clipping shears. "That would be lovely. I want the white and pink roses for the centerpiece tonight."

  Hannah nodded and began clipping the roses the way her aunt had showed her countless times before. "Umm…I was thinking."

  Mary arched an eyebrow. She knew Hannah well, and especially knew when she was about to ask a favor. "Yes, Hannah?"

  "Perhaps it would not be too impertinent to ask for new ribbons for Lady Hunt's dinner?"

  "I see. Is that all?"

  Hannah nodded and continued to cut the roses that Mary pointed to.

  "As a matter of fact, I'm headed out to see Mrs. Phillips later today. Would you care to come along and choose your new ribbons?"

  Hannah put the basket and shears down and hugged the older woman. "Thank you, Aunt Mary. I do so want to look my best for the—"

  "I suspect you were going to say for the Duke of Wetherby."

  "Well, yes, but not just for him, of course. I want to look my best for all of my engagements. The last thing I want is to embarrass you or Uncle Albert."

  Mary clasped her hands together and gave her niece a hard stare. "Hannah, you mustn't try to fool me. I know exactly what you were thinking, and I would caution you not to become too enamored of the Duke of Wetherby. He's an extremely private man and would not appreciate undue attention on your part."

  Hannah nodded. "But Aunt Mary, he does owe me a dance, does he not?"

  Mary tried hard not to smile. Her niece was as
bold as she was beautiful, a combination that was hard for most men to resist. "Yes. I do believe he does. Now, why don't you take the roses inside?"

  Hannah picked up the basket and nearly skipped back to the house. Mary watched her carefree niece until she rounded the bend and disappeared from sight.

  Camden doesn't know what he's done, she thought.

  Once Hannah made up her mind, nothing and no one could usually steer her from her course. Mary would have to try harder to dissuade her young niece from developing an infatuation with the spy. Camden's line of work was too dangerous, and the last thing she wanted was for her niece to get tangled up in it somehow. She knew Camden would not purposely put Hannah in danger, but she had seen the twinkle in his eye when Hannah had boldly asked for a dance. If nothing else, Camden loved a challenge, and Hannah was certainly that.

  It's going to be a most interesting dinner, she thought as she headed back to the house.

  CAMDEN DARKIN STARED AT the pile of papers spread out on his large oak desk—Parliamentary papers, receipts, invoices, invitations—the list went on and on. He ran his hand through his dark hair, frustration etched on his handsome face. This was not the life he had envisioned for himself. He was a soldier and a spy, not a duke. The untimely death of his older brother, Alexander, had cast him into a position that he was not comfortable with and woefully unprepared for. He had not been the one sitting at Father's knee, learning all the intricacies of running a successful dukedom. Alexander had excelled at it, and Camden had made a practice of skipping lessons, although his father had tried to engage him in the details. His brother had been the heir and the next Duke of Wetherby. Camden was used to blending into the background, using his perceptiveness to root out conspiracies against the Crown. That was what he was good at and that was the only thing he wanted to do. Unfortunately, life had had other plans for him, and try as he might, he could not think of any way to change that.

  With Alexander's sudden death eighteen months ago, Camden was now responsible for his sixteen-year-old sister, his thirteen-year-old brother who was currently away at Eton, and his mother, Katherine, the Duchess of Wetherby, at least until he married. That was another point of contention. Marriage was for other people, not him. It was the problem that plagued him most these days. He didn't want to marry, especially after enduring the aftermath of Henry's horrific death. His friend had died on his watch. He was responsible for the lives of the spies under his command. What kind of spymaster was he if he could let this happen? Henry's wife was devastated, and Camden did not want to subject any woman to that late-night knock on the door. Witnessing Lady Sunderland's distress at losing her husband was enough to strengthen his resolve never to marry.

  He had made up his mind to hold steadfast to his decision. The dukedom would pass to his brother, William, and Camden would make sure he was well schooled in the running of it.

  He was drowning under the burdens and responsibilities of so many lives—his mother, his sister, his brother, his tenants, his spies—it was enough to keep him awake long into the night. Adding to this stress was his work for the Crown, and Camden had no time to dwell on anything or anyone.

  Except.

  Maybe.

  Miss Hannah Richardson.

  A smile graced his lips when he thought of her. He remembered the feeling of the soft curves of her backside melted against him when he had pulled her close in Mary's garden. What would her full, pouty lips feel like pressed against his own? Something—some deep buried need—had awakened in him that night. Her boldness in the ballroom had initially surprised him, but she was like a breath of fresh air, unlike the timid, twittering young women most of the mothers of the ton were constantly putting in his path. It was no wonder he accepted so few invitations these days. Even his icy glares had not stopped the invitations from arriving daily. It was enough to drive a sane man mad.

  He had accepted the dinner invitation from Lady Hunt so he could try to ascertain if there was anything afoot with the new families coming to London for the Season. Or so he told himself. But was the reason because he knew Hannah would be in attendance? He had to admit he was looking forward to seeing her again and, most especially, to what she might say to him. He had felt badly about leaving Mary's party early especially when he had promised Miss Richardson a dance, but there was nothing he could do about that. Duty called and duty came first.

  A soft knock on his office door ended his musings about Miss Richardson.

  "Enter."

  Courtney opened the door and slipped inside. "Camden, would you like to join Mother and I for tea?"

  He looked up at the hopeful face of his sister. Her dark hair was neatly piled into a bun at the nape of her neck, and her light-blue day dress complemented the blue of her eyes perfectly. She was the picture of a proper young lady, but more than that, she was very dear to him. He disliked disappointing her, but the stacks of paper on his desk from his man of business meant hours of work yet to complete. He stood and walked to her, giving her a brotherly hug and placing a sweet kiss on the top of her head. "You know I'd like nothing better than to spend more time with you, but—"

  "Oh, Camden. There's always a 'but' these days. Could you not spend just a few moments with us, please? Surely you can spare that."

  He chuckled. "Well, how can I refuse such a sweet plea? I'll be there in a moment."

  Courtney stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. You are the dearest brother any girl could wish for."

  "No talk of marriage, understood?"

  "Of course. I'll inform Mother," Courtney said as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Camden had no doubt Courtney would tell their mother, but that did not mean the duchess would not try to bring up the topic anyway. Katherine would try to be sly about it, but inevitably, talk about this young lady or that one would creep into the conversation. He was fighting an ongoing battle with her, one where each side wanted the opposite outcome. There was no compromise to be brokered because she didn't understand his reluctance. He had never told her of his business with the Crown and it made it hard for her to understand his reluctance. He would hold firm—there would be no marriage at this time, and that was the end of it.

  He took one last look at the piles on his desk before striding out of the room to join the women of his family for tea. He hoped to spend a leisurely thirty minutes with them, but the tension in his chest told him a different story.

  His mother and sister were seated on the sofa when he entered the parlor.

  "Camden, how lovely of you to join us," his mother said.

  "My pleasure, Mother, but I must warn you that I have an appointment to attend to, so I will not be able to spend much time with you."

  His mother smiled while Courtney poured her brother a cup of tea. "Any time you can join us is most welcome," Courtney said, handing him the cup.

  "Camden, Courtney and I would like to do a bit of shopping tomorrow. May I ask if you'd be inclined to join us?"

  Camden managed to keep his face expressionless. He knew what his mother was doing. No doubt they would 'accidently' run into one or several young ladies hunting for husbands this Season as they perused the shops, but the hopeful look on his sister's face convinced him that Courtney, at least, just wanted his company on the outing.

  He inclined his head. "I'd be delighted, Mother. I'll clear my calendar so we might spend a leisurely afternoon together."

  Before his mother could request anything else of him, there was a knock on the door.

  "Enter," Camden said.

  The door opened and Mr. Hester walked into the parlor. He held out a silver salver to Camden. "Your Grace, this letter came for you."

  Camden took the letter. "Thank you, Mr. Hester."

  The butler nodded. "Will there be a reply?"

  Camden opened the letter and stared at the contents, already knowing whom it
was from. All it said was, NOW

  "No reply, Mr. Hester."

  "Very good, Your Grace," the butler said as he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

  Camden shoved the letter into his pocket and stood. "My apologies, Mother, Courtney, but I must attend to an important matter.

  "Will we see you at dinner?" his mother asked.

  "I don't know how long my business will take. Don't wait dinner for me," he said, kissing his mother's cheek before striding from the room.

  Camden fumed while he waited for his horse to be saddled. How dare he summon me thus? He'd have to speak to Jeffries about sending messages to his home in the middle of the day. They were too noticeable, and he didn't like it. Stealth was his forte, and it had served him well so far.

  "Your Grace, Ares is ready," the groom said, handing the reins to Camden.

  In one swift motion, Camden was seated on the black stallion. The horse seemed to pick up on his anger, snorting and throwing his head back. "Easy, boy," Camden said, patting the horse's neck. With a slight touch of his heels, Camden was on his way to see Jeffries.

  It didn't take long for Camden to reach the Home Office. His anger had cooled somewhat by the time he strode past the desk in the outer office.

  "Your Grace, may I help you?" asked the young man.

  He shook his head and didn't bother to knock on the solid oak door, but opened it and went right through. An older man with streaks of white in his hair looked up at the interruption.

  "Wetherby, good of you to come so quickly."

  Camden slammed his hand down on the desk. "Jeffries, how you dare summon me like a new recruit? I shall not stand for it."

  William Jeffries rose from his chair and went to the side table to pour two glasses of brandy. He was of average height and average build, the perfect combination to blend in so easily. He handed one to Camden before inviting him to sit. "I understand, but it couldn't be helped. I wasn't sure when I would see you again, and I have vital information to pass along."