Racing with the Wind (Agents of the Crown) Page 8

  Her uncle had been a special ambassador for the Prince Regent for many years, but after Paris she’d wondered if he was involved in more than she realized. Clearly the name Nighthawk was a code for someone, someone the Times thought had helped defeat Napoleon. Mary was curious and intrigued, which gave her all the more reason to return to Paris. About that she must soon have a conversation with her uncle.

  As it turned out, she did not have to wait long.

  Chapter 7

  It happened that very afternoon; her uncle called for Mary. To her delight, instead of returning to Campbell Manor, she was to return with him to London. That would allow them time to discuss Paris, and she could visit with Elizabeth, two things she very much wanted to do.

  After saying her goodbyes to the earl and his wife, Mary climbed into the carriage and soon she and her uncle were bumping along over the country roads.

  “How was your first house party, Mary?”

  She gazed fixedly out the carriage window at the passing countryside and settled on, “It was certainly not dull.”

  “While you were saying goodbye to Lady Huntingdon, the earl told me of your ministrations to Lord Arborn and Lord Ormond after the fox hunting accident. The consensus was that you were quite brilliant.”

  Mary smiled, amused. “Is that what they think? Because a woman can treat a few injuries she is suddenly brilliant? I only did what I have done many times before. Men fall from horses. Bumps on heads and damaged bones are the usual consequences, are they not? Any one of them could have done what I did.”

  “You say that as if any woman your age would have. You are quite resourceful and calm in times of crisis, my girl. You must realize how unusual that is.”

  Mary sighed. “They probably thought me odd.”

  He grinned and shook his head. “Unusual yes, but odd? I think not. I saw respect in their eyes. There are worse things in life than caring about more than pretty dresses and dances.”

  * * *

  That night, after a quiet dinner at his town house, Lord Baynes and his niece retired to the library for a glass of port. It was here that Adrian raised the subject of his next trip.

  “Mary, I will be returning to Paris in a few weeks.”

  “I assumed you would,” she remarked. “And I was hoping you might take me with you.”

  “I’ve been considering it, but I hate for you to miss so much of your first season.”

  Mary made a face, which almost made him laugh. “Uncle, you know how little I would mind.”

  “Yes, I am aware of your feelings on the matter, but it is important for your future.”

  “Possibly Paris could be more important.”

  Adrian could see the season held little interest for his niece. “I’ll agree you were most helpful on my last trip, but there is now greater danger.” He still wasn’t convinced it was a wise idea to bring her along.

  “What is it, Uncle?”

  “If I tell you, Mary, we must keep this between us. It is a matter of the Crown’s secrets.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, her eyes imploring him to trust her. He could think of few people he trusted more.

  His gaze fixed on the fire crackling before them. At last he made up his mind.

  “Our government has a French agent in Paris who is close to the new Bourbon government. The note from the French minister’s desk you so well remembered has given us cause to wonder about that agent. Whoever wrote the note has provided the French with information concerning Britain’s activities. I am telling you this so that you are aware our business in Paris is now more dangerous. We do not know which direction this will take. I cannot tell you more, either. If you come, I would ask only that you listen with your excellent French, watch with your eyes open, and stay out of harm’s way. Even the streets have become more dangerous in the past few months.”

  “Of course I will listen and I will stay out of danger,” she said at once. Then: “You never told me who the Nighthawk is, though all London has been gossiping since that article.”

  “No,” he agreed. “I have not. I thought it best you did not know.”

  She looked puzzled then hurt. “You can trust me, Uncle. Is this agent you speak of the Nighthawk?”

  “No. He is not.”

  When he said nothing more, Mary persisted in her pleas. “Can you at least tell me something about the Nighthawk? It’s unkind to leave me wholly in the dark when I’ve been so helpful to you and the cause.”

  Adrian considered what might appease her. At last he said, “Well, he’s the subject of legend—a French legend, actually. He is a wraithlike figure who supposedly robbed Napoleon of his most guarded secrets but was never caught. Then again, perhaps he is just the deposed emperor’s excuse. A figment of the imagination.”

  “I cannot believe that. He must be real,” Mary replied. “And if he is real, I would very much like to meet such a courageous figure. The very idea he could sneak under Boney’s defenses in order to help bring him down? A masked creature of the night, a thief of secrets… How wild, how daring, how romantic!”

  Seeing his niece’s eyes light up, Adrian was anxious to change the subject. “Enough. It is best not to speak of him, especially not in France. Which brings me back to the important question: Would you feel comfortable with the role I described for you while I am in Paris?”

  She grinned. “Of course, Uncle. I said I could do that. I just want to help, and I find the idea of being involved in the Crown’s business exciting.”

  “Good,” said Adrian. He was pleased she was accepting a limited and well-defined role.

  “Uncle,” she said after a moment. “Thank you for letting me go with you.”

  He sighed. “I’m not entirely comfortable with the idea, Mary, but do I know you want to be useful. You never shy from danger. In fact, that is my fear.”

  His niece got a strange look on her face. “Uncle? You should know Lord Ormond tried to talk me into staying home, though I cannot imagine what business it is of his.”

  Adrian let out another breath. “Actually, Ormond will be working with me in this next matter. He is aware of my past work for the Crown and it is not unreasonable he would wish you to stay behind—for your safety. However, if the Prince Regent agrees you should go, you will come with me. I will talk to him.”

  He could see the relief on her face as she stretched to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Uncle.”

  His niece stood to leave. As she walked to the door, Adrian reminded himself of another matter he wanted her agreement on; he had promised her mother he would make this attempt. “Oh, and Mary? You will have time to attend the next ball before we go.”

  She let out a gasp and with pleading eyes asked, “Must I endure another of those so soon?”

  “Yes, you must,” he said, his voice firm. “The Countess Claremont’s ball is the height of the season. Even those who avoid balls will attend. Think of it as an education, practice in dealing with members of society in a normal way. That’s something you still need to learn, no matter how you decide to act in the future. And it’ll give you something to talk about in Paris.”

  “You might be right,” Mary agreed with a sigh. “Of course I will go if you ask, Uncle.”

  * * *

  She spent the next few days in London at her uncle’s town house, and during that time, several gentlemen callers, all young men who had attended her first ball, sought Mary out. Arthur Bywood was one of them.

  Mary enjoyed seeing him, actually. His smiling face and blue eyes were now quite familiar, and his conversation was less objectionable than most, but she could not imagine him as a husband. He was more like a brother.

  She thought about Hugh Redgrave, but she was also unsurprised he did not call. Rakes didn’t pay visits on young debutantes. At least, not through the front door. They preferred stalking women through gardens. Each time she thought of their encounter in the Huntingdon garden and remembered their kiss, she found she could still taste him, still feel his lips o
n hers. Sighing, she vowed to let him go. He would never call. Nor should he.

  The callers came and went in a blur of activity that left Mary feeling exhausted and Lord Baynes’s parlor smelling like a flower shop as each young man brought a new arrangement of blooms. Though she loved their scent, Mary discovered the strong odor of lilies gave her a headache and requested they be moved to another room.

  Fatiguing or not, the whirl of suitors was a small price to pay for some time in London with Elizabeth. Finally, one afternoon as they took tea in the parlor, Mary told her friend about the unexpected events that had taken place at the house party.

  Lizzy listened attentively as she captured a stray lock of copper-colored hair with a pin. “You were quite brave to have played nurse to those injured men. I could not have done it. And to think Lord Ormond was sitting before you with nothing on! It was scandalous. Only you would have taken on such a task and known what to do.”

  “He only had a bare chest, Lizzy,” Mary clarified. “But still, he wasn’t like the others I’ve tended. It was different with him. I had trouble keeping my mind on the matter at hand. His body is hard and powerful, and his chest bears scars from cuts with a blade like one who has been wounded in battle. My own thoughts were scandalous. I wanted to touch him, to run my hands over that hair on his chest, over his scars. It was all I could do to concentrate on his damaged ribs. I think I’m losing my mind.”

  “You are blushing, Mary!” Lizzy said with a laugh. “And talking about all you felt…well, it makes my skin tingle, too. There is definitely something between you. It’s too bad it couldn’t be Arthur Bywood instead, though. He may only be a younger son of an earl but he’s in love with you, I am sure of it. Didn’t he bring you that enormous bouquet of flowers staring me in the face?”

  Mary casually surveyed the flowers dominating the room. They were beautiful, and she did love the shades of purple and pink. “Yes, he did.”

  Lizzy looked smug. “I said you would be a success, Mary. And he is charming, you must agree.”

  She nodded. “I suppose he is. Very likeable and all, but I keep seeing him as the brother I never had.”

  “Oh, dear,” Lizzy said. “He would be quite disappointed to hear you say that. But it’s nice to have admirers.”

  “I suppose it is, though I feel badly he is wasting his time with me.”

  “Surely he does not see it that way. He likes your company. And, he is getting much practice in courting. That, too, is part of the season.”

  It was so like Elizabeth to find something good in every circumstance, and Mary appreciated her friend more and more. But when Mary told her about Lord Ormond’s garden kiss, Lizzy looked more thoughtful than ever.

  “Mary, this attraction to Lord Ormond…do you think it is serious? He is, after all, a decade older than you, and experienced. Remember his reputation?”

  “No. I mean, yes. Oh, I don’t know. I have no desire to be one of his many women, of course. At times he frightens me, but I think that’s because when he is near me I lose my convictions. All of them. I know it sounds awful, but it’s true.”

  “Are you worried about losing your heart?” Lizzy asked.

  Mary chewed on her lower lip. “I might be.”

  Lizzy’s eyes were wide. “What is it about him that attracts you so?”

  “He is not the man I first imagined him to be, Lizzy. He’s domineering, yes, and sometimes overwhelming. But he is also brave and kind. And he seems all right with my…ideas. When he touches me, he is…tender, almost protective. And I find I desire his touch more and more. His kiss…well, it was wonderful. I know it sounds wicked, but there it is. And did you know he plays music? Beautiful music.”

  “He does?”

  “Yes, on the piano. He played for us one evening and it was extraordinary. He has a charming laugh, too. And there is something mysterious about him that draws me. It is as if he has depths that need exploring. He is anything but boring.”

  “He certainly seems to stir your passion,” Lizzy laughed.

  “Oh, yes, he does that. But despite his kiss, he’s been honorable. And Lady Huntingdon made me think he may not be the rake that people believe. At least, not always.”

  “I have heard the same about his friend Mr. Lambeth.”

  Mary fought surprise. “You’ve been asking about him?”

  Elizabeth blushed. “Well, yes. I asked my sister Caroline. She confirmed what I remembered, that he was kind and thoughtful when she knew him in her first season. Of course, it was years ago. Since then he has built a reputation along with his friend Ormond, one that quite contradicts the rest. Still, Caroline thought he might be reformable. If only I could attract his attention the way you attracted Lord Ormond’s.”

  “Lizzy, you may not want the kind of attention I’m getting. You see, I don’t seem to be able to resist the rogue. Still, you are beautiful and have so much to offer. How could this Mr. Lambeth not notice you?”

  “You have a point about the attention, and that does worry me. About you, I mean. Lord Ormond could be dangerous, Mary, even if he’s not what people think. Particularly if you are seen alone with him. It could ruin you. You must be careful. And then of course he might be exactly what people think. A rake might trifle with a young woman such as you.”

  “I will…try to be careful,” Mary agreed. “Thankfully, his own behavior has put me off on occasion. His arrogance has helped a number of times to dampen my enthusiasm for him.”

  “So you are safe?”

  Mary was not at all sure she was safe when it came to this man with cavern-deep eyes and strong arms that wrapped around her like a vise, arms she did not want to leave. She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I would say I was safe, Lizzy. Like a rabbit staring into the eyes of a wolf.”

  * * *

  The next day Elizabeth talked Mary into attending a morning garden party featuring a breakfast out of doors in the fresh air with several young men and women from the first ball and from the Huntingdon house party. Mary actually enjoyed herself, though Lord Ormond did not attend. His absence was disappointing if predictable. She reminded herself that it wasn’t as if such a man would participate in the usual escapades of men seeking mates, especially if he was nursing wounded ribs. She supposed rakes had their own parties, too, and she was not at all certain she wanted to know anything about them.

  Being with Elizabeth was great fun, and Mary enjoyed the tasty food on which they dined. Afterward, she accompanied Elizabeth and her oldest sister Caroline on a shopping excursion. Caroline had a special shop she wanted to show the younger women, though she saved it till last.

  A redhead like Elizabeth’s other sisters, Caroline was grinning by the time they reached their destination, which made Mary wonder just what was sold here. The sign hanging over the door told them it was a place offering ladies’ undergarments, but she couldn’t see much through the bow window. It was one of many new shops springing up on Brook Street close to the well-traveled Bond Street.

  As they entered through a paned glass door, a bell chimed announcing their arrival. Mary and Elizabeth stepped onto the dark wood floor and surveyed piles of sheer fabric and lace laid out on long wooden trestle tables. There were many bolts of fabric, but also silk undergarments on display. Mary’s eyes grew wide when she realized how little they would cover. The transparent underthings captivated her.

  “These are certainly different than the plain shifts I wear,” Lizzy whispered into her ear.

  Mary ran her fingers under a diaphanous cream-colored chemise with small bows at the top. “I can see my fingers through this one. It would leave little to the imagination.”

  “I believe that is the idea, Mary,” said Caroline.

  Lizzy picked up one of the chemises, fingering the fabric. “The flower embroidery on this is unusual, and the detail very fine.”

  Caroline joined her sister to look. “They are from France and so terribly exciting for a husband. French women certainly know how to entice a man. I’m sure
one day you both will want to have several of the lacy things.”

  Mary picked up a chemise with delicate lace at the top. Her breasts tightened in anticipation as she considered how the sheer silk would feel against her skin and wondered what a man like Lord Ormond would think if he could see her in it.

  Of course, that would never happen. So why wait for the approval of such a man? “I like them very much and think I will not wait for such a day.”

  Surprisingly, Elizabeth agreed. When the proprietress told them she had several samples for sale, they decided to buy those and also order more. Elizabeth was fondest of a pale blue garment Mary thought beautifully complemented her friend’s eyes. Mary’s favorite was the chemise she first fondled.

  “It will make me feel positively wicked!” Lizzy exclaimed, coming close to giggling.

  “I suppose it’s all right you have some, but best not let Mother see them for a while,” said her older sister.

  With their outrageous purchases tucked under their arms, the three young women went in search of a teashop. Finally they were seated, and with cups of the steaming liquid in their hands Caroline recalled for them stories of her early marriage demonstrating the value of see-through chemises. Breaking off the corner of her scone, she said, “No man can resist seeing his wife through one of them. As hard as my George labors over his Parliamentary journals, I have found it easy to distract him when I’m wearing one of these. There is no doubt they have been responsible for the quick arrival of our three children.”

  While Mary was not the type to giggle, she did smile broadly at the thought of how Lord Ormond’s face might look upon seeing her in her new purchase. The idea made her tingle in many different places. At the same time, however, it shocked her. She decided to keep the thought to herself.

  * * *

  It had been several days since Hugh arrived back at his family’s country estate to convalesce. Sitting around was anathema to him, and so finally he decided a short ride would be just the thing to confirm, as he suspected, that his ribs had not been badly cracked and were healing well. He set off quickly, before his mother could object.