Educating Elizabeth (11 page)

With a soft curse, Gervase stared out of the window into the deserted square. He had not bedded anyone since he had installed Elizabeth in his house. If he took care of his baser urges, perhaps he would be able to view Elizabeth more dispassionately.

Gervase pushed Elizabeth from his mind, rang the bell, and waited for Sir John to deliver his morning correspondence. Sir John appeared, his arms full of parchments dangling official-looking seals. Gervase retrieved his newspaper as Sir John dumped the pile onto the desk.

"Your Grace, you solved the riddle!"

Gervase turned, one eyebrow raised, to find Sir John staring at the two sheets of parchment Gervase had taken from Elizabeth on the previous evening. "I beg your pardon?"

"We all failed to find the key to this code until now. How on earth did you solve it?"

"I was not the one who completed this puzzle," Gervase said dryly. "It was Mrs. Waterstone."

"How the devil did she manage that? Do you think she is in league with her stepfather after all? Did he send her to provide him with information?"

"I don't know. I found her working on the puzzle last night. She made no effort to hide it and seemed totally unaware of the importance of the contents."

He glanced again at her immaculate handwriting. The newly revealed message was his first clue to the identity of a potential French assassin. Sir John came to stand beside him.

"Mrs. Waterstone did say she had an affinity for languages," Sir John mused. "Perhaps she has a natural affinity for code too."

"Whatever her reasons, I think we will have to ask for her help. If she can truly break this code, I will be eternally grateful. I suggest we reveal some of our true purpose to Mrs. Waterstone and get her to explain how this particular code works. If she speaks the truth and another can replicate her methods, we will know she is trustworthy. If not, I will deal with her myself."

Sir John bowed and went to the door. "I will go to see if Mrs. Waterstone has finished her breakfast. For a moderately sized woman she eats a great deal, wouldn't you say, Your Grace?"

Before Gervase could reply, Sir John was gone and Nicholas Gallion sauntered into the room.

"Ah, Nick," Gervase said, scarcely raising his eyes from the incriminating document. "It seems as if Mrs. Waterstone will be helping us in our endeavors to defeat the French. Sir John will explain it to you."

Nicholas sat down his eyes alight with interest. "Then what do you wish of me?"

"I'm still unsure as to where Mrs. Waterstone's loyalties lie. I want you to shadow her every move-- especially when she goes to meet her family."

"Now that will be a pleasure. Mrs. Waterstone is a charming companion and easy on the eyes as well."

Gervase used his rolled up newspaper to clout Nicholas on the head. "Leave her alone, Nick. She is recently widowed."

Nicholas retreated to the door and then turned and grinned. "It's all right, Your Grace. I've seen the way she looks at you. As far as she is concerned, there is only one man in the house."

Pleased by the observation, Gervase returned to his perusal of the documents whilst he waited for Elizabeth. He had labored over the code for days. The sureness of Elizabeth's deductions and the speed of her conclusions took him by surprise. But had she broken the code because she already had the key? Was she now preparing to pass the information onto her stepfather and thus to the French?

"Your Grace? You wished to speak to me?"

Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, a half-eaten piece of toast in one hand. Gervase had never seen a more unlikely looking spy. He got to his feet and waved her into a chair as Sir John came in and closed the doors behind him. Elizabeth seemed unperturbed by her summons, her face reflecting only her usual intelligent interest. Gervase's experience told him that she was either unaware of her supposed crime, or a liar of extraordinary cleverness.

"Mrs. Waterstone, you told me that you were working on a puzzle last night." He passed her the two pages of parchment. "Is this the one?"

"Yes, indeed, Your Grace," she said promptly. "I don't understand why the person who attempted to solve it before was so mutton-headed." She glanced up as Sir John coughed loudly. "It was quite easy once I worked out the key. Although I found the solution almost as incomprehensible as the puzzle."

Gervase fought to repress a smile as she handed the parchment back. "You did not understand the message?" he said, all his attention focused on her face.

She raised her eyebrows as though humoring a child. "What message? The puzzle is obviously the work of some lunatic." She leaned forward and jabbed her piece of toast at the papers in his hand. "An assassin named
Le Fleur
is planning to kill a member of the Royal family?" She laughed. "Would you have me run down to Carlton House and alert the Horse Guards?"

Gervase slowly shook his head. "No, my dear, that would be a shocking waste of your resourcefulness. You would be thought quite foolish, if not insane. I've a much better idea. I would much rather you help me catch him."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open and her toast fell from her fingers to the carpet. Gervase nodded to Sir John and he left them alone. He allowed the silence to stretch for another few moments.

"Please excuse my self-congratulatory expression, Mrs. Waterstone, but I believe this is the first time I've managed to render you speechless. I confess to enjoying the moment."

To his surprise, Elizabeth ignored him. "How could I have been so stupid?" She shot to her feet and under his fascinated gaze began to pace the carpet, her hands clasped together. "I knew this wasn't right." She made an all-encompassing gesture that took in his desk and the library. "I knew that a supposed libertine wouldn't need a secretary or have a desk piled high with important-looking documents."

She came to an abrupt halt in front of him, her expression fierce, her gray eyes shooting sparks. "And I should have known that a rake would never ever try to seduce me whilst wearing his spectacles!"

"Elizabeth..." Gervase tried to intervene but hesitated, intrigued by the withering scorn on her face and the quickness of her deductions. He relaxed, sat back, and crossed his booted feet at the ankles. Elizabeth let out another moan, as a further revelation appeared to strike her, and resumed pacing.

"That is why your staff are so discreet and my presence here did not raise an eyebrow." She nodded as if to herself. "That is why no one waits up for you despite the fact that your rank and natural arrogance should demand it."

She clutched at her hair. "You received a message from the Foreign Office in the middle of the night and I didn't even think it odd until now."

Gervase suppressed a smile and stared down at his fingernails. "Perhaps, my dear," he suggested gently, "You were thinking of other things."

"Yes." She rounded on him. "I was so busy waiting to see if you would kiss me that I behaved like an idiot!" Her breasts rose and fell in time to her agitated breathing and Gervase cocked his head to one side to observe the effect to its fullest advantage.

"You work for the government, don't you, Your Grace, yet you masquerade as a rake." She seemed to run out of breath, then gathered herself and faced him again. "Do I have this correctly?"

"Yes, my dear, but I must stress that I enjoy both parts of my life."

He strolled over to her, took her hand in his and bent to kiss her fingers. They smelled faintly of buttered toast and he had to resist the urge to lick them clean. "It seems as if we have discovered another way you can please me." He maneuvered her toward a chair. "Do you think we might sit and discuss this rationally? I know it must be confusing for you and there are several things you need to understand."

*** *** ***

Elizabeth allowed the duke to persuade her into a chair. She used the excuse of arranging her skirts to look away and seek her composure. She had behaved like a witless debutante and missed the obvious.

With a deep, steadying breath, she turned to face him. To her dismay, he looked exactly the same. She blushed as she remembered how he looked without his shirt and reluctantly acknowledged that his remarks about enjoying his role as a rake might just be true.

The duke cleared his throat. "If we may return to our discussion about the code? I'm sure you have much more to say, but any further observations as to my character and lack of breeding can be left for another time, preferably in bed." He shrugged. "Passion can add a certain something to one's lovemaking."

Elizabeth took the hint and concentrated on the documents. "Your Grace, do you seriously believe that someone is trying to kill a member of the Royal family?"

"Yes, I do. We have known of this man,
Le Fleur
, for over a year through other channels. The message you decoded is the first that mentions him directly in conjunction with the assassination attempt."

Elizabeth reached into her pocket to retrieve her spectacles and resumed her perusal of the puzzle. "I'm glad I was able to help in this instance. But surely the person who wrote this message will alter the code when he discovers it has fallen into the wrong hands?"

"That is a possibility, but in my experience, once a code is broken, the person who broke it always stands a better chance of deciphering the new one." He paused. "You might think me mad, but I believe even the best code writers leave traces of themselves behind in the way they construct their puzzles."

Elizabeth could only nod, enthralled by this glimpse into a darker parallel world she had never known existed. "Do you wish me to look at other samples of code and try and decipher those as well?"

Her offer seemed to shake the duke out of his reverie. "If you have no objection, I will send this off to the Foreign Office and have your suppositions checked by another expert. If they prove to be accurate, I would appreciate your help in this matter."

Elizabeth gave the documents back to the duke and he hesitated.

"Elizabeth, the Foreign Office will probably offer to pay you for your services to the country." He shrugged but his gaze remained fixed on her. "I will be a pittance, but I wonder if it is not time for you to reconsider your position here."

Elizabeth sank back into her chair, her mind in disarray. Was the duke suggesting she stopped learning how to become a courtesan? Of course, he didn't know she needed a constant supply of money for Michael's care for the foreseeable future.

"I will gladly accept any money the government sees fit to pay me, but I don't think that code breaking will be enough to sustain me for the rest of my life. I would like to have another source of income."

"Are you sure, my dear? I told you the bargain could be broken."

She brought her chin up and tried to outstare him. "I would like to continue as we are, Your Grace."

He brushed at the sleeve of his coat, avoiding her gaze. "Of course, Miss Waterstone. I would be devastated if I was forced to break off your lessons at this point."

Elizabeth stood up and curtsied. "Thank you, Your Grace, I will not take up any more of your time." She hesitated, her fingers on the door handle. "Is it still acceptable for me to go and visit my mother and sister this afternoon?"

"Yes, of course. I've already asked Nicholas to accompany you. I'm sure I don't need to impress upon you the need for silence in this matter? You may spin any tale for your mother's ears that you like in order to explain your presence in my house. But on no account will you mention a word of our more unusual activities. Our national security might depend on it."

"Of course, Your Grace. Despite my recent conduct, I'm not a fool."

"Are we speaking of your recent prowess in my bed, or about your ability as a code breaker?" He tutted under his breath. "Now that you have two jobs you will have to be more specific, my dear."

An idea gleamed in Elizabeth's mind and she opened her mouth.

The duke raised his hand. "Yes, Elizabeth, before you ask, I will also pay you for your time. I'm well aware that these new duties were not part of our original contract. Thank you for pointing it out to me."

Elizabeth shut her mouth with a snap. How had he known what she intended to say? Sometimes she feared he really could read her mind. She gave him her most gracious smile as she sailed from the room and decided it was worth enduring the duke's attempts at humor. The extra income to help Michael would be more than welcome.

The handle on Elizabeth's teacup gave a betraying rattle as she placed it back in its saucer. The drawing room was as shabby as Elizabeth remembered it. She had spent many unprofitable hours trying to improve its dismal furnishings and dreary aspect. The silk wall coverings were frayed and the carpet threadbare. Unlike Elizabeth, Mrs. Forester always seemed able to ignore her surroundings and rise above her circumstances.

Mrs. Forester wore a plum-colored gown of fashionable cut and a delicate lace cap atop her guinea-fair hair. She didn't seem to have altered her attitude toward Elizabeth since they had met in the perfumery. Her gray eyes, a mirror of Elizabeth's own, held no hint of welcome.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Will Mary be joining us, mother? I've a gift for her."

The lavender water Elizabeth had chosen with such care for her mother had been tossed aside without thanks and lay forgotten on the floor.

"I sent Mary for a walk with her father." Her mother glanced at the clock. "She will be returning shortly."

When she was a little girl, Elizabeth had longed to look like her mother, but nature had blessed her with her father's more robust frame and disposition. As she grew up she had reluctantly conceded that she would never achieve the sylph-like fragility of her mother and sister.

"I wished to speak with you alone. I would have preferred it if we had dropped our acquaintance completely, but Mr. Forester," she sniffed, "Mr. Forester insisted I receive you and I'm honor-bound to obey him."

Looking at her mother's unhappy face, Elizabeth wondered if Mr. Forester had explained exactly why he was compelled to accept her presence and immediately doubted it. She sent up a fervent prayer of thanks to the duke.