Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies] (2 page)

Charlie set his pipe down and stood to pace to the fireplace. “Any manner of information could have been transferred in such a way. There have been rumblings about traitorous counterspies utilizing such covert methods. Whatever it was, it was sensitive enough that those involved wanted to do it surreptitiously.”

Meredith nodded. Her heart throbbed, but not with the normal anticipation that preceded the beginning of a case. This emotion was not the thrill of discovery or the excitement of formulating a detailed plan of attack.

It was dread.

“Why do you suspect Tristan Archer?” she asked softly.

Charles cocked his head at her tone. “We did not choose Carmichael for our pleasure, Meredith. In fact, Lady M’s first reaction was as shocked as your own. The man has never shown himself to be anything less than gentlemanly. But Genevieve says the day after he sold the painting, Carmichael came to the art house offering an exorbitant amount of money for the piece.”

Emily arched a brow. “And Genevieve wouldn’t sell?”

Charlie shook his head. “He refused to renege on the prior bargain he made. Apparently, Lord Carmichael grew very angry and stormed out of the auction house.”

Meredith’s heart sank. “What more is there?”

“Witnesses saw a carriage bearing the Carmichael crest departing the auction house the night of the robbery. When other investigators questioned his lordship about his whereabouts, he was quite uncooperative and ultimately gave us an alibi that was later proven false. Worse, he has been keeping very bad company of late. There is no getting around it. Carmichael has something to hide. An investigation is in order.”

Meredith straightened her shoulders. Duty. She had to remember her duty. She’d sworn an oath and she could not break it. Not for anyone. Not
even the man who had saved her life on a dark night long ago.

“Yes, Charlie. Of course.”

He nodded. “Carmichael is hosting a ball tomorrow evening. I’ve obtained an invitation for both you and Emily. While she conducts a quick search of the home, you’ll reacquaint yourself with the Marquis and determine your next action.”

Charlie took the velvet box containing the necklace Meredith had recovered and long forgotten. With a smile for the three women, he said, “Meanwhile, I’ll send over a list of Carmichael’s associates for Ana to research. I know you three will discover the truth and intercept any transfer of valuable information. Now, if you will excuse me, I must deliver this to the Watch. Good day, ladies.”

Emily and Ana responded, “Good afternoon, Charles.”

Meredith couldn’t bring herself to answer as she paced to the window and looked outside.

Emily took a few steps forward as Charles left. “Merry, how do you know Carmichael? You’ve never spoken about him, yet it’s clear this assignment and the possibility that his lordship is a traitor upsets you greatly.”

Ana nodded as Meredith turned to face her two friends. Emily’s blue eyes were focused on her with an intensity she usually reserved for target practice, and Ana had removed her spectacles.
Meredith’s stomach clenched. Her sister spies knew her far too well for comfort at times.

“Even Charlie could see you were conflicted,” Ana said. “Who
is
Tristan Archer to you?”

Meredith utilized her training to cover the tangled emotions that burned within her. “Lord Carmichael was a friend of my cousin’s when I was a girl, nothing more.”

Ana’s forehead scrunched and Emily opened her mouth to speak, but Meredith rushed on, “If we are attending a ball tomorrow, I have arrangements to make, and so do you, Emily.”

“But—” Emily began, her icy blue eyes watching Meredith’s every move with rising suspicion.

Meredith needed to get out of the house before Emily and Ana wrestled the truth from her. The truth she wasn’t ready to think about, let alone speak.

“Good afternoon,” she called over her shoulder as she fled into the foyer, hands trembling. She nodded to the butler as she left, then climbed into her waiting carriage. But once inside, her emotions rushed back, flutterings around her heart that she was normally able to distance herself from. And they were so very, very dangerous. Because the last thing she needed was to feel some kind of tenderness for a man.

Especially one who could turn out to be the worst kind of traitor.

A
s Meredith passed through the massive mahogany doors into Lord Carmichael’s ballroom, her stomach flipped. With a scowl, she willed herself to calm down. What was she so upset about? If Tristan really was a traitor, the fact that she once found him dashing and handsome did not signify. Nor did the fact that he’d saved her life then avoided her like she was cursed afterward.

She was a spy, damn it! And a good one at that. She couldn’t let silly remembered emotions cloud her judgment.

She cast a side glance at Emily. Her friend was smiling sweetly, but she scanned the crowd with
focused intent. It was difficult to make out any one person of interest in the jammed ballroom. She hadn’t seen such a crush in a while, but late Season gatherings were often the busiest.

“Ana gave you the list of people to look for?” Meredith asked as she flipped her fan open and waved it slowly to circulate the stifling air around her face. Only she and Emily knew a knife blade was hidden within the handle, ready to be released with the slightest press of a hidden mechanism. The fan was courtesy of Ana’s inventive mind.

“Yes,” Emily said as they moved forward. “It’s too bad we can never coax her into the field. Her intellect is stunning.”

Meredith nodded. Ana was a master code maker and breaker, inventor of most of the special weapons and items they used in the field. But she claimed to prefer working in the office to putting her life in immediate danger. Meredith couldn’t imagine finding comfort behind a desk, deciphering information others retrieved. No, she lived for the thrill of the chase, the heat of the hunt, and the slow piecing together of evidence in order to determine a suspect’s guilt or innocence.

“There are so many people; it’s going to be difficult to determine who our targets are.” Meredith sighed.

She glanced over the crowd a second time, pausing to wave at a few friends as she slipped on
the mask of favorite widow of the
ton.
Being popular and sought after gave her entry to locations crucial to their cause.

Emily made a subtle gesture at the crowd. “There is Lord Carmichael now. This is the perfect time for you to renew your acquaintance, don’t you agree?”

Meredith turned in the direction Emily indicated and sucked in her breath. Indeed, Tristan did stand a stone’s throw away, leaning on a pillar. At present he was alone.

She drank in the sight of him. He was as dashing as ever, dark and handsome like the images that sometimes still haunted her dreams. But this was no vision. Tristan’s green eyes flitted up from time to time as he looked at the crowd around him or acknowledged a friend. They pierced even from a distance.

He pushed a strand of dark, slightly too long hair away from his eyes before he took a sip of his drink and turned away. She shivered. How could he be even more handsome after all these intervening years?

“Merry?” Emily hissed.

She shook away her distraction. “Yes, this is the perfect time, I agree.” She glanced at the grandfather clock beside the ballroom’s double doors. “Let’s meet on the terrace in three-quarters of an hour.”

“That should give me more than enough time
to make my first search. Be careful.” Emily slipped into the crowd, disappearing in a wash of colorful gowns and laughing people.

Drawing a deep breath, Meredith refocused on Tristan. He smiled as he said a few words to a passing servant, and her heart lurched as she remembered, once again, his kindness to her as a child. She didn’t want to believe he could be a vile betrayer, despite the evidence of his involvement in the plot to steal the painting. But if he was implicated in one aspect of that crime, she had to assume he was aware of its underlying motive.

But there was only one way to determine the truth. With a shaky smile, she headed in his direction.

Her case had officially begun.

Tristan Archer sipped his drink, but the sharp burn of alcohol did nothing to quell his uneasiness. He couldn’t recollect a time when he actually enjoyed a party like this. Even long before his life grew complicated, he hadn’t taken pleasure in the frivolous gaiety and social backstabbing that flew at him from every corner. He could easily spend a night talking to a hundred people and not recall having an interesting or meaningful conversation with one of them.

He would have ceased hosting such events and cut down on his attendance if he had a choice in the matter. But a man of rank was expected to
host soirees like this one. It was one of the things his father had ground into him during unending lectures about how he was expected to behave once he was Marquis. Even now, after all these years, he could still hear his father’s voice. It echoed in his ears so often.

Even if he hadn’t been doing his best to live up to his familial expectations, he wouldn’t have been able to escape social interaction. These parties had also become his link to unappealing, but unfortunately necessary, elements.

With a sigh, he lifted his glance and found himself staring at Meredith Sinclair. His heart began to race like he’d run a league, just as it always had. She was coming toward him, steering through the chattering crowd with the wide smile that was her most charming attribute. He’d seen it countless times over the years in ballrooms and drawing rooms all over London, but the expression hadn’t been pointed in his direction for a very long time. That was his own fault, of course. He had done his best to avoid contact with her over the years.

There was no doubt her smile drew people to her. While most women of their circle hid behind fans and handkerchiefs and demure turns of their heads, Meredith put her soul into her smile. It was inappropriately wide and honest and often flashed at times when most in the
ton
wouldn’t dare show amusement.

And now she stopped in front of him, her face open and filled with a light he’d almost forgotten existed. He fought to draw breath against a swell of unexpected emotion and desire as he acknowledged her with a wordless nod.

“Good evening, Lord Carmichael,” she said with a little curtsey. After he returned an awkward bow of his own, she continued, “You must forgive my impertinence at approaching you without a formal introduction, but I could not wait to congratulate you on a most excellent party.”

He blinked. Party? Oh yes, the buzzing annoyance he had all but forgotten. Of course
she
would enjoy it, as she was his polar opposite. Meredith had always been very popular, but even more so since she’d come out of mourning for her late husband.

He remembered his manners with difficulty and returned her smile with a rusty one of his own. He hadn’t utilized it for so long that it felt strange. He could only hope he didn’t look as ghoulish as he felt.

He cleared his throat. “No apology necessary, my lady. After all, we do know each other, don’t we? There is no need for a formal introduction between old friends.”

As soon as he said the words, he longed to retrieve them. After such a long time, she probably didn’t recall their brief acquaintance as children, or even the one dark night of near tragedy they
shared. The muscle in his jaw popped with the long buried memory, but he shook away the anger that still accompanied thoughts of that evening. Those powerful reactions were exactly why he had fought so hard to stay away from Meredith.

Her face softened and her smile faded with memory. “Oh, that was a long time ago, wasn’t it? I wasn’t sure you remembered. Certainly, we’ve not spoken since—” She broke off, and for a moment he saw powerful emotions in her eyes. “—since you last came to my aunt and uncle’s estate,” she finished with a benign smile that wiped away any earlier reaction.

He dipped his chin. Memories of those carefree days were bittersweet. He had no real responsibilities then, fewer expectations. And no secrets. If only he had realized the prison his life would soon become, he might have savored his youth more.

He couldn’t help thinking of Meredith in those days. She had seemed so alone as she followed him at every turn. She even played along as his pirate hostage, dead body, and army private. “Of course I remember, Lady Northam. You were a good sport.”

She laughed, but despite the melodious beauty of the sound, he saw very little joy deep in her eyes. Beauty, yes. But that had been a constant even when she was a young woman. The last time he visited her cousin before they went to school, he took note of the changes in her. How her eyes
had a certain light that intrigued him. Her smile, which she rarely flashed during those days, captivated him.

The night he discovered her alone in a run-down pub, just a year after that final visit, it was clear other men noticed her blossoming beauty as well. She was under attack when he found her, in the arms of a brute who would take whatever she was unwilling to give. Seeing her like that, tears streaming down her face as she pleaded to be released, had incited such a rage in him that he’d nearly killed the bastard who dared touch her. He’d forgotten everything else, every duty he held to his family, every inch of control his father demanded of him…and let emotion rule. When he came to his senses later, he knew he could never let himself go like that again. And that meant avoiding Meredith Sinclair. Avoiding the one person who had ever made him feel so powerfully. He had pushed her away, returned to his responsibilities.

It had been damned near impossible to shut her out of his life. Thoughts of her tormented him. He’d even sought her out once more, after she came of age, but she had already married. And that was for the best. It was better to simply see her from a distance at occasional parties, but avoid getting too close.

With a start, he realized she was speaking to him, and attended to her with more focus.

“I am not sure
you
weren’t the good sport as a
child, my lord. I think I must have tormented you with my constant questions and presence.”

“You were never an annoyance,” he said softly.

She blushed, just a tinge of pink that made her creamy skin warm. Is that what she would do if he dared kiss her? The unbidden thought gave him a powerful start. Where had that image come from?

“I’m glad your memory is so poor,” she laughed. “I must say, you were my favorite of my cousins’ friends. How have you been? I heard of your father’s death five years past, and your younger brother’s passing more recently. I was sorry to hear of them both.”

He nodded, but he was hardly listening. He could only watch her lips form words. Such tempting lips, they were, indeed.

“My lord?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

He started. “I’m sorry, my lady. Thank you for your kind words regarding both my losses.”

“I imagine they must have given you an increased responsibility. And at such a young age,” she continued.

He winced. She was being kind, but she had no idea how deeply her words cut. They hit close to the bone. In places he tried to ignore, but that always came to the surface.

He had to wonder, as he always did when these subjects came up: What would his life have been like if he didn’t have those never-ending responsibilities?

What if he didn’t have such ugly secrets?

He shook away the thought as he straightened his shoulders. He
did
have both those things. And that was why it was better to walk away from the woman before him, rather than lament what he could not have, even if Meredith was now a widow and unattached.

With a second bow he said, “It was a pleasure talking to you again, my lady. I hope you enjoy the rest of the party. Excuse me.”

Meredith’s lips parted in surprise at his sudden dismissal. It took all Tristan’s willpower to turn on his heel and walk away. After a few steps, he allowed himself a last glance over his shoulder. Through the crowd, he saw that she remained in the same spot, eyes wide and fists clenched at her sides.

He sighed as he forced himself to look away. Meredith was a beauty, but she was forbidden fruit. Now more than ever, he couldn’t let his emotions rule him as they always did when he got near her. He had to set his renewed attraction aside. The matters that currently dominated his life were far too important and dangerous to allow even the most pleasant diversion.

Meredith watched Tristan disappear into the teeming crowd, and was pulled by two opposing reactions to their brief encounter, each as strong as the other.

Though they had only exchanged a few brief words, she had enjoyed their time together enormously. Normally, she found these parties boring, despite her false laughter and popularity.

With Tristan, even their benign chatter stuck out in her mind. There was a connection there. A bond that had little to do with their reminiscence over the past. Beneath the casual words they exchanged lay a deeper emotion.

Under any other circumstances, she would have allowed herself to hope they would meet again. That they could continue their dialogue another night. Her desire to delve deeper into her attraction to the man terrified her.

Especially since her second reaction to their conversation was equally powerful.

Tristan Archer was hiding something. His behavior had been…
off
somehow. He smiled and nodded and said the right things, but in his eyes she saw a flash of desperation. A glint of the emotion that almost always existed in culprits she pursued. Men with secrets were rarely happy and could seldom allow themselves to be at ease, even with those they knew and cared for.

The moment she delved into the realm of his private life, Tristan had thrown manners to the wind and hurried away. It could have been grief that caused him to flee her questions, but she hadn’t seen sorrow in his eyes at the memories she evoked.

She’d seen grim resolve. A hard gleam that said he had no intention of discussing anything that could remotely relate to his true self or the secrets he so desperately wished to hide from the world.

Her heart sank.

With a harsh sigh, she straightened her shoulders and began to make her way through the crowd. Emily would meet with her in less than a quarter of an hour. In that time, she needed to eliminate any emotion from her face. Her friend would surely see her regrets and fears if they still existed. And Emily was already like a hound on the scent of a fox when it came to the relationship she had once shared with Tristan.