The Pretender (27 page)

Read The Pretender Online

Authors: Celeste Bradley

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency

BOOK: The Pretender
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"I'm growing annoyed again."

"Agatha, we have to address what happened. What I did to you—"

"What
you
did to me? Unbelievable. Who undressed you? I did. For that matter, who undressed me?
I
did! I knew precisely what I was doing!" She tried to glare at him, but her vision was just a bit blurred. "I simply thought I was doing it with someone else."

"So did I."

True. He'd thought her a woman of low virtue, a ladybird who spent her lover's money freely and took strange men into her home. For the first time, Agatha realized how she must have seemed to him.

So many things that she had said and done had only reinforced his impression. It was almost as if she had lied without intention.

"I know. But I never said I was a mistress. I thought you knew that Jamie was my brother."

He sat there, tracing a design on the table in her slopped tea. "I see. But the fact remains that I ruined you."

"Ruined me? You forget, I was a married woman. I am now a widow. It would seem odd to the next man if I were still virgin."

His head lifted abruptly and he fixed his gaze on her. She'd never known blue eyes could burn so hot.

"What next man?"

He needn't act so surprised, as if she could not find another man if she wished. "I'll have you know I have a standing offer of marriage."

"From whom?" The words were shot from his lips like bullets.

Agatha leaned back a bit in her chair. This was a new Simon. Suddenly she could very easily see him leading a band of spies and assassins.

She didn't want to answer the question. She'd only mentioned the standing offer to bait him. Now she wasn't sure she wanted this particular beast released.

"Agatha?"

She sighed. "Reginald."

"Reginald who?"

"Reginald Peasley, my neighbor to the west of Appleby."

"Repulsive Reggie?"

The slight slopping became a flood of tea on the table when Simon jolted her cup awry as he sprang to his feet.

"You can
not
—I won't allow—"

Agatha only gazed up at him. "There is nothing you could do to stop me, Simon. I am of age, and may marry where I wish."

He twitched at that, and Agatha got the impression of darkness barely held in check. Pain arced through her at his possessiveness. What did it matter who she married? They both knew it would not be him.

She desperately wanted him to leave now.

"Do you really want to know why I killed Mortimer? To set you free. Jamie explained who you are. I
cannot
marry you even should you ask, for you are too vital to the security of England. I will not rob her of you, dear as you are to me."

The weariness returned and settled between her shoulders and into her brain, booming like cannon fire. She rose shakily to face him, leaning her fingertips on the table for support.

"Don't worry. I'll not marry Reggie, either, though Jamie might wish me to. He'd like to keep me close to Appleby, I think, and he doesn't… he doesn't know."

She walked past him, balancing her aching head carefully on her shoulders. At the swinging doors she turned. "Not that it matters really, but I'll have no dearth of beaux once I let on how wealthy I am. Perhaps I'll pick one of them."

"But James—"

"Jamie was given Appleby, of course. He's welcome to it, for I seem to have had my fill of sheep and apples. It was a lovely place to be a child, but I'm not a child. London is more to my taste now."

She managed a brief smile. "However, I was given half the funds. I believe it now rounds out to about twenty thousand pounds. So please, feel free to let any obligation die with Mortimer. I don't need either of you any longer."

James shifted restlessly in his bed and put down the book he was reading. Although his current prison was a comfortable one, he could see that it was only a matter of time before he was going to want to escape from it as well.

Here it was, mid-afternoon, yet he had been put to bed like a weanling. Agatha had even come in a few moments ago and tucked him in!

He had protested under the guise of teasing, but she'd been in no mood for it. He'd asked if she wanted to stay and play a hand of cards, but she'd declined, claiming the headache.

He could hardly blame her for that. The hen chatter from her callers had resounded all the way upstairs. James had the distinct feeling that Agatha was regretting her rash vengeance, but she'd never admit it.

The tap on the door was a welcome relief from his boredom, and James gladly called out for the visitor to come in.

Simon was the last person he'd expected to see.

"You're looking much improved, James."

"For a traitor, you mean."

With a raised brow, Simon reminded him that there had been every reason to suspect him.

"Come now, Simon. You
know
me."

"I wanted to trust you, but I also wanted to find out how so many of our identities were uncovered."

The knife of guilt went deep, and James had to look away. "How many were lost?"

"James, it's not—"

But it was. He'd been careless. He hadn't bothered to hide his path, or to take alternate routes every evening to see his mistress. As if his lust had been a separate thing from his life as an operative.

He'd been a fool. Too busy thinking about the woman he had just left to be aware of being followed. Too sotted with wine and erotic delights to fight them off when they'd attacked from the shadows.
"How many?"

"Five, if you count Ren Porter."

"Why wouldn't you count him?"

"Head injury. There's no telling if he'll ever open his eyes. And if he does, we don't know if he'll be himself, or just another brain-shot veteran."

"God. Poor Ren."

"We've never had all the men we've needed. We've certainly never had enough specialists. We're now down to two pickpockets, one knife man, four scouts, three rooftop men, and one saboteur, without you."

"And I'm a bloody partridge in a pear tree, stuck under house arrest."

"The irony is that the club is bringing in more profit than ever. We could afford to support many more missions, had we only the men to cover them."

"That's perfect. For once we've no need to beg funds from the War Office, and we cannot even use it."

"It's all thanks to Jackham really. He simply can't help making money, for himself and all of us."

Simon set one hip on the arm of the chair by the fire. "Quite different from when I first began. Did I ever tell you that the first few missions I ran for the Old Man fell under the classification of 'Acquisitions'?"

"No, what—you're joking! You funded the club with housebreaking?"

"Only from the most deserving, I assure you. We kept a file of the sinners and the charlatans, and we never completely cleaned anyone out. Not of anything they'd have been willing to report, at any rate."

James laughed, then he sobered once more. "You came to talk about Agatha, didn't you?"

"I came to talk about everything. I'll need your full report, as much as you can remember of what you were asked under the opiates. As well as what you learned on your escape."

Simon stood and walked to stand before the fire. He gazed down at the carpet, his face turned so James could not see his expression.

"And about Agatha," prompted James.

"Yes. About Agatha." Simon's voice was flat.

"You've done a terrible thing to her, Simon."

Simon turned, his face dark with anger. "Do you think I don't know that?"

"We've never used the tactic of seduction before. You said that it was unreliable. That there were better ways, that the seducer often became the seduced."

"I still feel that way."

"Then what happened?"

Simon gave a rueful bark of laughter. "You said it yourself. The seducer became seduced."

James couldn't help his surprise. He'd never dreamed it would be this easy. "You admit it then? You're attached to her?"

"Madly."

"But that's wonderful! She's mad for you as well."

"James, she knows I cannot marry. She refused me before I ever asked."

James knew he would have to tread carefully here. "Simon, I've never been entirely convinced of your reasoning on this. A man needn't walk away from a life of his own to still be loyal to his country."

"You may marry if you wish. All the Liars may. It is a decision that every man must make for himself. I made my decision years ago."

"But why?"

"James, you are my friend. But even friends must toe a line. Don't overstep."

James scowled. "Well, you bloody well overstepped with my sister! I know why you did what you did, but make no mistake, Simon. I am not happy about it."

"Yes, I did overstep. I thought she was a woman without boundaries, a woman that I could have without tying her to daily danger as my wife. Family ties are the ties that kill, at least in our profession."

James was horrified. "Then she is already in danger because she is my sister."

"Of course. You must have known that all along, James. Else why did you never mention her, even to me? Why did you leave her isolated in the country, safe at Appleby?"

It was true. James had not done it consciously, but he had most certainly kept his own counsel on the subject of Agatha.

"Great lot of good that did me. If I'd told you, none of this would have happened."

"True. But as always, that could apply to a myriad of small actions. Had you never joined the Liars, had you never taken that last mission… One could go on for hours. What's done is done, James."

"Yes. The question is, what do we do next?"

"I've decided that Agatha needs protection. You're in no condition yet, and I've already achieved an acceptable cover as Mortimer's brother."

James grinned. "So I've heard,
Ethelbert
."

Simon grimaced. "She has a lawless streak, your sister."

"Oh, yes. A rather wide one."

"The fact is, James, I'm moving back here to Carriage Square. Indefinitely."

"In this house? What about Agatha's reputation? Don't you think you've done enough damage? Even a widow cannot reside with only her brother-in-law, not at her age."

"Until the day Agatha says 'I will' to another man, she is mine to protect. And I can't very well protect her from halfway across the city, can I?" His tone was remote, as if it was simply business.

James still had doubts. It was a risk. "Wouldn't she be safer back in Appleby?"

Standing with his hands braced on the mantel, Simon seemed to hesitate. "She doesn't think so." Simon turned back. "I'll lie low. The outside world will never know I'm staying on, any more than they know that you are here. I'll be in evidence when callers come, and I'll leave very obviously every evening."

James narrowed his eyes. "You simply like climbing walls."

Simon smiled. "That I do. But with the two of us here, she'll be as safe as anyone is in London. I can accompany her if she goes out, and when you are better, we can trade the night watch."

James folded his arms. "Oh, I'll be watching you come nightfall, Simon. Never fear."

"I've no intention of carrying on with Agatha, James," Simon said stiffly.

"I'm sure. But I'll keep my eyes open, just the same."

Let Simon spout that rot about "killing ties" after living with Agatha for a while. If he was not mistaken, his sister still wanted Simon, and what Agatha wanted, Agatha usually got. James eyed his friend, debating whether he should warn him.

No. He wasn't quite over his anger. Let the bounder suffer.

Chapter Eighteen

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