The Scarlet Spy (6 page)

“Ah, but now that you are here in London, it would be a shame for you not to sample the feast of experiences that the city offers.” His gold-fringed lashes gave his gaze a cherubic look—a fact he appeared to know full well, for he let them flutter half closed for a moment before going on. “And from a purely selfish perspective, I would think it most unfair if you chose to deprive us of your lovely company.”

Something in his eyes sparked Sofia to a rather sharp reply. “Do you always flirt so outrageously with every lady you meet, Lord Osborne?”

His well-shaped brows arched in amusement. “I am afraid so. But I assure you, I am quite harmless.”

That was not the word that came suddenly to mind.
Dangerous.
Sofia could not quite explain why she felt a tingling of heat in her hands as she poured the tea. The wisps of steam seemed to whisper a warning…

Lynsley’s voice quickly drowned out any such fanciful feelings. “Yes, I will vouch for the fact that Lord Osborne has a reputation for being a perfect gentleman.”

“If I promise to behave, might I be permitted to take you for a drive in the park later this afternoon?” His glance was at the marquess rather than her. “It wouldn’t hurt to stir a bit of speculation concerning a lovely new stranger.” He added a splash of cream to his tea. “You know how Society loves to gossip. The ballroom will be abuzz with the news, and everyone will be anxious to make the contessa’s acquaintance.”

“An excellent suggestion.” Lynsley cleared his throat. “Do you feel up to the rigors of such a long day, Lady Sofia?”

She took a dainty sip of oolong before replying. “Oh, I assure you, sir, I am tougher than I look.”

“Then I may call on you a little later?” asked Osborne. “Five is the fashionable hour for promenading in the park.”

“I shall be ready, sir.”

“Excellent. I will return then.” Osborne finished his tea and rose. “Right now, I am sure the two of you would like some time alone to catch up.”

She waited until he had left the room before letting out her breath. “I may have overplayed the accent, sir. I shall do better next time.” The first performance of her new role would have been trying under any circumstances, but to have Lynsley as her audience had added an extra measure of pressure.

“You did very well, Sofia.” The marquess flashed a fatherly smile. “My advice is to relax and trust in yourself.”

“Yes, sir.” She essayed a note of ironic humor. “I suppose it helps that I have no idea who I really am. It makes being a chameleon quite easy.”

A frown furrowed his brow for an instant, but he moved on smoothly to other matters. “What was your first impression of Lord Osborne?”

Dangerous.
But as she would have felt foolish voicing such sentiment aloud, she kept her answer a bit more circumspect. “He was not quite what I expected,” she replied.

A twinkle came to his eye. “No doubt you assumed I would choose an elderly fellow like myself.”

“No! That is …” Sofia stammered as color rushed to her cheeks. “You are hardly in your dotage, sir. Marco says you still best all of our times on the equestrian obstacle course.”

Lynsley chuckled. “He knows who pays his salary.”

“It does not sound as if the rascal has need of the Academy’s money.”

“Conte della Ghiradelli was under my strict orders to keep his identity a secret.”

Sofia dropped her gaze. “I was not questioning your authority, sir. All of the Merlins know that our usefulness to our country depends on discretion and deception.”

“Among other things,” he murmured.

“But you were asking about Lord Osborne, not Lord Marco,” she went on quickly. “My comment only meant that he seems very attentive to ladies. I hope that will not prove a distraction from the duties you wish him to perform.”

“Ah, you fear his amorous attention might interfere with our plans?” Lynsley laced his hands together and looked up at the ceiling rosette. “All my information indicates that Osborne makes a point of favoring everyone with his charms. He has assiduously avoided any serious involvement with a lady, so that should not be a problem.”

Her blush grew warmer. “I was not implying that the gentleman would find me irresistible. It’s clear his flirtations are just a game. I …” She hesitated, unsure of what she meant to say. “I realize that I know nothing of Polite Society. So if you are satisfied that Osborne will do, I most certainly defer to your judgment, sir.”

“It’s merely for a matter of a fortnight or so. You will soon be established in your own right. The ladies won’t welcome a new beauty to their ranks, but they will not dare withhold their invitations, fearing that another hostess will have you—and all the gentlemen under sixty—gracing her ballroom.” The marquess paused, his expression taking a more serious slant as he dropped his gaze from the decorative detailing. “Do not underestimate your own charms, Sofia. Men
will
find your beauty irresistible. And as a widow, you will be considered fair game. It will take a good deal of prowess to play along and turn their lust to your own advantage. The mission depends on your skill.”

“The class in seduction came right before self-defense,” she quipped. “I can handle myself in a duel of wits or steel.”

“If I did not sincerely believe that, you would not be here.”

“Thank you, sir.” The marquess was right. She wasn’t going to need Osborne for very long. Which was probably for the best in light of her odd reaction to his presence. “Mrs. Merlin mentioned you might have a few more things to add to her explanations.”

“Just one key element.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and slowly unrolled its folds. “This was found hidden in the binding of Lord Robert’s diary.”

Sofia studied the details of the key and its distinctive scarlet poppy for several moments before speaking. “The goldwork and enameling look to have been crafted in Venice,” she said slowly, glad to discover that the long hours of art history classes could be put to practical use. “Have you any idea what it’s for?”

“That’s part of your assignment, Sofia. I suspect it is part of a set, but it’s up to you to discover what it’s for and who else might possess similar ones.”

She was beginning to understand why the marquess considered this such a difficult mission.

The shadows beneath his eyes seemed deeper, darker than just a few days ago. “Having second thoughts?” he said softly.

“Not at all, sir. A Merlin rises to any challenge.”

Her bravado brought a ghost of a smile to his face. “I appreciate your courage, but be careful how you unfold your wings, Sofia. London is home to many dangerous predators.” Rising, he tucked the silk square back in his coat but handed her the key. “It might prove useful, so you keep it.”

Its ornate teeth looked rather menacing against her palm.

“After tonight, we will not be seen together in public. The Scarlet Knights must think the connection between us is a distant one at best. I won’t really be traveling, but neither will I be making any appearance in Society. You may send word to me through Rose when you have something substantive to report. Otherwise, you are on your own.”

“Don’t worry, sir. If I have to probe every lock in London, I will discover what secrets this pretty poppy guards.”

“Rotten Row? What a very odd name.”

“It’s said to derive from the French
Route de Roi,
or King’s Road. King William III had the avenue built in 1690, in order to have a safe way to travel between St. James’s Palace and his new court at Kensington Palace.” Osborne shifted the reins of his phaeton to return a greeting from the dowager Duchess of Canfield and her party. “At night, it was lit by three hundred oil lamps—”

“Osborne!” A wave of lace fluttered up from a quartet of ladies strolling beside the crush of carriages. “You must
promise
to attend my musicale. The tenor is from Milan and is said to have the voice of an angel. But as your taste in music is divine, I must of course hear
your
opinion.”

“You may count on my presence, Lady Caroline.” He drew his team to a halt. “However, I imagine Contessa della Silveri, who has just this week arrived from the Continent, would have a more expert opinion on Italian singers. Allow me to introduce you and your friends.”

The lady did not look overly enthusiastic at the prospect. Her smile froze, and she greeted Sofia with a chilly politeness and ice in her eyes. It took several more pointed hints before an invitation to the musicale was grudgingly given.

As for Lady Caroline’s companions … Osborne allowed a harried inward chuckle. He did not know how females managed to defy the laws of physics by appearing to be looking down their noses when observing someone high above their heads.

His gentlemen acquaintances showed a decidedly warmer response to the presence of a new face in the crowd. The high-perch phaeton was quickly surrounded by riders eager to get a closer glimpse of the features beneath the poke brim bonnet.

“You seem to know a great many people, Lord Osborne,” said Sofia as the crowd of well-wishers finally thinned.

“It may seem as if all of London takes a turn down this pathway, but in truth, the
ton
is a very small world.” He guided his team around a lumbering barouche. “Surely you must be acquainted with some people in Town.”

“No, not a soul, save Lord Lynsley.”

“The marquess mentioned your father was English. Will you not seek some contact with this family?”

“No.” Her voice was clipped, cold.

“The expatriate community in Rome is quite large, though. No doubt some friends of your parents would be delighted to hear you are in London.”

“My parents did not socialize much.”

Clearing his throat, Osborne tried another topic of conversation. “Your English is impeccable, Contessa. Lynsley mentioned having recommended the school you attended—it appears you were subject to a rigorous training in the language.”

“The Academy’s curriculum demanded that its students become proficient in a number of disciplines.”

“It sounds awfully strict.” He smiled, hoping to encourage her to relax a little.

“Yes, it was,” she replied with rigid correctness.

“All work and no play? And here I thought Eton was tough on its charges.” He gave a light laugh. “What was the name of this institution of learning?”

“I am sure you have never heard of it, Lord Osborne.” Her tone signaled an end to the subject.

Leaving off his questions, Osborne maneuvered through the crush of carriages and turned homeward, using the stretch of silence to regroup his thoughts. He was rarely at a loss for words, especially with women, but the contessa was proving devilishly difficult to converse with. Clearly her past was an uncomfortable subject.

It was strange, but he sensed a tenseness to her that seemed more than mere shyness. Her gaze was wary, watchful of everything around her.

There was definitely more to all this than met the eye.

His sidelong glance lingered for a moment on her profile. Not that he minded the view. Lynsley’s description had not done the lady justice. She was not merely lovely—she was absolutely stunning. Raven-dark hair, thick and lustrous as polished ebony, curled around her face. Unlike English ladies, she had allowed the sun to color her complexion to a light tan. Unfashionable perhaps, but the effect was entrancing. The green of her eyes seemed even more intense, and the kiss of bronze seemed to make all her features come gloriously alive. The angled slant of her cheekbones, the pert tilt of her nose, the lushness of her lips—everything about her was sculpted in strong relief.

Maybe too strong by conventional standards.
Yet, next to Contessa Sofia Constanza Bigham della Silveri, the milk-and-water London beauties paled in comparison. Osborne felt his mouth quirk. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if tanned cheeks became all the rage for the coming season.

Seeing that her eyes were intent on something up ahead, he reluctantly let his own gaze follow hers.

“Are you interested in horses, Contessa?” he asked, noting that she was studying a sleek silver-gray stallion being put through his paces along the Serpentine. “Grafton’s mount is a splendid animal, is it not?”

“Well-muscled, but there is a slight hitch to his gait.” She watched until horse and rider disappeared around the bend. “Are ladies allowed to ride in the park?”

Ah, finally, a slight unbending of her spine.
“In a manner of speaking. You are permitted a sedate walk, but a gallop is frowned upon.”

Sofia looked slightly disappointed. “London Society certainly has a great many rules governing what a female can and cannot do. Still, it will be pleasant to get a bit of fresh air and exercise.”

“Have you arranged for a saddle horse while you are here? I should be happy to have a look at Tattersall’s for you. Unfortunately, it is yet another rule that ladies are not allowed to attend the auctions. However, I am accorded to be a good judge of horseflesh. You have only to tell me what qualities you are looking for and I’ll find you a prime animal.”

“Thank you, sir.” She resumed her expression of formal politeness. “That won’t be necessary. Lord Lynsley has already taken care of the matter.”

“Then perhaps you would allow me to show you the best bridle paths. Some parts of the park are a bit rough for a lady.”

“I tend to ride quite early, sir. As for the paths, I’ve ridden under far rougher conditions than these.”

Damn, the lady seemed determined to keep him at a distance.

Though his jaw tightened, Osborne maintained a smile in the face of the obvious rebuff. He was not so vain as to think that every female in Christendom was longing to throw herself at his feet. But nor did he expect to have his pleasantries hurled back in his face. Did she think him naught but a flirt and a fribble?

Fisting the reins, he silently guided his team through several tight turns. It was only when the Stanhope Gate came into view that he spoke. “Is there a reason you have taken a dislike to me, Contessa?”

He saw a flare of emotion in her eyes before she looked away. “I fear, sir, that you misunderstand my English.”