When Alice began to lag behind, Eve feared the day had become too tiring for her. Eve stopped on the walkway to suggest they find a hack only to discover Alice craning to peer through the windows of a town house as she passed.
Eve grinned. Her maid had a reputation as a busybody among the other staff at Thorne Place, and it seemed rightly earned.
Ben had stopped when Eve did and was waiting. “Is everything all right? Should I hail a ride?”
Eve shook her head. She suspected Alice would deny being tired if asked, for it would mean less snooping on the neighbors. Eve linked her arm with Ben’s, and they resumed their leisurely pace. “Amelia said you visited the foundling hospital again,” she said. “Did you return to the nursery?”
“I did. I hadn’t expected the experience to be as rewarding as it has been, and after speaking with several board members, I believe I could do more.”
“Oh? What do you have in mind?”
“Apprenticeships at Hillary Shipping for the young men. It is not easy, the life of a seaman, but neither is being a soldier in the army, which is where many end up.”
“What a splendid idea. The work may be hard, but imagine all they would see sailing around the world.” Of course, Ben didn’t have to imagine. He had sailed many times with his grandfather as a young man and visited places she could only dream of seeing. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to leave England. Sometimes I question why I had to be born a lady.”
“For what it is worth, I am grateful you are a lady,” he said with a wink. “Nevertheless, your sex shouldn’t be a barrier to travel. Many ladies brave the unsavory conditions found onboard ship for the chance to see the world.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps their lives are different from mine. I expect a quiet life in the country is in my future, but I do not mind.” Too much.
In actuality, living in the country wasn’t a problem for her, but she didn’t want to be there alone. She longed to have a husband by her side. She had seen how lonely Mama’s life had been married to Papa. When he barricaded himself in his chambers and refused to let anyone inside, it was no different from deserting them in Eve’s mind.
She had vowed to never marry a man like her father, and yet it appeared she was following her mother’s example. Jonathan would abandon his wife and children just as her father had abandoned Mama, Sebastian, and her.
Ben slanted a frown in her direction. “I wouldn’t have pegged Hackberry for a gentleman farmer. He does not strike me as a man content to remain in one place for long.”
“He isn’t, but unfortunately he doesn’t intend to take me with him on his adventures.”
Ben came to a sudden stop, interrupting her progress as well. He turned to face her. “Did he say he intended to leave you behind?” His incredulous tone vindicated her hurt feelings. For a time, she had worried she was being unreasonable.
“He said it would be too dangerous.” Jonathan had also sworn he didn’t want to leave her, but she couldn’t believe he intended to give up his pursuits either.
“Too dangerous? Balderdash.” Fire burned in Ben’s blue eyes. “Where do you want to go? Make a list. I will take you anywhere you like.”
Eve’s heart gave a tiny leap before reality set in. Ben wouldn’t be taking her anywhere. She was engaged to another man. “What is this?” She wagged her finger back and forth between them. “Why are you offering to show me the world? Why has my betrothed burdened you with escorting me home? None of this makes sense.”
“You are not a burden, Evie.”
“Maybe not to you, but clearly Sir Jonathan thinks I am.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it was true. Something had happened between her and Jonathan over the last week. Something that should have distressed her, but instead caused a tiny spark of hope inside her to flicker to life. If Jonathan didn’t want her anymore, perhaps her future was not cast in stone after all.
* * *
Jonathan paced the floors of Viscount Margrave’s study; his bootfalls grew muffled when he reached the carpet. He hadn’t been kept waiting very long, but any delay was unacceptable. Finally, the polished oak door swung inward with no sound. The well-oiled hinges of the viscount’s door were a testament to his attention to detail. It had probably kept him alive all this time as a spy for the Regent’s Consul.
“We were followed today,” Jonathan blurted before Margrave could greet him.
The viscount sighed and sauntered to the sideboard to pour a drink. Margrave’s training showed in the way he moved, like a large and dangerous cat on the prowl. “I told you, Armstrong is harmless. Ben won’t keep the investigator on a retainer long if there is nothing to report, so continue to do nothing suspicious and the matter will take care of itself.”
“It wasn’t your friend’s man, and I do not think you heard me correctly. We were followed. Miss Thorne, her maid, and me. Then again after the lecture.”
“This isn’t good.” Margrave frowned before taking a sip of his drink.
“Really? You think it is a bad sign?” Jonathan rarely resorted to sarcasm to make a point, but this situation called for it. In fact, it called for a brandy. Or scotch. He wasn’t fussy. Moving to the sideboard, he poured a drink for himself since the viscount hadn’t volunteered to do it.
Margrave leaned an elbow against the sideboard, studying him with that unnerving intensity he had. “Do you know who followed you?”
“I didn’t recognize the man, but he was not very accomplished. Miss Thorne spotted him with no difficulty. It’s hard to believe he would be a member of the Home Office.”
Occasionally, the Home Office mistook the group of elite spies, of which Jonathan was a member, for enemies, and even though the HO agents did not pose much threat to the Consul, they were not bunglers.
“I almost came to fisticuffs with a couple of soldiers today, thanks to the man’s ineptitude.” Admittedly, Jonathan’s attempt to distract Miss Thorne would not go down in history as his most brilliant move. “I had to invoke the code word for submission. Otherwise, it came down to ruining my cover or taking a beating.”
“Mangold.” The viscount chuckled and sipped his drink.
A mangold beet was a member of the Beta plant genus. Beta was the second letter in the Greek alphabet, below Alpha. In the world of soldiers and spies, a beta was of a lower rank and expected to obey his superior. “Miss Thorne looked at me as if I belong in Bedlam,” Jonathan said.
“Of course she did. What sane man shouts out random vegetables? If she was even familiar with the term.”
“Unfortunately, she was.” Heat seared his face and he moved away from his colleague before he made note of the blushing. The Prince and his cronies must have been foxed when they created their ridiculous codes.
“Huh.” Margrave moved to a chair adjacent to the unlit fireplace and dropped into it. “Ben didn’t say anything about hiring another man, but I agree he couldn’t be from the Home Office if he was detected with no trouble.”
Unless someone wanted to prove Jonathan was an easier target when he was out in Society. The night of his and Eve’s betrothal ball, Farrin, his commander, had sent three men to waylay him in Covent Garden. They received their fair share of lumps in the process of surprising him, but Farrin’s message was delivered. Jonathan had orders to travel to Egypt to eradicate an enemy to the Crown, orders he could not refuse.
Jonathan hadn’t known what to do about Miss Thorne. He’d considered carrying through with the marriage, then setting her up in the country until his duties were fulfilled, but he had been worried about leaving her alone. Ben Hillary presented a more reasonable solution that Jonathan believed would make Miss Thorne happier in the end. Hillary’s offer of a ship had helped keep Farrin at bay for a while too. Once Hillary and Miss Thorne were married, everyone would believe Jonathan left England to lick his wounds in private. His commander had agreed it was a perfect cover story, but perhaps Farrin was growing impatient.
Margrave drummed his slender fingers against his glass. “I could ask Ben if he hired a different investigator.”
“I do not think Hillary had anything to do with it. He was with us after the lecture.” Hoping to capture the man for questioning, Jonathan had followed Miss Thorne and Mr. Hillary after they left Gunter’s, but there was no more sign of the man. Jonathan shook his head. “Besides, you know Hillary and I have reached an agreement where Miss Thorne is concerned.”
“A wise choice given your profession.” Margrave’s frosty glare spoke volumes on his opinion of Jonathan’s attempt to live a regular life. “Have you made progress with Miss Thorne?”
Jonathan shrugged before gulping his drink. The smoky liquid seared his tongue and throat, leaving them slightly numb and tingly. “I believe so, but it hasn’t been difficult to discourage her and aim her in Hillary’s direction. She holds a tendre for him still.”
Margrave grinned. “You sound sulky.”
“Sod off. I do not.” Perhaps his pride suffered some bruising knowing his betrothed preferred another man, but it was for the best. “Aren’t I allowed a moment to wallow?”
“Do whatever you like.” Margrave pulled his watch from his pocket. “Just do it quickly. I have somewhere to be this evening.”
“I returned to England with the intention of getting out of this business. Napoleon is no longer a threat, so why won’t Farrin set me free? I have served my country.”
Very well, perhaps he was whining a bit. Jonathan had known when he was recruited for the Prince’s elite group of spies there would only ever be one way out.
Margrave smirked. “You don’t want freedom any more than I do. It is what we know. What else would you do with your time?”
“I don’t know. Marry the perfect lady, attend balls, fill a nursery. All the things normal gentlemen do.”
When Margrave’s brows lifted, Jonathan ignored the insinuation. He may not be normal, but he could still desire a conventional life.
“You cannot dance. Why would you care about attending balls?” The viscount’s gaze ran up and down Jonathan, assessing. “You don’t want out.” His bald statement rankled.
“How the hell do you know what I want?”
“You did not abandon your cover. You have no friends or acquaintances, beyond a childhood association with Lady Norwick. You could have returned as your true self, but instead you chose to play the role of absentminded Sir Jonathan: drumming enthusiast, archaeologist, and clumsy oaf.”
“I’m not that clumsy,” Jonathan grumbled, then drained his glass.
“My point exactly.” Margrave’s shrewd eyes narrowed to slits. “What is it you want from me? I assume you came for a reason.”
Jonathan had never asked the other man for anything. Beyond their early days training together, they’d had no contact until Margrave informed him Mr. Hillary had hired an investigator to follow him. Margrave wasn’t his friend, but Jonathan needed him all the same. “Ask around at the head office. Find out if Farrin is having me followed, and why.”
“And I should assist you because…”
“Mr. Hillary and Miss Thorne could be in danger, and I quite like them both.”