Frances shot him a glare over her shoulder. “Then sit down here next to me and stop lurking like a vulture. You, too, Papa.”
Both men sat, and John breathed in the heady smell of wildflowers. He was able to smell few things, and none of them as delicate as her scent.
She paid no attention to him, allowing him to stare at her as much as he dared in her father’s presence. He liked Sir Edmund and didn’t want to annoy him, but the man’s daughter was a fascinating blend of clever and lovely.
“I think we can rule out word transposition,” she finally said, handing John the notes she had made. “Do you agree?”
John looked it over. Her work was faultless. “Yes, I do. Your work is very clear.”
“Father?”
Sir Edmund hid a huge yawn behind his hand. “I’m sure you did well.”
She rose. “Perhaps we should continue this tomorrow? I’m certain no one will miss me until luncheon. What does your schedule look like tomorrow, my lord?”
John stood quickly and waited for Sir Edmund to rise to his feet. “I’m sure I can schedule some time in the morning to meet with you. Sir Edmund?”
“I’m at your disposal.” He tried to hide another yawn.
“Ten o’clock should be good. We’ll meet back here then. Remember, this is a secret endeavor necessary to the wellbeing of our country. Tell no one.” John turned away to return to his rooms to take off his hot, hated mask.
“You’re welcome,” Frances said behind him.
He swung around. “Excuse me?”
“When someone does you a favor, it is customary to say thank you. I was simply replying.”
Before she could turn around and flounce out, John crossed the room to her side. “You should thank me for inviting you to assist your country. Assist in a way, I might add, that uses your…surprising talents.”
Once again, he was the recipient of her scowl. “No more surprising than learning you were a spy. Stealing secrets.”
“I was working for my country,” he growled in a tone he once used on incompetent soldiers.
“So am I, apparently.” She turned and marched out of his study, a study in violet sternness.
Her father made a helpless gesture and followed her.
John Ogilvy, Earl of Wolfbrook, looked at the papers in his hand. The top sheet was the grid Miss Smith-Pressley used to come to her first conclusion about the message. Her neat penmanship danced before his eyes.
Furious, he threw the papers on his desk and stormed out to his room, untying his mask as he went.
***
Her father caught up to Frances as she reached the main staircase. “Really, my dear, we should—”
“No, Papa, we really shouldn’t. If you’re going in to visit with Mama and the company, please tell them I have a headache and beg to be excused. However, I doubt anyone will ask.”
Before she could flee up the stairs, her father reached out for her arm. “You need to develop an understanding of these people to guide you in finding our traitor.”
“I can’t talk to these men.” Their wives, sweethearts, or mothers wouldn’t allow it.
“Then talk to the ladies in their lives. Get an understanding of their home lives. Who needs money. Who wants power.”
Frances hung her head. “Mama or Georgina would handle this much better than I ever could. I don’t know how to talk to women.”
When she looked up, her father was smiling broadly. “Then it’s about time you learned. Think of this as a practical lesson in the study of human nature.”
“You believe it will help catch the traitor?”
“Yes. None of us have had any luck talking to the men. Perhaps you’ll find a clue talking to the women.”
Frances pasted on a smile, held out her arm to her father, and the two of them advanced on the drawing room.
When they entered the room, she felt every pair of eyes focus on her. Her father escorted her to where her mother, sister, Lady Crawford, and another young lady were sitting.
“Oh, there you are,” her mother said. “Whatever took you so long?”
“The earl learned I read Latin and wanted an outside opinion on a manuscript he is considering purchasing.” As lies go, it wasn’t brilliant, but Frances doubted anyone would care enough to question her story.
“Why would he ask you?” Lady Crawford demanded.
Frances realized she’d have to be careful around this older woman, who appeared to be equal parts sharp and outspoken. “My cousin is an expert on the subject, and he has given me more than my share of credit for help in researching his scholarly papers.”
“Hmpf. Not very ladylike.”
Lady Smith-Pressley glared at Lady Crawford and said, “Miss Ramsey, I don’t believe you’ve met my elder daughter, Miss Frances Smith-Pressley. Frances, this is Miss Jane Ramsey.”
Frances curtsied and sat. Her father bowed to the group and made his escape to the card room.
“You’ve met the earl?” Miss Ramsey asked. “Is he as dreadfully sick as they say?”
“Not at all. He appears to be physically and mentally well.”
“But he won’t meet his guests. Well, most of them,” Lady Crawford said with a glance down her nose at Frances.
“He was left with certain signs of affliction that might be off-putting at the dinner table,” Frances said. She needed to question these women, not the other way around. “How, exactly, was he wounded? I’m sure you’ve heard more than I have.”
“He was caught by the French behind their lines near Napoleon’s tent. He passed as a French soldier until he was recognized and betrayed by a British traitor who was visiting behind the French lines. They beat the earl savagely and left him for dead.” Lady Crawford gave a sigh. “He was such a handsome, vibrant man before.”
Frances found him still to be vibrant and domineering, which she knew better than to tell these ladies. They would demand all the particulars.
Miss Ramsey asked what was probably on all their minds, since they had little to entertain them. “What does he look like now?”
“I don’t know.” It was a truthful answer.
It also didn’t satisfy Georgina. “Come now, Frances. You were in the same room with him tonight. I know it. So, tell us everything.”
“He was fully dressed and wore a leather mask over his face, so I saw nothing of his wounds. I know nothing of his appearance.” And she was determined not to satisfy their curiosity. “Where was he when he was injured?”
Lady Crawford spoke first. “He was attacked near the French camp before the Battle of Tres Fleures.”
“But they didn’t find him until late the next day, after we routed the French,” Lady Susanna Ogilvy said as she joined the group. Her scowl shifted to a gentle smile. “I wanted to tell you we plan to have skating and sledding tomorrow after luncheon, if you’d care to join the party.”
Lady Crawford and Frances’s mother declined, but Miss Ramsey and Georgina immediately agreed.
“What about you, Frances?” her sister asked with a smirk.
“We’ll see. I have the earl’s permission to visit the library again.”
“You are so dull,” Georgina replied with a sniff.
Miss Ramsey said, “I heard that you read Latin.”
“And Greek.” Frances said. Immediately, she knew from her mother’s scowl that she hadn’t kept her pride out of her voice. Her mother would chastise her later for her bad manners.
“Her father indulges her too much,” Frances’s mother said. She didn’t sound happy about her husband’s quirks.
“Goodness.” Miss Ramsey gave a little giggle. “I wouldn’t know where to start. My father says it’s a good thing I wasn’t born a boy.”
With her blond curls and delicate features, Frances thought Miss Ramsey would make a terrible boy. Fortunately, she stopped the thought from crossing her lips.
Frances asked her mother, “Would you rather I went sledding tomorrow?” She bit back a sigh as her mother looked from one daughter to the other and considered. Frances was more athletic than Georgina and delighted in keeping up with the boys. She had won a few admirers with her skill and might have made a fair match if she’d shown any interest in any of them.
“No, you’d probably better stick to the library. You’d be happier there.”
Frances could taste bitterness as she heard her mother favor her sister. Again. She wasn’t here to fight with her mother. She needed to learn what others knew about the traitor. “Did they catch the traitor responsible for the earl’s injuries?”
“No, and please don’t ask about it. The episode is still upsetting to the whole family,” Susanna Ogilvy said as she walked out of the room.
“Frances, what have I told you about asking impertinent questions?” her mother snapped. “Now you’ve insulted our hostess.”
“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. And I’m very sorry that a traitor could get away with inflicting such harm to a British officer and get away with it.”
“The traitor never laid a hand on the earl. He had his French minions do the damage,” Lady Crawford said.
“While the traitor escaped? How terrible.” Frances felt free to express her anger at the man who sold out his king and country. Worse, he was responsible for disfiguring the man just as much as if he had inflicted the damage himself.
“But why? How could a man turn his back on his homeland?” she asked of no one in particular.
“Disappointment. He’d expected royal favor and had been rejected by the government,” Lady Crawford said.
“He’d been turned down by his lady love in favor of another,” Miss Ramsey said. Frances recognized a silly mind similar to her sister’s.
“Money,” her mother said flatly.
“Lady Smith-Pressley,” Lady Crawford sounded scandalized. “How can you say that?”
“That’s what most of these young men want, isn’t it? Money to buy an estate. Money to claim a well-born bride.”
Frances looked at her mother, impressed at her clarity of thought and outspokenness. She suspected she was seeing an inkling of the woman her father had found worthy to marry.
If her mother was right, then the only people currently suspected by the earl of being a traitor would be Sir Desmond Montague or Percy Jones. Lord Wethers had very recently inherited a title and an estate, and Henry Crawford was his father’s heir. Could it be so easy as to narrow the field down to Sir Desmond Montague and Percy Jones?
While Sir Desmond had been knighted for bravery, the title hadn’t come with lands. Percy Jones was a younger son with neither title, lands, nor riches. Money could come in handy for both of them.
Frances would have to keep an eye on both men. Better yet, she’d tell the earl about her reasoning and he could have his servants watch them. Meanwhile, she would be free to read in the library.
Yes, this could be a very pleasant Christmas.