‘I do not suppose that it matters whether it is you, or Richard Kestrel, or his brother the Duke who escorts me home! The ladies of the Midwinter villages are interchangeable to you, it seems. Perhaps Sir John Norton is in on your little wager as well, hence the scene by the river?’ Another thought suddenly struck her so forcibly it hurt. ‘Perhaps when you kissed me that night it was part of the same game that you are all playing! I will say this for you all, Cory-you are a bunch of scoundrels who certainly know how to enliven a dull stay in the country!’
There was a silence so sharp that Rachel could hear her own angry words echoing in her head. She saw Cory’s hands clench on the reins.
‘Just what the devil are you talking about, Rachel?’ he said, with deadly calm. ‘What wager is this?’
‘Oh, do not pretend not to know,’ Rachel exclaimed. ‘I heard you speaking to Lord Richard at the ball, asking how much flirtation you were expected to undertake as part of Justin Kestrel’s plan-’ She broke off as Cory took one hand off the reins and closed it hard about her wrist. He did not hurt her, but the shock was sufficient to silence her momentarily. She gasped. ‘Ouch! What are you doing?’
Cory did not reply for a moment. He let her go and Rachel sat rubbing her wrist with her other hand, though it was not in the least bit damaged. Something had changed the tone of their discussion, however. Rachel was forced to admit that in a strange way she had been almost enjoying the slightly childish, irritable squabbling with Cory. But now his face was hard and set and she felt a tremor of apprehension run right through her.
‘I am asking you to keep quiet for the time being whilst we are on this road,’ Cory said pleasantly. He shot her a look. ‘I am begging you, in fact.’
The road was slow and busy with pedestrians and traffic returning from the regatta, but Cory turned the phaeton down a narrow lane where the hedges pressed in and the branches arched overhead to create a green tunnel. Once they were out of sight of the main thoroughfare, he drew to a halt on a sweep of grass in front of a hay barn. He turned to her, his expression stern.
‘What did you overhear that night, Rachel?’
Rachel’s puzzled gaze searched his face. He looked severe and unyielding, and she frowned, all childish squabbles forgotten. ‘What are we doing here? This is not the way to Midwinter Royal-’
‘Just answer the question,’ Cory said.
Rachel jumped at his tone, she knew Cory would insist on a reply. ‘Oh, very well. It is merely as I said. It was near the end of the ball and I had gone out on to the terrace for some fresh air when you and Lord Richard came out of the card room. I heard you saying that when you had agreed to Justin Kestrel’s plan you had had no notion that it would involve such a spirit of self-sacrifice.’ She screwed her face up as she tried to remember his exact words. ‘You made some remark about the amount of flirtation you were obliged to undertake. That was all. What-?’
Cory was frowning. ‘What were you doing out there, Rae?’
‘I told you! I required some fresh air.’
‘But when you dropped your handkerchief and I brought it in to you, you denied that you had even seen me, let alone overheard my conversation,’ Cory pointed out.
Rachel felt her heart lurch. She had forgotten about the handkerchief. ‘So I did,’ she said slowly.
To her surprise, Cory did not pursue that immediately, but asked a completely different question. ‘Was anybody else with you, Rae?’
Rachel’s frown deepened. ‘No.’
‘Are you certain?’
‘Yes, of course! I was quite alone.’
Cory’s eyes were narrowed on her face. ‘And have you told anyone else about what you heard?’
‘No!’ Rachel could feel herself blushing. She looked away, fiddling with the seam of her gloves. ‘I have told no one.’
‘Look at me,’ Cory said inexorably. Then, when she raised her head and met his eyes, ‘Are you sure you have not mentioned this to anyone?’
Rachel gave him a level look. She found that it was important that he believed her, but, given that she had already lied to him, she could understand why he might not trust her.
‘No, I told no one. I promise you.’
‘Then why are you looking so guilty?’
Rachel pressed her hands together. ‘Am I? I suppose it is because I lied to you about seeing you on the terrace, and because I did think about telling someone…’ She gave him a defiant look. ‘I wanted to tell Deborah-Mrs Stratton-because she is my friend and I wished to confide.’
Cory was frowning now. ‘Why did you not?’
Rachel fidgeted again and settled on a half-truth. She did not wish to admit that it was some residual loyalty to him that had held her silent. She had been disappointed that Cory might be involved in such a low trick and she had not wanted to tell anyone else.
‘I do not know,’ she said. ‘I suppose it was because I thought I might have misunderstood what I had heard.’
‘And why did you not simply ask me?’ Cory asked, going to the heart of her difficulty. ‘Why did you lie to me and why did you not challenge me over what you had heard? If we are such good friends as you think, why could you not do that?’
This question was even harder than the first. Rachel knew that not so long ago she would have confronted Cory without hesitation, but those days were gone.
‘We always seem to be in dispute these days,’ she said, her voice a little bleak. ‘I did not wish to make it worse.’
It was not the whole truth, but she did not want to tell Cory how angry she had been with him, nor how she had planned the foolish revenge of the drawings. She watched his face, and felt relief flood her when his expression eased slightly.
‘I see,’ he said slowly. ‘Well, I may put your mind at rest on one issue at least, Rae. You did misunderstand what you heard.’ A hint of a smile touched his mouth. ‘There is no wager.’
Rachel stared. ‘No wager? Then what were you talking about with Lord Richard?’
Cory sighed. ‘I will tell you if you swear not to say a word.’
Rachel made a little gesture. ‘I promise.’
‘You already know that Justin Kestrel and the rest of us are at Midwinter for more than one purpose,’ Cory said. ‘You guessed as much on the very first day that I arrived.’
Rachel’s eyes widened. ‘You mean-the threat of invasion and you joining the Volunteers, and Lord Richard being an Admiralty man-’
‘Precisely,’ Cory said. ‘There is a French spy and their criminal associates at work in the Midwinter villages, Rae. Richard and I-and one or two others-are attempting to unmask them and discover how they operate.’
Rachel’s eyes opened even wider. This seemed too fanciful to be true. ‘Surely not! Not in sleepy old Midwinter!’
‘It is precisely because Midwinter
Rachel’s mind was spinning. ‘But what has that to do with what you said to Richard Kestrel?’
There was a pause. ‘There are many different ways of gathering intelligence,’ Cory said mildly.
Rachel’s eyes rounded in astonishment. ‘No! I cannot believe it.’ Her surprise warmed into anger. ‘I cannot believe that you and the Kestrel brothers are making love to the ladies of Midwinter just to get them to tell you all their secrets. That is outrageous. And so underhand! Oh, how dare you?’
Cory’s smile had deepened. ‘It is a matter of life and death, Rae-’
Rachel snorted. ‘What absolute rubbish! That is a very poor excuse.’
‘Not so,’ Cory said. ‘Besides, there is one thing that you do not know, Rae. The Midwinter spy is a woman.’
Rachel was so shocked that she fell silent, her outrage forgotten. It seemed scandalous enough that the gentlemen would use such underhand tactics in getting to know the ladies of the Midwinter villages, but that one of those ladies themselves should be a French spy seemed unbelievable. Rachel mentally considered the members of
