“I don’t understand,” she managed, but she did.
“There is a slight possibility of revenge,” the viscount said as though reading her thoughts. “But we don’t believe that Lord Poole is now in a position to provoke such an action, and it would be too easily traceable to him if he did. He is only in France, and our informants there are impressed with the rather modest lifestyle he has taken up. They are under the impression he hopes to someday win a pardon based on good behavior and to have his estates returned to him.”
“But you do not yet know who the shooter is, clearly.” She looked to Leam, and it was nearly painful to do so. “Is that so?”
His eyes said he did not wish to tell her, but he spoke. “Not entirely.”
“Lord Blackwood received a message from the shooter less than a fortnight ago in Scotland.”
“I don’t understand.” Her voice quavered. “If someone wished to harm me, why would he tell you about it?”
A muscle flickered in Leam’s jaw.
“My lady.” Lord Gray’s voice remained firm. “Through his work for the crown in the past, Lord Blackwood may have displeased one or two persons intent on Scotland’s disunion from Britain. We suspect you are being threatened to control his actions now, to ensure that he does not further impede these rebels’ plans.”
Her heart pounded. She could not look away from Leam. “Is this true?”
“I don’t believe it is.”
“You also said you aren’t a spy.”
“I am not. But you are in danger.”
“And how shall I wrest myself from that danger?” An unfamiliar, sticky hysteria bubbled up in her with the fear for her mother, and that perhaps he had sought information from her in Shropshire, and that was all she had been to him—the same way Lambert had only used her to dishonor her brothers.
“Shall I admit to you and Lord Gray here everything I know of Lord Chamberlayne?” she continued. “Well then, I have found him partial to claret but truly fond of port. He prefers whist to piquet, and likes his matched grays overly much, although in my opinion they are too showy for a gentleman of his maturity. He recently gave my mother a lovely necklace, quite tasteful really, and I believe he intends to ask her to marry him shortly, although perhaps he already did last night, but I haven’t seen her yet today as I was obliged to come out at an early hour to be lied to by a pair of men who insist they are not spies but who behave remarkably like one might imagine spies do.”
Lord Gray extended a placating hand. “My lady—”
“What do you wish to know? Ask me and I shall give you my considered responses. Then you can tell me what I must do to protect myself and my mother.”
“You needn’t protect yourself,” Leam said quietly. “We will.”
She closed her eyes. Was this reluctant connection all that she was to have of him now? Someone threatened her and so he must remain involved with her?
“My lady,” Lord Gray said into the dreary silence. “We do not wish to detain you here longer this morning. Would you consent to writing down what you know of Lord Chamberlayne so that our agents may analyze it?”
These men were not playacting as she had once done in spying on Lambert Poole. This was real, and she should help, especially if it could exonerate her mother’s beau. And if it did not… For her mother’s sake, she could not imagine that now. Nearly thirty years with a husband who lived a double life should not be rewarded with another such man. But why would the crown suspect him otherwise?
“How are you protecting me?” she finally asked.
The viscount gestured beyond her shoulder. Fifteen yards distant, a hulking man stood with his back to the trunk of a leafless tree, hands in his trouser pockets.
“That is Mr. Grimm,” he said.
“A
“My lady, we must make another request of you.”
“No.” Leam moved toward her. “Lady Katherine—”
“We wish you to interview your mother about Lord Chamberlayne, and to encourage her to share private information with you, as well as your servants and Chamberlayne’s as you are able, then to write that in your report as well.”
“Goddamn, Gray.” He came very close but did not touch her. “Kitty, you must go now.”
Tears pressed at the backs of her eyes, and a horrid thickness in her chest and throat. “Yes.” She made herself look up into his face, and what she saw there twisted her insides—steel again, and anger, but also something else, that warmth and intensity that had been there from the first and drew her to him.
“Did you come back to London because of the message that threatened me? Is that the purpose you spoke of that keeps you here when you wish to be in Scotland?”
He took a tight breath and drew her hand to his arm. “Allow me to help you mount.”
“You wish me gone so that you can speak with your friend openly. You are very angry, so clearly this interview did not proceed as you expected. What are you going to do, Leam, hit Lord Gray now like you hit Mr. Yale at the inn?”
“It’s possible.” He drew her toward her horse.
“I saw his bruise on the way to church on Christmas.” She spoke whatever words occurred to her because to feel now was too difficult. “I am all curiosity. What was Mr. Yale going to ask me that you found the need to ‘send him to the snow,’ as he so colorfully put it? Did he want me to put my skills to use interviewing Mr. and Mrs. Milch, or perhaps Emily and Mr. Cox? That would have been wonderful. Just think, I could have learned all their secrets and begun playing them off one another right there trapped in the village. What a drama I might have precipitated.” Her voice was brittle, her heart in a welter.
“Yes, that was it,” he replied stonily. “You are very clever.”
“Mr. Yale does work with you and Lord Gray and Jinan, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.” He set his hands for her to step into, then tossed her up. She leaned forward on the saddle and he assisted in adjusting her skirts as though he were any gentleman assisting any lady at such a mundanely courteous task. It was all quite normal, as nothing had ever actually been between them and most certainly would never be now.
“I wonder how he felt about being dragged into Emily’s petty domestic troubles,” she murmured.
“A spy pretending to court a girl to save her from a fish man.”
“I believe she called him a fish troll. And there is nothing petty about attaching oneself to the wrong person.” He finished adjusting her stirrup and his gaze came up to hers. It seemed for a moment that he would speak. Then he stepped away from the horse and smacked it on the flank. It started forward, and Kitty did not look back. At least this time she would not be obliged to watch him leave her.
Leam rounded on Gray.
“Goddamn you for tricking her into this, Colin. And goddamn you for using me to do so. The only reason I arranged this meeting was because of your threat to have me confined to Scotland if I did not.” With Cox threatening Kitty, he could not leave London. The blackguard had not yet revealed himself in order to collect the object Leam supposedly possessed. But when he surfaced, Leam would have his neck.
“We need the information.” The viscount stood at ease, apparently oblivious to the menacing growl of the wolfhound bitch before him.
“What can she give you that you cannot acquire from another source? From an
“I know you went to the Secret Office yesterday, Leam. You went there to read the file on Poole.”
His hands fisted. “How proud you must be of your network of clerks and footmen, Colin.
Admirable.”
“You saw the documents. Her letters are detailed, her observations keen. She did all of that for years without the assistance of training, or any other advantage. The director was impressed, and at least two admirals on the board said they hadn’t ever seen such careful work from an informant, especially not one thoroughly embedded in society as she. Including Constance.”
“Kitty Savege was not an informant. Since you have also read the file you know very well it was a personal matter to her.”
