“You would make a marvelous spy,” said Stanley, who seemed pleased at the chance to put down his book.
Lady Trafford gestured for Withrow to speak.
“I admit that I had no idea that you were spying on us, and that you were quite effective in gathering information.” Withrow seemed annoyed at having to make this admission. “I am certain my aunt can find a place for you.”
“You would, of course, be compensated for your efforts,” said Lady Trafford. “It is not a grand amount, but it is comparable to what you might receive as a governess in a nice home. We can offer you seventy pounds a year. You would also be given funds to cover expenses, a budget for clothing and disguises, money to pay or buy gifts for informants, some who will realize they are informants, others who will not, as well as travel costs.”
As she considered the offer, a warmth grew in Mary’s chest. This would give her independence, and, more importantly, purpose. No longer did she possess only two options, marriage or remaining a spinster dependent on the generosity of her relations. She could be a part of something greater than herself. While the nature of the work meant she would never be recognized for it, the praise of the world was shallow and fleeting.
“What happens if I turn you down?” asked Mary.
“Ideally, you would return to your home and not share what you have learned with others. If you decide to reveal all that you know, there is the possibility that no one would believe you. If they do believe you and it becomes well-known, it is likely that a number of us will lose much of what we have done as well as our positions. But it will be my own fault for underestimating you all this time.”
The response satisfied Mary. She would not undertake a venture such as this if it felt like she was being forced into it.
Mary considered the face of her mourning ring, studying the miniature painting with the weeping willow, the broken column, and her father’s name and date of death. She considered spinning the bevel but she did not. She knew the lock of his hair was there, against her finger, without needing to spin it. She considered his hidden legacy, the work he had performed for the government that would never be known to the world.
She wanted to be a part of it.
“I will do it,” said Mary. “I will work with you to defend and protect our country and people.”
“Excellent,” said Lady Trafford.
“And will I, in fact, be working with Miss Bennet in London?” asked a hopeful Mr. Stanley.
“I believe Mr. Booth will need her in London for the season, but he will decide where Miss Bennet’s skills will be most useful.”
“Send me to London too,” said Fanny, suddenly standing.
“Your request for a transfer was denied,” said Lady Trafford.
“You don’t think Mary can do this”—Fanny gestured at Mary’s hair and clothes—“by herself, do you? Besides, there are many places a genteel woman cannot go; a disguise itself is not a substitute for knowledge of how to act within a particular community.”
Lady Trafford considered for a moment. “Very well,” she said. “You can pretend to be Mary’s personal maid. If I publicly announce that I have taken Mary as my ward, it will seem natural for me to give her an allowance and lend a servant.”
Lady Trafford turned back to Mary. “Fanny will certainly assist you when a disguise is necessary. But I suspect you will be able to do a great deal simply by being yourself. Not only did Corneau and Colonel Radcliffe underestimate you, but so did Withrow and I. I have spent all this time attempting to mold you into a successful spy, when you had what you needed all along.
“Of course, you will also find that the skills I have taught you can be a useful part of your arsenal. At times you may want people to underestimate you, but at other times you may want to please them and make them comfortable with you, so that you can better extract their confidences. In terms of your accomplishments, it will be your choice of which ones to reveal, and which to conceal. Your knowledge of economics and politics may seem irregular and draw too much attention in some contexts, while it may be useful to display this knowledge in other situations.
“I do need to warn you, Miss Bennet, for almost all the work of a spy is slow and tedious. You speak to people and make connections for days and weeks and months and sometimes you still do not find the information you want or need.”
“The things of the greatest worth often require the greatest effort,” Mary observed.
“Indeed,” said Lady Trafford. “The work we are involved in is worth every effort. I think you will be a great asset to our organization.” She reached out her hand to Mary.
“I will do all that I can.” Miss Mary Bennet, the newest spy for the British government, shook Lady Trafford’s hand.
The End
Historical Note and Acknowledgements
Castle Durrington is inspired by Sir Bysshe Shelley’s Castle Goring. (There really is a hidden storage room with pig-head statues, though I took creative liberties with the vents and rope ladder.) With only three exceptions, the epigraphs are real excerpts from newspapers. Like Mary, I learned about letterlocking—letterlocking.org provides numerous resources on the history and art. While historical fiction requires endless research, I relied most heavily on Sue Wilkes’ Regency Spies: Secret Histories of Britain’s Rebels and Revolutionaries, Carolly Erickson’s Our Tempestuous Day: A History of Regency England, Norma Myers’ Reconstructing the Black Past: Blacks in Britain 1780-1830, and Susannah Fullerton’s A Dance with Jane Austen: How a Novelist and Her Characters Went to the Ball.
A veritable spy network of people helped me create this novel. Rebecca Davis translated the French passages, Dena Haynes provided advice on horses, Anna Lunt created the ear drawing, and Richard Johnson
