Charming the Spy (Scandals and Spies Book 4) Read online

  Her mouth dropped open. “That is not true! I’m glad no one in the staff has flirted with me. I don’t need to be treated like a—”

  “Like what, a woman? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Rocky, but it’s potently obvious that you are female.” He gestured at her dress. “You do nothing to hide it.”

  She clenched her jaw so hard he almost heard her bones creak. “I can’t wear breeches here.”

  Even when she wore breeches, she never concealed her chest. Her figure was always on full display in scandalous detail. The men at Tenwick Abbey probably dreamed about it whenever they closed their eyes, even if she was too waspish to romance. Catt had even had a disturbing dream or two about the rare instances when she let her hair down and didn’t try to eviscerate him.

  If she wasn’t jealous of the attention Miss Towney had been lavishing on him, then why had she behaved so absurdly? Unless…

  “You aren’t jealous that she noticed I’m an attractive man, are you?” He didn’t share the Graylockes’ dark coloring, but he’d turned a few heads from time to time. Granted, they soon turned back when they learned he had no fortune, title, or connections.

  “Of course not,” she snapped, but her voice was unusually high.

  Had she been jealous? A hot, tight sensation gripped his chest and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe as he considered it. In order for her to be jealous, she would have had to have noticed that he was an attractive man. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized that he wanted her to think of him that way.

  He dropped his gaze to her mouth, admiring the plump curve.

  Had she had dreams about him? That hot feeling overtook him and he lowered his head.

  Footsteps echoed off the floor, coming closer. Catt jumped away. What was he doing? He met Rocky’s bewildered gaze for a moment before they both looked away. They strode in silence to the hothouse. Rocky took two clipped steps for every one of his. As he held the door open for her, she breezed into the humid room. He hesitated by the door.

  What madness had overcome him just now? Had he almost kissed Rocky? That would have been a disaster. She would have gutted him for treating her that way. Truthfully, he would have deserved it. At the end of the day, she was his friend, wasn’t she? She deserved…respect.

  Not that he didn’t respect her. She demanded it and accepted no less. But for a moment, he’d forgotten that she was always jockeying to prove she was superior. Would her lips soften beneath his? Would she turn pliant in his arms?

  Unlikely. There wasn’t a pliant bone in Rocky’s body. More likely, she would seek to take control. But that thought didn’t disturb him nearly as much as he expected it to.

  He couldn’t step into the hothouse with her, essentially alone. When she rounded on him, her eyes glinting with an emotion he dared not name, he grabbed a small watering can and stepped back.

  “I’ll further our search for V.” They’d agreed last night to use a shortening of the French spymaster’s moniker, in case someone overheard them.

  She matched his curt, clipped tone. “We were hired to do a job. We have orders to fill.”

  He tried for a grin and a joking demeanor but it fell short. Did she not realize what he’d almost done? “Have you forgotten? We have only days to figure out who V is or the results could be disastrous. Besides, I’m sure you’ll be able to charm the plants into blooming all on your own.”

  She bristled.

  He stepped back and shut the door before she started another argument. If only one door was enough to bar him from his agonized thoughts. What had he almost done?

  He couldn’t begin to understand it, so he prowled the manor in search of suspects. He used the watering can as an excuse, pausing in each room to find and tend the plants along the way.

  On the second floor, an argument met his ears. A man’s hostile voice cut through the air, making the silence afterward ring. Catt couldn’t decipher the words, but he crept closer to the source in the hope that he could discover the nature of the argument. Could Monsieur V be ridiculing one of his spies? Morgan had said that the French spy he’d captured had refused to reveal French secrets out of fear.

  The door to Lady Belhaven’s upstairs parlor was ajar. Catt crept closer, adjusting his hold on the watering can in his hand as he did so. He peeked through the gap between door and wall.

  The glow of the fire cast an orange light across Lady Belhaven’s face. Her expression was hard, the grooves in her skin deep as she stood to face a much larger man. Lady Belhaven was perhaps five and a half feet tall, but the man loomed at a foot taller. He had a stiff manor of bearing and his clothes were askew, as if hastily pulled on. He looked to be in his late fifties, with gray liberally threading his receding brown hair. Who was he?

  “No, Kenneth,” Lady Belhaven said, her voice hard. “I will not facilitate your carousing. You’ve been gone for days and now you show up like this.” Lady Belhaven waved a pale hand down the man’s person.

  Kenneth scowled. He used his size to advantage, looming over the old lady with a monstrous expression on his face. Would he strike her? Lady Belhaven looked so frail that she wouldn’t survive such a blow.

  As Catt reached for the door handle, Kenneth spat, “You won’t help your own son, but you’ll house that degenerate, Stanley?”

  “That degenerate is your son, in case you’ve forgotten. It isn’t his fault that he’s following in his father’s footsteps.” Her chin quivered, as if the words cost her dearly. “Besides, he’s a sweet boy. He helps me. There’s hope for him yet.”

  “But no hope for me?” Kenneth snarled.

  “I don’t give Stanley money. I only let him stay under my roof, in return for the help he provides.”

  Where was Stanley now? Catt hoped the man would have put an end to this argument, if only for his own preservation.

  “You’ve gone senile. You give him money all the time. You don’t remember!”

  Her soft-looking cheek quivered as she clenched her jaw. “I’m not senile. I remember what I do and don’t do.”

  Kenneth sneered. “You forget things all the time. Apparently, one of those things is how to be a good mother.”

  The handle of the watering can dug into Catt’s palm. He’d witnessed his father accuse his mother of some variation of that before. Every time, it cut her so much deeper than the surface.

  Lady Belhaven insisted, “I’ve given you money before. You always gamble it away.”

  The big man scoffed. “Now, it’s ‘gambling’ not ‘carousing.’”

  “It’s always gambling.”

  “It is not.” The big man puffed himself up, as if he wasn’t large enough already. “There is an element of chance, but more of it is skill.”

  “Then why don’t you win? All I ever hear is how you come this close.” She held her fingers half an inch apart.

  Kenneth’s expression contorted in mixed disgust and rage. “You don’t complain when I win and bring home more blunt.”

  Her face hardened. “It should all go into repaying your debts.”

  With a dismissive shrug, Kenneth said, “If the shops are stupid enough to keep offering me more credit, why should I?”

  How daft was this man?

  “They offer you credit because of my good reputation,” Lady Belhaven snapped. “A reputation you’re dragging through the mud.”

  “If you care so much about it, then you settle my accounts.”

  The old lady quivered. Catt couldn’t tell if it was from rage or fear or some other emotion. “I have, far too often. It ends now. You’re a grown man and must take care of yourself.”

  His upper lip curled. “You don’t care about the well-being of your own flesh and blood?” He gripped her arm—hard, judging by the way she flinched. He spat, “You’re a horrible mother.”

  Tears filled her eyes, whether from the pain of his hold or of his words. Catt shoved the door open. Mission or no mission, he was not going to let any man treat his mother that way. Not even a man a fe
w inches taller and several stone heavier than Catt.

  Catt had always had a great affinity for his mother—a kind, loving woman he had no contact with since his father had cut ties with him. He wasn’t able to protect his own mother, but he could damn well stop Lady Belhaven from being victimized in this manner.

  The moment Kenneth noticed he was no longer alone, he dropped Lady Belhaven’s arm and stormed from the room. Catt pressed himself against the door to avoid being trampled. The man’s shoulder slammed into his on the way out. It stung, but Catt fought not to show it.

  Lady Belhaven dissolved into tears. She swayed as though her legs no longer wanted to hold her. Catt dropped the watering can and leaped across the room, catching her by the elbow and easing her down into the nearest chair. How could she weigh so little?

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, crouching beside the chair.

  She pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “I feel so shaky inside.” She pressed her palm to her chest.

  “Rest a moment,” Catt said. He stroked the hand clenched around her handkerchief, hoping to offer comfort. Her skin was as silky and thin as a spider’s web. Purple veins pulsed over the back of her hand. She grabbed him and clutched him, her strength surprising for such a frail old woman.

  “I’ll fetch you something from the kitchen to make you feel better. A tonic, perhaps.”

  She dabbed at the moisture on her cheeks again and nodded. Catt slipped away to perform the task he’d promised. He gathered the all-but-empty watering can on the way. As he stepped into the corridor, he burned with rage.

  Any man who made his mother cry was a heinous creature. If there was any justice in this world, Kenneth would be revealed to be Monsieur V, if only so Catt would have the satisfaction of seeing that he got his due.

  Chapter 6

  “What is wrong with you?” Rocky mumbled under her breath as she angrily deadheaded a rosebush. Even though Catt had long since abandoned her in the hothouse to do both their jobs while he explored the manor, her body still prickled with awareness. When he’d leaned closer to her in the heat of their argument, she had nearly surrendered to the urge to press her mouth to his. It was a good thing he was so blasted tall, or she might have kissed him.

  The notion should appall her. She and Catt were always at odds. He was pigheaded, sarcastic, infuriating.

  And handsome. She gritted her teeth. She’d always been able to ignore his good looks in favor of focusing on his less amiable qualities. But despite the fact that he’d been displaying nearly all of them in the corridor, she couldn’t keep her eyes off his mouth. She’d never had to battle that strong an urge to kiss someone before. If she hadn’t thought it would cause more trouble between them, she might consider doing it. It would buy her a moment or two of respite while his mouth was occupied doing something other than arguing.

  No, that was madness. She couldn’t possibly share such intimacy with…Catt. Anyone but him.

  The door opened, drawing her attention. She hunched her shoulders and tended to another plant, a fickle orchid. It required a delicate touch. Catt… She didn’t want to face him just yet.

  “What an unremarkable day.”

  The new arrival wasn’t Catt at all. Rocky shouldn’t be surprised; the day before, all manner of servants had entered and exited the hothouse in some routine task, most to collect one of the bouquets left on the front table for delivery. The place was nothing if not busy.

  The man had stooped to admire a lily that had just bloomed, his entrance as unremarkable as everyone else’s. Rocky noticed he was tall and broad with brown hair. Monsier V? Then again most of the men in the house fit that description.

  She wiped her hand on her skirt, then leaned over the table and held her hand toward him. “I’m Joy Rockwood.”

  He shook her hand and gave a slight not. “Benjamin Faulker. I tend to Lady Belhaven, and some of her special flower deliveries.”

  “Of course,” Rocky said.

  “I’m here for Lady Hastings’ bouquet. She likes a plain posy that will fade in among her décor.” He lifted his head to speak over his shoulder. “You didn’t overlook such a one?”

  “No.” Rocky finished trimming the far-from-plain orchid and readjusted the pot so it wouldn’t fall. “On the far left.”

  “Ah. Easy to miss. You’d think I had my eyes shut.”

  He scooped up the bouquet in question—a few yellow and white tulips—and exited. Rocky replaced the bunch with a less forgettable mixed bouquet of peonies and baby’s breath. As she tied a ribbon around the stem to hold the posy together, Catt stepped inside.

  He didn’t overlook her presence. The plain expression in his eyes faded, replaced by something not as easy to miss. Resisting the urge to shut her eyes and thereby deny what she feared was the same reflected desire she battled, Rocky looked away. She finished her task as she said, “Did you learn anything?”

  “Perhaps.”

  One terse word. He said nothing more. She dropped the posy and turned to look at him. Their moment together in the corridor…she feared it wouldn’t be as easy to forget as she’d hoped. Was she imagining that he’d felt the same for her?

  She must be. If he’d wanted to kiss her as well…

  No. It was unfathomable.

  “Then perhaps we ought to work. Since you decided your task was more important, you forfeited your spot in the hothouse.” She crossed her arms, jerking her chin toward the brick wall radiating heat along that side of the room. “You can work over there.”

  Irritation crossed his face, something she found much easier to overlook. With nothing more than a curt nod, he strode to that side of the room, far away from her.

  It didn’t take him long to start clawing at the cravat at his throat, loosening it and the collar beneath. He rolled his shoulders while he worked, clearly uncomfortable. Would he doff his jacket like he did while working with Gideon? He still had his shirt and waistcoat on beneath, more formal than many men of Rocky’s acquaintance. She’d seen men in less.

  Not that Catt, unerringly the gentleman, seemed to realize. She sighed. His constant fiddling made it impossible to overlook him. Unless she shut her eyes, her gaze was constantly drawn to his lean form. As he glanced up, meeting her gaze, a shiver of awareness coursed through her.

  She cleared her throat. “You can remove your jacket. I won’t faint at the sight of you in your shirtsleeves.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t think you would.”

  He made no move to doff his clothing. She shrugged. If he wanted to ignore her offer, then he could suffer. She’d made herself plain.

  As Catt pushed up the sleeves of his jacket for perhaps the tenth time, Lady Belhaven entered the room. She looked flustered. “Can you send a posy off to Lady Hastings posthaste? She must receive it this morning. I forgot…”

  “Of course, Lady Belhaven,” Catt said, his voice low and soothing as though he spoke to a child, not a grown woman. “We’ll see to it.”

  “Actually, it’s already been seen to,” Rocky interrupted. “Benjamin came in not an hour ago and collected it.”

  Although she’d expected the news to bolster Lady Belhaven’s obvious distress and put her mind at ease, the old woman only looked more distraught. In fact, she looked near tears.

  “Oh, is he back already? Forgive me for being so stupid. I must have asked him.” She turned away, her face contorted with mixed pain and self-loathing.

  Catt stepped forward. His shoulders were bent, making him seem less imposing than his height would suggest. “Think nothing of it, Lady Belhaven. It is always good to double check.”

  She rubbed beneath her eye with an impatient movement. “I don’t mean to be so stupid lately…”

  “Not stupid,” Rocky interjected. “It’s an easy thing to miss. We’re happy you stopped by.”

  “Do you need a cup of coffee or some seedcake?” Catt offered.

  He encircled the old lady with his arm as though it was the most natu
ral thing in the world. Had Rocky ever seen him act so nurturing toward someone? Lady Belhaven seemed to take comfort in him.

  She shook her head. “Thank you, no. I believe I’ll lie down for a spell.” As she left the room, she waved off his offer to escort him. “My man will help me.”

  Her man? Did she mean Faulker? She did seem confused. Although she touched the walls for balance, she didn’t seem terribly unsteady on her feet.

  When Catt turned, he found Rocky staring at him. He frowned. “You aren’t going to criticize me for being kind to an old lady, are you?”

  “No. Why would I?” She balled her fists. The fact that he even thought her capable…

  He shrugged. “Good. I found her son yelling at her earlier today. She could use a bit of kindness.”

  His posture turned surly, putting the conversation to an end as he resumed his post. Rocky bit her lip as she continued to work. Somehow, she doubted that seeing him so attentive was something that she would forget.

  Chapter 7

  How did Morgan expect them to find any spies in the household when they barely had a moment to breathe? In the two days since Catt had arrived, he and Rocky had spent ninety-eight percent of their time in the hothouse, tending the plants around the house or preparing arrangements to be placed in the ballroom and around the house for the masquerade ball. Although tending the plants afforded them a moment away from each other’s company and the excuse to snoop, it always left the person in the hothouse with a larger work load.

  Catt now understood how Lady Belhaven had amassed her fortune. Bouquets were in demand for nearly everyone with any remote connection to High Society. Fortunately, her hothouse was even larger than the orangery at Tenwick Abbey, which allowed for enough plants in various stages of their cycles for Catt and Rocky to be able to harvest the blooms without running short. Every morning was a mad scramble to prepare the bouquets and deliver them before fashionable Society awoke. Every afternoon consisted of tending the remainder of the plants and ensuring they were in good health. It was exhausting work and even together, Catt and Rocky never seemed to be able to tend more than a quarter of the hothouse before they fell into bed, exhausted. He had no idea how Lady Belhaven had handled the work on her own, even if she had purportedly employed a servant without botanical expertise to help.