The King's Code (The Lady Spies Series #3): A Regency Historical Romance (4 page)

Juliet blinked, staring at the mouth that had formed the wrong word.

“What?” she breathed.

“Father has agreed to buy us a house in town so that we can—” His proposal was cut off when Juliet slapped him.

“How dare you, Robert Barksdale.” She was shaking, cut to the core.

“Juliet, be reasonable.” Lord Barksdale stared at her. “No one will marry you, and you are far too passionate a woman to live your life alone.” Robert swallowed truly distressed. “The thought of you with another man . . . What choice do I have, Juliet?” He rose to his feet. “Marry you and become a pauper or take you as my mistress so that I can take care of you the way that I have always wanted?”

She could see in his eyes that he was still hoping she would change her mind.

“The choice you have, Robert.” Juliet was lifted to her feet by her fury. “Is when to become a man.” She wanted to hurt him as much as he had wounded her. “I never want to see you again, Lord Barksdale. Please, leave this house immediately.”

Robert stared at her in disbelief, the reality of her words taking a moment to sink in. Then he walked toward the door. However, he stopped when they were shoulder to shoulder, facing opposite directions.

His left hand grasped hers and he whispered to the walls, “I do love you, Juliet,” before letting her hand go and walking through the drawing room doors and out of her shattered life.

~

“
Tell
me everything you know about Lady Juliet Pervill.”

“Good God, not you, too, McCurren.” Christian St. John, Seamus’s lifelong friend and second son to the Duke of St. John, slurped his brandy angrily as they sat in an isolated corner of White’s gentlemen’s club. “Just because I am of close acquaintance with the cousins does not mean that I will spread gossip about—”

“I know all the gossip.” Seamus rolled his eyes. “What I want is the truth.”

“Oh.” Christian’s stormy Nordic blue eyes cleared. “No way on earth Juliet Pervill would have an assignation, particularly in Felicity Appleton’s own home. She is far too sensible.”

Sensible? He did not think the lady’s laboring for the Foreign Office a very sensible course to take.

“I want to know about the lady’s character.”

“Why?” His companion’s fair brow rose with speculation. “Interested? Might need to wait until the gossip dies down a bit before—”

“Christian.” Seamus sighed, keeping the man on point.

“Very well.” Christian rolled his eyes as if supremely disappointed that he was not playing along. “Lady Juliet Pervill is the only child of Lord and Lady Pervill. Lady Jane was a wealthy debutante swept off her feet by the handsome, if somewhat narcissistic, Lord Neville Pervill. The moment the ink was dry on their marriage license, Lord Pervill began gaming and whoring until he discovered that Lady Jane’s father had placed his daughter’s inheritance in trust so that her philandering husband would be unable to touch the majority.”

Seamus thought back to the Spencer ball and the man who would have been so transparent to anyone but a very young and uncommonly innocent girl.

“By then it was too late,” Christian continued. “Lord Pervill had lost the affections of his young bride. Lady Jane gave him a monthly allowance on the condition that he leave their country estate so that she might raise their infant daughter alone. He moved to their house in town, which is why Juliet Pervill stays with her cousin Lady Felicity Appleton whenever she visits London.”

“While that is all very fascinating”—Seamus nodded— “my question was of Lady Juliet Pervill’s nature.”

“Oh, Juliet is great fun. Although she is very blunt at times,” Christian said. Seamus thought that a considerable underestimation. “But I would say her overriding characteristic is her wit.

“Juliet Pervill is by far the cleverest woman that I have ever met. Felicity once told me that she studied something . . .” Christian stared at the paneled wooden walls as if they held the key to his memory. “Somewhere? Oxford, I think. Or perhaps it was Cambridge?”

“It’s of no significance.” Seamus waved away the inquiry, thinking it truly did not matter. Lady Juliet Pervill was going to be ensconced in his office tomorrow morning whether he liked it or not.

“The whole scandal has been very distressing for both the cousins.” St. John sipped his brandy. “I even considered asking Juliet for her hand in marriage.”

“Really?” Seamus sat up, shocked.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Christian shrugged, looking down at the carpet in an infrequent moment of contemplation, which was quickly replaced by an infectious grin. “Juliet wouldn’t have me.”

“How do you know if you haven’t asked?”

“As I’ve said . . .” Christian held up his near empty snifter. “Juliet is a very clever girl.”

“A lady does not have to be particularly clever to refuse you, St. John. She need only look at your string of women to see that fidelity is not your strongest suit.”

“Mean-spirited of you, Seamus, but unfortunately true.” Christian nodded, not at all remorseful. “Although I must tell you that my current mistress is absolutely spectacular. Have I told you about the baroness?”

“No.” Seamus shook his head, always entertained by Christian’s outlandish exploits.

“It must be the snow, because every Russian lover I have ever had truly understands how to warm a man’s bed.” Christian St. John grinned.

“You realize that one of these days you are going to get yourself shot?” Seamus warned.

“That is what my brother and father repeatedly tell me and I don’t need to hear it from you, Mister McCurren. And . . .” Christian lifted his brown Hessians to the leather ottoman between them, adding, “I don’t see you rushing to the chapel anytime soon. In fact, Daniel told me that you had just broken it off with your paramour. How long were you with the lady?”

“None of your bloody business,” Seamus said, annoyed with his indiscreet older brother.

“That’s right, nine long months.” He was going to kill Daniel. “Nine months with the same woman and in the end we arrive at the same damn place. However, I had a far more entertaining journey.”

“That is debatable, St. John,” Seamus smiled mischievously. “You forget, I’ve meet your paramours.” Christian made an obscene gesture in his direction, and Seamus could not stop himself from adding, “Did you learn that from one of your so called ‘ladies’?”

“Sod off, McCurren.”

Seamus chuckled, thoroughly enjoying himself for the first time all day.

≈

Juliet had no idea how long she had been sitting in the drawing room when Felicity suddenly appeared at her side. “Dearest, it is time to dress for dinner.”

Juliet wiped her eyes of any lingering tears and then stood up to face her concerned cousin. “Would you mind having my dinner sent to my room, Felicity. It has been a trying day.”

Felicity nodded with understanding, and Juliet left the drawing room with the intention of going to her bedchamber. Yet, Juliet knew if she were alone in her room, she would cry, so she walked instead to the quiet of the conservatory.

The room was dark, lit only by the moon, and she preferred it that way. Juliet made sure to sit on a bench not visible from the conservatory doors. This room had always soothed her and she regretted not having learned more about the plants flourishing in the lovely openness of the glass-lined room.

Juliet raised both brows, thinking she would have plenty of time to study botany now that she was ruined.

She did not mind the rebuff of polite society, never really having cared for the constant balls and events. She enjoyed the music and dancing well enough, but much preferred smaller gatherings with close friends.

No, there was only one thing about being a ruined woman that Juliet suspected she would never truly get over.

She wanted children.

Not as many as Felicity wanted, mind you. Juliet did not think her temperament was particularly suited to a large brood, but she desperately wanted some children. A boy and a girl would have been ideal.

But Juliet knew she would never have children.

She herself had been the legitimate child of a scandalous father and that was difficult enough to overcome. She would never subject a child to the burden of being the illegitimate offspring of a scandalous mother.

Unfortunately, this also meant that she would have to swear off men. And Juliet rather liked men. She was mad about them, in fact, their lovely arms and muscled chests, even their masculine smell.

And she liked the way they thought, direct and to the point.

Juliet had always felt much more comfortable speaking to men. The inane chitchat that women seemed to have mastered drove her completely mad.

Juliet had to admit she was looking forward to working in the Foreign Office. Although she would have to be careful with the men with whom she worked. While Felicity attracted men and offers in mass quantity, Juliet was not without charm to certain gentlemen. Usually, lecherous older gentlemen, but as the years of her miserable ruined life droned on, they might at some point come to look quite appealing to a thirty-year-old virgin.

However, the war with France would be decided before then, one way or the other. Juliet’s services would no longer be needed and she would no longer be thrown together with attractive gentlemen like Seamus McCurren.

Juliet’s brows furrowed, surprised by her own carnal thoughts.

To be fair, the man was stunningly handsome. She had always been attracted to tall men, perhaps because she herself was just this side of short. When they had entered his office today and those long legs were outstretched with buckskins hugging his muscular thighs, Juliet had taken a moment to enjoy the sight.

But the thing she found most attractive about Seamus McCurren had been his eyes. His eyes were a complex blend of colors that in some way reflected the complexity of the man. She had looked into his golden eyes both at the Spencer ball and today but was unable to divine what the man was thinking and that rarely ever happened to her.

Juliet did not particularly like the sensation.

Nor did she like the fact that the man seemed able to see straight into her mind.
Oh, God!
She wondered if the arrogant Mister McCurren knew that she found him attractive?

That would be the final blow to her pride.

Thank the lord the Scot was such an ass.

Come to think of it, the more time she spent in his office, the less attractive Seamus McCurren had become. No, Juliet would go to the Foreign Office, analyze documents, and go home, making sure to avoid any gentlemen she did find appealing.

She was looking forward to the work. It sounded extremely interesting, particularly this new code that had been found by one of Falcon’s men, but not yet deciphered. Her mind would then be occupied with this puzzle and not the painful encounter with Robert Barksdale.

Robert.

His picture formed in her mind and tightened her chest painfully. Robert was the first man to truly take an interest in her, and she did not know if that would ever happen again. Robert enjoyed her humor and her company, and had even begged kisses from Juliet on more than one occasion, making his attraction to her clear.

But his asking her to become his mistress had betrayed every moment of their friendship, making Juliet wonder if he had ever truly understood her as she thought he had, as she hoped that he had. Robert Barksdale had said that he wanted to marry her and she had wanted to marry him.

Until today.

“Juliet?” Felicity called from the conservatory door. “Are you in here, dearest?”

“Yes.” Juliet sighed, rising.

“Your dinner is being taken to your sitting room,” Felicity informed her, knowing the location of her favorite spot in the conservatory. “You are going to eat?”

“Of course I am, Felicity.” Juliet smiled halfheartedly. “I have to be well nourished if I am to be of any use to the Foreign Office tomorrow morning.”

Felicity nodded. “They are fortunate to have you.”

And she, Juliet lamented, was very fortunate to have them.

~

The
proprietor of Dante’s Inferno walked into room number four and stared down at the side of the nude man tied to the corners of the four-poster bed. The man turned his rust colored head, grinning with anticipation until he saw that it was not the whore he had paid to ride him.

“Who the hell are you then?” the man growled. “I bloody well did not pay to be watched.”

“I’ve no intension of watching you rut, Major Campbell.” Enigma walked to a wooden chair next to the well-used bed. “And to answer your question, I am the owner of this establishment.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve paid my fee, and if you’re wanting to rob—”

Enigma chuckled. “I don’t want your money, you simpleton.”

“What do you want then?” the man asked, lifting his head off the bed.

“Information.” The man stilled and Enigma smiled at the understanding in the major’s bloodshot eyes before proceeding with the interrogation. “You told my whore that you are enjoying your last night of freedom prior to being transported to the Peninsula. What is your regiment’s destination?”

“Our destination?” Rage contorted the major’s lean face and he yanked against the ropes securing his wrists. “You’re a bloody collaborator!”

“More of an opportunist,” Enigma said, reaching for a lamp and carefully allowing three drops of oil to drip on the man’s chest before setting a candle to the shiny liquid.

Major Campbell screamed, the distinct stench of burning hair filling the small room. Enigma waited a moment longer then snuffed out the small fire consuming the man’s flesh, looking him in the eye.

“You will tell me what I wish to know, one way or the other, and then I will kill you. However, I will give you this choice, Major Campbell.” Enigma lifted the full lamp, the thick oil sloshing beneath the glass. “We can spend hours in one another’s company before I ultimately set you alight. Or you can tell me the information I wish to know now.”

The major was trembling with pain as he glanced at the melted flesh on his chest and hesitated for only a moment before saying, “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Enigma left the room some ten minutes later and turned toward a large guard waiting in the brothel corridor.

“Send Chloe into room four, and when they have finished fornicating, kill Major Campbell. Use opium and then dump the major’s body near one of the dens.”

“Why not just kill him now?”

“Really, Mister Collin, we’re not a pack of thieves.” Enigma laughed, dumfounded. “The major did pay for a ride.”

“My apologies.” The guard lowered his dark head in submission, the scar on his cheek a gleaming contrast to the rest of his face.

“I shall send for Chloe straight away.”

“Excellent, and then come to my office,” Enigma ordered, already calculating the next move. “I have another article to submit to the
Herald
.”

Seamus McCurren arrived in his office at precisely half past eight the following morning.

He had come at such an ungodly hour to ensure that the location of the desk provided the inconvenient Lady Juliet was placed where he wished it to be.

Well, that was not entirely accurate, for he wished it to be located in the corridor. But if he was to be shackled with the harpy, then he would damn well position her desk as far away from him as was possible.

“Good morning, James.” His secretary glanced up from his desk, stunned to see Seamus arriving so early. He staunchly ignored the man’s surprise, opening the inner office door and asking, “A cup of coffee, if you ple—”

The words dispersed in his mouth at the sight of Juliet Pervill sitting behind a small desk that had been placed in front of the office window. Her chestnut hair was twisted in a severe chignon at the back of her neck and she wore a gray gown that made her skin appear as drab as the dress.

The lass glanced up and nodded politely toward Seamus while speaking to James Habernathy. “Have you located the documents I requested?”

“Uh.” Mister Habernathy looked toward Seamus for assistance. “No, ma’am, I was just on my way to prepare Mister McCurren’s morning coffee.”

Seamus raised a triumphant brow and acknowledged the woman’s unwanted presence. “Good morning, Lady Juliet.” Then making clear that James was
his
secretary, he said, “Black would be fine.”

The lady’s light blue eyes flashed and she set her gaze on Seamus. “Surely, this late in the day Mister McCurren is in no need of refreshing?” Then her eyes pierced his discomfited secretary. “And do you not think it more urgent, Mister Habernathy, that our office deals with the security of this country before the comforts of its occupants?”

James paled and Seamus took pity on the poor man. “You may retrieve my coffee when you have finished gathering the documents so”—he turned his head and met the woman’s unflinching gaze—“
urgently
needed by Lady Juliet.”

“Yes, sir,” James said, leaving before the lady had an opportunity to take a second bite.

Annoyed, Seamus sat down and turned to face the bothersome creature.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me,
Mister
McCurren,” she began, having caught his slight, “the details of the discovery of the E code?”

Hackles raised, Seamus lifted his head and spoke over his right shoulder. “As his lordship has no doubt told you, the anomaly appeared four times in three publications, which—”

“Means the mathematical probability of a consistent printing error is highly unlikely,” she finished, as if reading his mind. “Yes, I agree.”

“I am so pleased our conclusions meet with your approval,” he said, picking up a new report in need of analysis.

Seamus had not even read half the page when he saw the tiny woman standing beside his tidy desk. “And you have found no pattern in these articles?”

He sighed and looked up at the lass, her dusting of freckles more visible as she stared down at him.

“No.”

“And you have found four anomalies printed in three publications over the past two months?”

“Yes.”

“May I see them?” the lady asked, failing to take the hint.

Unaccustomed to having his findings questioned, Seamus met her clear eyes, holding them. “There is no pattern in those articles, Lady Juliet.”

“Nevertheless.” The girl smiled. “I would like to read them.”

Seamus handed her the clippings, knowing that she would find nothing in them.

“Do let me know your conclusions,” he said, smiling before returning to the document on his desk and completely ignoring her.

The woman mercifully wandered off and he heard not a peep from the opposite side of the room until James Habernathy returned to the office with a stack of newspapers and a laden luncheon tray, both of which he set atop the lady’s small desk.

“Lady Felicity sends luncheon with regards.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of her,” Lady Juliet remarked as though she had just been invited to tea. “Thank you so much for bringing it to me, Mister Habernathy.”

“Not at all,” James said with considerable pleasure, adding an overly reverent inclination of his head.

Annoyed at his secretary’s lack of loyalty, Seamus continued to read while ignoring the subtle clanking of bone china ringing in his ears. However, what he could not ignore were the delicious aromas wafting in his direction from the opposite side of the all-too-small room.

“Well.” He rose, his stomach suddenly very empty. “I’ll just leave you to dine.”

As Seamus walked from the room, he could feel Lady Juliet’s hostile gaze ushering him out of his own bloody office.

He closed the door, thinking that summarized the problem with the entire arrangement. How was he to concentrate with the woman glancing over his shoulder at every turn?

The lass had not been there half a day and she was already distracting him from the critical work that needed to be done.

Seamus ate his midday meal alone at his club; all the while trying to decide how long he should wait before informing Falcon that this forced partnership was unacceptable.

A week? Yes, that would be enough time for him to assert that he had truly made an effort to work with Lady Juliet.

A week!
God in heaven.

Seamus rolled his eyes as he wandered back to his office, his steps increasingly languid. He eventually opened the outer-office door but James was nowhere to be found. Seamus placed his hand on the knob of the inner-office door and took a deep breath, opening it.

He was startled to find Lady Juliet not at her desk as he had left her, but on her hands and knees with multiple newspapers spread across the dingy wooden floor.

The woman looked up excitedly and opened her mouth to speak. But upon seeing Seamus, she closed it and looked down at the papers again. He watched her glance from one page to another, her large blue eyes growing wider as she read.

Then he heard the office door open and the old man stepped past Seamus with James Habernathy at his heels.

“Well?” Falcon asked the girl.

Lady Juliet jumped up and smiled like a child bursting with a newly discovered secret. “I’ve found something.”

Seamus stiffened and he remembered to close his mouth.

“Show me,” Falcon ordered, wasting no time.

“This morning I had requested that Mister Habernathy obtain copies of the newspapers in which the four anomalies first appeared.”

“Yes,” Falcon nodded, following.

“As I waited for the papers, Mister McCurren was kind enough to give me his clippings of the articles and informed me that there had been no pattern evident in any of them.”

Seamus cringed at her kind assessment of the exchange.

“Having read Mister McCurren’s essays on the repetitive sequencing of languages . . .” Shocked, Seamus glanced at the tiny woman. “I knew that he was most assuredly correct. So, I began to examine the newspapers as a whole.”

“Do get on with it, Lady Juliet,” the old man demanded, impatient.

“These two anomalies”—she pointed with her feminine finger—“here and here, appear in the same publication. While these anomalies”—she pointed toward the two remaining newspapers—“appear in different publications.”

Seamus found himself walking toward the newspapers, his heart racing with anticipation as he stared down.

“But if you will note the dates on which the anomalies appear in the same publication . . .” How could he have been so stupid? “They both appear in the first week of the month,” she concluded.

“It is not a coded message at all,” Seamus said, turning to look at the astute woman. “It’s a—”

“A marker.” She nodded, encouraging his comprehension.

“Forgive me, but I do not understand,” Falcon said, and the lady explained.

“Both of these E anomalies occur in the same publication during the first week of the month. This one”—she pointed—“was printed in a different publication in the second week and that one was printed in the fourth week.

“All the French need do is read this publication the first week, this one the second”—the girl twirled her hand—“so on and so forth.

“If the E anomaly appears in any of these three publications, then the French agent knows he has information ready for retrieval. Markers have been used as far back as the Mesopotamians when they—”

“Are you saying, Lady Juliet, that we must now identify their retrieval site?” Falcon asked, decidedly discouraged.

“I’m afraid so.” The lady nodded in apology of being the barrier of bad tidings. “But, of course, it could be a physical location rather than a separate publication. We simply do not have enough information to draw those conclusions.”

“Lady Juliet is correct,” Seamus was pained to admit. “We must first begin by identifying the last marker published in the third week of the month. We can eliminate these three publications.” Seamus looked at the floor. “And as all of these are daily newspapers, I would recommend we begin with a search of the remaining daily publications in town.”

“Exactly,” Juliet Pervill agreed with a vigorous nod.

“I shall have James compile a list of all daily newspapers,” Seamus said, thinking aloud. “And then I will do an analysis of the most likely candidates for the third marker.”

“We,” Lady Juliet chimed in.

Seamus glanced down at her, confused. “Pardon?”

“We . . . ‘will analyze the most likely candidates for the third marker.’” She held his eyes.

“Yes, of course,” Seamus conceded, his stomach tightening. “‘We’ will analyze the information.”

“Very well, keep me apprised of your progress,” Falcon said to them both and then turned to the lady, asking, “How did we ever manage without you, my dear?” The old man nodded in approval. “Well done, very well done indeed.”

Seamus tried not to feel the blow to his pride, but he should have identified the markers himself.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Falcon left the office and Lady Juliet glanced at Seamus, embarrassed.