Kitabı oku: «Regency High Society Vol 3»

Regency HIGH–SOCIETY AFFAIRS

Beloved Virago Anne Ashley

Lord Trenchard’s Choice Sylvia Andrew

The Unruly Chaperon Elizabeth Rolls

Colonel Ancroft’s Love Sylvia Andrew

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Beloved Virago

Anne Ashley

About the Author

ANNE ASHLEY was born and educated in Leicester. She lived for a time in Scotland, but now makes her home in the West Country, with two cats, her two sons, and a husband who has a wonderful and very necessary sense of humour. When not pounding away at the keys of her word processor, she likes to relax in her garden, which she has opened to the public on more than one occasion in aid of the village church funds.

Chapter One

January 1815

Despite the vast improvements to many of the roads, the majority of those who could well afford to journey about the land remained unwilling to suffer the discomforts of winter travel unless the trip was totally unavoidable. Consequently Miss Katherine O’Malley had found no difficulty in attaining rooms for herself and her maid the previous afternoon, when a strengthening wind and the threat of snow had persuaded her to veer on the side of caution and seek refuge in a superior posting-house. Fortunately at some point during the night the wind, having changed direction, had eased considerably, and Katherine had woken to discover a landscape prettily laced with only the finest covering of snow and bathed in watery winter sunshine.

After glancing out of the window to view the highly encouraging sight of a carriage bowling along the road, Katherine returned her attention to her companion in time to see a freshly baked roll, liberally covered with jam, being consumed with relish, and succumbed to an imp of pure mischief.

‘Most people might be forgiven for supposing that the substantial amount of strawberry preserve with which you manage to coat your bread would succeed in sweetening your disposition, Bridie. But I have known you far too long, and therefore do not hold out much hope.’

The instant she had swallowed the last mouthful, Bridie showed no reluctance in responding in kind. ‘And to be sure ‘tis a mystery to me how anyone with a tongue sharper than a barber’s razor could have the brass-faced nerve to criticise an easygoing soul like myself.’

Reaching for her coffee cup, Katherine silently acknowledged the truth of what her lifelong companion and self-appointed protector had said. Ashamed though she was over this undeniable flaw in her character, the fact of the matter was that she had never been afraid to speak her mind, not even as a child.

Regardless of the fact that in recent years she had attempted to control her occasionally ungovernable temper, she was still sadly inclined on occasions to wound with a cutting barb, and remained impatient of folly. This did not mean, she sincerely hoped, that she had become so intolerant, so self-willed, that she wasn’t prepared to listen to the views of others. At least, she amended silently, she would always try to take account of the feelings of that plump and loving female who had taken care of her with such touching devotion for a score of years and more.

‘We should be with your aunt and uncle by early afternoon, providing we suffer no further mishap.’ Bridie tutted. ‘But I’ll say it again, Miss Katherine, ‘tis plain daft to be gadding about the country at this time of year.’

A tender smile went some way to dimming the teasing gleam in Katherine’s strikingly coloured blue-green eyes. ‘You know full well why I was determined to make the trip.’ She paused to sample the contents of her cup. ‘You didn’t truly expect me to forgo the pleasure of celebrating my cousin’s engagement, and enjoying the company for a week or so of the only family I have left in the world, simply because of the few discomforts I must be prepared to suffer in travelling at this season of the year?’

‘I know you well enough, Miss Kate, to be certain sure that when your mind is set on something there’s no reasoning with you, and that you had every intention of attending the party. Though why in the world your cousin couldn’t have arranged to become betrothed in the spring, like any sensible girl, when the weather is warmer and law-abiding souls can journey about the land without fear of becoming stranded, I’ll never know!’

‘It wasn’t through choice, as you’re very well aware,’ Katherine reminded her. ‘Caroline’s future husband is a soldier. Captain Charlesworth wouldn’t be able to obtain leave at the drop of a hat. He still has duties to perform, even though the war with France is now, hopefully, at an end.’

‘To be sure, that’s true enough,’ Bridie acknowledged, before transferring her gaze to the clock in the corner of the private parlour, and rising to her feet. ‘And I suppose we ought to be thinking of making a move, if you wish to arrive in plenty of time to have a wee rest before the party. The weather’s fine at the moment, but there’s no saying it’ll remain so. I’ll away now to check our overnight bags have been returned to the carriage, and arrange for the postboys to have the vehicle waiting at the door.’

After nodding assent, Katherine remained for the time it took to put on her bonnet and collect her reticule and gloves from a side table, and then followed her Irish maid’s example by going out into the coffee-room, where she discovered only the landlord lurking in the shadows.

Eager to recommence the journey, she wasted no time in settling her bill, and then made her way towards the front entrance, slipping her purse safely back inside her reticule as she did so. Consequently she didn’t observe the tall gentleman, swathed in a voluminous grey cloak, entering the inn, and promptly collided with what felt like a solid wall of bone and muscle. Air left her lungs in a rush, and it was only the two long-fingered hands which immediately clasped her upper arms which saved her from reeling from the impact.

‘I’m so very sorry, ma’am. I trust you are unhurt?’

The deep voice clearly betrayed concern, and Katherine didn’t hesitate to assure him, the instant she had regained her breath, that she had suffered no real harm. ‘And it was as much my fault as yours, sir,’ she added, graciously accepting her share of the blame, ‘for I wasn’t attending where I was going.’

The continued clasp of strong hands was oddly reassuring, and strangely reminiscent of a certain someone’s touch in the dim and distant past. Katherine raised her head, only to find the breath leaving her body in a faint gasp for a second time as she gazed at the swarthy, wholly masculine features looming above.

For a moment it was as much as she could do to stare into thickly lashed, dark eyes, as she tried ineffectually to capture an elusive memory. She saw them widen fractionally, clearly revealing a hint of appreciation in their warm brown depths, as they calmly began to scan every contour of her face. Although not precisely unaccustomed to receiving admiring glances from members of the opposite sex, she was forced silently to own that there was something both faintly disturbing and remarkably engaging about the directness of this tall gentleman’s unwavering gaze.

He seemed reluctant to release her, but after a further unsettling moment he allowed his hands to fall to his sides. ‘Are you certain you are all right, ma’am? Perhaps I should summon the landlady. You are a little pale, if I may say so.’

‘I am perfectly well,’ she assured him swiftly, if not quite truthfully. ‘But I thank you for your concern, sir.’

Bemused by the peculiar sensations this enigmatic stranger had somehow managed to evoke, Katherine successfully slipped past him and out into the crisp morning air. Fortunately he made no attempt to detain her further, but she could almost feel those attractive, almond-shaped eyes boring into her back as she hurried across the forecourt to the waiting carriage.

‘Why, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost!’ Bridie remarked the instant her young mistress had scrambled into the post-chaise and had begun to make herself comfortable on the seat opposite.

‘I feel as if I’ve just seen one,’ she didn’t hesitate to admit. ‘Did you happen to notice that tall gentleman who entered the inn a few minutes ago?’

‘Can’t say as I noticed a soul, miss. Why, was it someone you know?’

Katherine frowned in an effort to remember, for there was something there still lurking in the dim recesses of her memory which she just could not capture. ‘He seemed oddly familiar, yes. But for the life of me I cannot imagine where I’ve seen his face before—certainly not in Bath, I feel sure.’

‘And was it a handsome one?’ Bridie couldn’t resist asking, thereby earning herself an impatient glance.

‘I wouldn’t have described it so, no. He was attractive, certainly, but not what I would call handsome.’ Katherine paused to straighten the skirt of her dark blue carriage dress. ‘Not that it would have made a ha’p‘orth of difference to me if he had been a perfect Adonis.’

‘No, I know it wouldn’t!’ Bridie retorted, with the speed of a striking snake. ‘And we both know why, don’t we?’

Katherine elected not to answer, and turned her head to stare resolutely out of the window, a clear indication that she considered the conversation at an end. Unfortunately the action didn’t prevent her from thinking about her maid’s prompt rejoinder.

She didn’t suppose for a moment that Bridie had intended to be heartlessly cruel. It was not in the woman’s nature. In fact, the opposite was true. Bridie, loving and unfailingly loyal, had always been there to offer comfort and encouragement. Which was possibly just as well, Katherine reflected, for she sometimes felt she would never have survived the many heartaches she had suffered in recent years without the constant support of that occasionally infuriating and frequently overprotective Irish woman.

It was from Bridie, who had been there to witness the event, that Katherine had learned that she had been born during what had been one of the worst storms to hit Ireland in living memory. While the high wind had been battering the country, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake, Charlotte O’Malley had been giving birth to a daughter, a protracted and agonising ordeal that had almost brought about her own death and had resulted in her not being able to have any more children.

Oh, yes, she had indeed been a scourge to those close to her since the day of her birth, Katherine reflected dismally. Although blissfully unaware of the fact during her idyllic childhood, she had been forced to accept in recent years, after the series of tragic events which had struck her life, that she did indeed bring ill fortune to those for whom she cared most deeply. Only one person seemed immune to the lethal Katherine O’Malley curse.

She couldn’t prevent a tiny sigh escaping as she instinctively cast a glance at the plump, middle-aged female seated in the opposite corner of the carriage. It would be foolish to hope that any prospective husband might be similarly protected, and Katherine certainly had no intention of burdening her conscience further by encouraging the advances of some poor unsuspecting male. It was perhaps fortunate, therefore, that her silent resolve never to marry had not been tested thus far.

During the six years she had lived in Bath, she had been introduced to numerous very personable gentlemen, and yet not one had ever succeeded in arousing in her more than a faint interest. Not once had she ever experienced the pull of mutual attraction … At least, she silently amended, never until today.

She couldn’t deny that she had felt oddly drawn to that tall gentleman back at the inn. His touch had been strangely reminiscent of her father’s—gentle, yet wholly protective. It was perhaps just as well that their paths were unlikely ever to cross again, for she very much feared that the enigmatic stranger might be just the type of man who would test her resolve to remain a spinster to its limits.

* * *

By early afternoon, when the hired carriage had pulled up outside her aunt and uncle’s charming house in Hampshire, Katherine had succeeded in thrusting the brief encounter with the disturbing stranger from her mind. After being admitted to the house by Meldrew, the very correct manservant, and discovering that both her aunt and cousin were at home, Katherine removed her outdoor garments and, leaving Bridie to take charge of the unpacking, went directly into the comfortable parlour where she discovered the two female members of the Wentworth family happily engaged in their favourite occupation.

Mrs Lavinia Wentworth, raising her head at the opening of the door, betrayed her delight by a warm smile. Setting aside her sewing, she was on her feet in an instant, her arms outstretched in welcome. ‘How lovely to see you, my dear!’ she announced, after placing a kiss on the face which so closely resembled her dear, departed sister’s.

After returning the embrace with equal warmth, Katherine turned to the only other occupant of the room, who betrayed no less delight at her arrival. ‘You look blooming, my dear Caro. Captain Charlesworth is a lucky man! I trust everything is in readiness for the party tonight?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Caroline assured her. ‘Mama and I have been busy all week finalising the arrangements. We are expecting around a hundred guests. And I’m so very glad that you are to be among them. When you failed to arrive yesterday, both Mama and I began to fear that you had changed your mind, and didn’t choose to risk making the journey, after all.’

Eyes glinting with unholy amusement, Katherine sat beside her pretty cousin on the sofa. ‘My, my! What a feeble creature you must think me! I might be almost three years your senior, Caroline, but I’m not in my dotage quite yet. No, it was merely that a threat of snow yesterday afternoon forced me to take shelter at a posting-house. That, and a desperate need to silence the dragon-lady’s continual carping.’

Knowing precisely to whom her niece had referred, Mrs Wentworth could not forbear a smile. Although Katherine had grown into the image of her lovely mother, she had inherited her wonderful dark auburn hair and blue-green eyes, made more striking by dusky brows and lashes, from her Irish father. She certainly favoured her sire in temperament too, for she possessed a fine Irish temper and could be quite outspoken on occasions. ‘Bridie has only your best interests at heart, Katherine,’ she remarked. ‘And I must confess that it has relieved my mind during these past years knowing that she has always been there to care for you.’

Katherine chose not to comment, for although she valued Bridie highly, there had been occasions, most especially in recent months, when she had found her loyal Irish maid’s continual cosseting increasingly irritating. So, instead, she changed the subject by enquiring into the whereabouts of Caroline’s elder brother. ‘Is Peter not here at present?’

‘No, he’s back at university, although he did spend Christmas with the family,’ Caroline enlightened her. ‘To be frank, I believe he was relieved to be going. I do not think he quite relished the prospect of having to aid Papa in entertaining the dowagers this evening.’

Katherine cast a glance brimful of wicked amusement in her aunt’s direction. ‘And does my esteemed uncle look forward to such an onerous duty, I cannot help asking myself?’ she remarked, knowing full well that Henry Wentworth, although a most agreeable, warmhearted gentleman, was not disposed to socialising to any very great extent.

Reaching for the tambour frame once again, Mrs Wentworth could only admire her niece’s perspicacity. ‘I think it would be more truthful to say that he is resigned to the task expected of him, Katherine. Unless I much mistake the matter, when he rode out a little earlier it was for the sole purpose of calling on a neighbour of ours, Sir Giles Osborne, in order to enlist the baronet’s aid.’

His wife’s suspicions were uncannily accurate, for Henry Wentworth had set out for Osborne House, and was at that moment enjoying a glass of burgundy in the company of his friend.

‘I have already assured you that I shall not fail to attend,’ Sir Giles answered in response to the heartfelt request. ‘My sister would never let me hear the end of it if we didn’t put in an appearance. We shall arrive promptly at eight, and you may rely upon my unfailing support.’

‘You’re a good friend, Osborne.’ Mr Wentworth tugged at his cravat, as though it had suddenly grown uncomfortably tight. ‘Don’t mind admitting that I’m not relishing the prospect of entertaining a pack of fiendish harridans.’

Sir Giles, a master at concealing both thoughts and emotions, permitted himself a thin smile. ‘The Dowager Lady Charlesworth is certainly a formidable matron. It is something of an enigma how she and that apathetic late husband of hers ever managed to produce two such well-balanced, engaging sons. I know you and Lavinia must be delighted with the match. Richard is an agreeable young man and a credit to his regiment.’

Unlike his sister, who enjoyed nothing better than a comfortable coze, Sir Giles only ever indulged in small talk when it was to his benefit to do so. Today, however, he was prepared to exert himself a little more than usual in an attempt to prevent his amiable neighbour from brooding unnecessarily over the ordeal ahead of him.

‘I have every faith in that charming wife of yours to be sure that everything will run smoothly this evening.’ There was no response, though Mr Wentworth, looking moderately more relaxed, did lean back in the chair and stretch his feet out towards the blazing fire. ‘I seem to remember my sister remarking that almost everyone who received an invitation has accepted. And the weather appears to be favouring you thus far.’

‘Yes, thank the Lord! At least we haven’t had snow, except …’ The worried frown returned. ‘My wife’s niece didn’t arrive yesterday as expected. Which makes me wonder whether the rest of the country is so fortunate, and bad weather might be heading our way.’

‘Had she far to travel?’ Sir Giles enquired, striving to maintain a polite show of concern, even though his interest in the unknown female was zero.

‘From Bath. My daughter will be very disappointed if she doesn’t arrive. Caroline simply adores her. My wife does too, come to that! Lavinia has been trying to persuade Katherine to make her home with us for the past twelve months, but without success. Still …’ he shrugged’… the girl seems happy enough to remain in the house left to her by her great-aunt. And it isn’t as if she’s a chit straight out of the schoolroom. She’ll attain the age of three-and-twenty later this year. And she doesn’t reside alone. There’s a companion living in the house, and an Irish maid who is devoted to her.’

‘Evidently her parents are dead,’ Sir Giles remarked, successfully stifling a yawn.

Henry Wentworth confirmed this with a solemn nod of his head. ‘Yes, it was all very sad. It so happens that her father was approached by the government to take a cargo of horses out to Portugal in readiness for the arrival of the British expeditionary force in the summer of ‘08. There was no better man at breeding or handling horses than Liam O’Malley. The craft he was on met up, as previously arranged, with two other vessels that had left England, also carrying urgently needed supplies. They were attacked by the French just off the Bay of Biscay.’

His expression changed, and he suddenly appeared more angry than sad. ‘Damn it! Where was the British Navy? Where was that promised protection, that’s what I’d like to know? Some damned mix-up at the Admiralty was what we were told! Apparently they had received information stating that the cargo vessels wouldn’t be setting sail for another ten days.’

Only for a moment did a speculative gleam flicker in the baronet’s steely-grey eyes as he digested these disturbing facts. ‘Yes, that does seem strange.’

‘Deuced odd!’ Mr Wentworth agreed. ‘My wife’s poor sister never recovered from the shock of losing her husband. She died a few weeks later after contracting a simple chill which went to her chest, and my father-in-law, Colonel Fairchild, went over to Ireland and brought Katherine back to live with him.’ Again he shook his head. ‘Poor little mite was just beginning to recover from her parents’ deaths when the Colonel suffered a fatal heart attack.’

‘Indeed, your niece is to be pitied,’ Sir Giles acknowledged, whilst momentarily wondering why the name Fairchild should seem vaguely familiar.

‘She was in Bath at the time. The old Colonel considered the girl was in dire need of a little polish, as you might say, and packed her off to live with his spinster sister so that she might attend a seminary. The house in Bath now belongs to Katherine, and she’s comfortably circumstanced. I can vouch for that, as I’m one of her trustees. Although she cannot touch so much as a penny piece of the money she attained from the sale of her father’s sizeable property in Ireland, and the money her grandfather left her in his will, until she attains the age of five-and-twenty, her great-aunt, Augusta Fairchild, ensured that she will live very agreeably until then.’

Once again Sir Giles found his interest in this unknown young woman swiftly waning, and experienced a modicum of relief when his butler unexpectedly entered to announce the arrival of another visitor. He was on his feet in a trice, surprising his neighbour somewhat by betraying a degree of delight when a tall gentleman, his muscular figure swathed in a voluminous grey cloak, came striding purposefully into the book-lined room.

‘Ross, my dear boy! This is an unexpected pleasure!’

The new arrival betrayed no similar joy as he shook the baronet’s proffered hand, although Mr Wentworth noticed a less hard set to Major Daniel Ross’s well-shaped mouth when the visitor was introduced to him.

‘Just a flying visit, Osborne,’ the Major announced. ‘I’ve a letter here from Cranford, which I undertook to deliver personally as I was making a trip to the capital in order to attend a reunion dinner with some fellow officers and spend some time with a particular friend, and therefore wouldn’t be inconvenienced too greatly by the slight detour.’

‘Thank you, my dear boy,’ Sir Giles responded, as he relieved the Major of the sealed missive and consigned it to the safety of his jacket pocket.

‘Cranford? Would that be the Honourable Charles Cranford, a member of Parliament?’ Mr Wentworth asked, thereby regaining his neighbour’s attention.

‘Why, yes,’ Sir Giles confirmed. ‘Are you acquainted with him?’

‘Not personally, no. But I dealt with my late father-in-law’s estate after he died, and unless I much mistake the matter it was none other than Charles Cranford who purchased the Colonel’s house in Dorset.’

‘Ah, yes! You may possibly be right, Wentworth. And that is perhaps why the name Fairchild seemed vaguely familiar to me,’ Sir Giles confessed, before casting an enquiring glance in the Major’s direction. ‘Young Daniel, here, should be able to enlighten us. Also he ought to be able to set your mind at rest over the state of the roads in the west.’

Although betraying mild surprise, the Major didn’t hesitate to assure Mr Wentworth that, although there had indeed been a light covering of snow overnight, all the main routes were passable. ‘I set out before dawn, and had no trouble whatsoever in reaching Andover, where I ate a late breakfast. And to answer your first query—yes, Charles Cranford did purchase the late Colonel Fairchild’s property. My home is situated close by. I knew the Colonel very well.’

‘Good Lord! It is a small world, indeed!’ Mr Wentworth exclaimed. ‘You must be acquainted with my wife Lavinia, the Colonel’s younger daughter. Although,’ he added, as he saw dark brows draw together above the Major’s faintly aquiline nose, ‘I expect you were a mere boy when we married and she moved away from the county.’

‘I remember that the Colonel had two daughters, sir. But as you remarked, it is a long time since last I set eyes upon either of them.’

‘Well, sir, I’m certain my wife would enjoy seeing you again. She retains fond memories of that part of the country. In fact,’ he added, as a thought suddenly occurred to him, ‘we’re holding a party this evening. Why not come along? You’d be most welcome. I know Lavinia would enjoy nothing better than chatting over old times.’

‘First, let us see if we cannot persuade him to remain long enough to enjoy a glass of wine,’ Sir Giles intervened, sensing that Major Ross was on the point of declining Mr Wentworth’s kind invitation.

Quickly finishing off the contents of his own glass, and refusing a second, Mr Wentworth cast a brief glance at the mantel-clock, which clearly informed him that it was time he was heading homewards. ‘And I must be on my way. Hope to see you at the party tonight, Major.’

‘He genuinely means it, Ross,’ Sir Giles assured him, the instant his neighbour had departed. A ghost of a smile once again flickered about his thin lips. ‘Not that I suppose for a moment that I could influence your decision one way or the other, but you’re most welcome to put up here for the night. It would grant us the opportunity to reminisce pleasurably over old times.’

The Major’s dark eyes were brightened by a decidedly cynical gleam, as he accepted the glass of burgundy, and lowered his tall frame into the chair recently vacated by his host’s neighbour. ‘You will forgive me for saying so, Osborne, but I cannot recall that our dealings were ever precisely enjoyable.’

‘You are thinking of that delectable French filly, Justine Baron, I do not doubt.’ Sir Giles settled himself in the chair on the opposite side of the hearth, and gazed meditatively down at his glass. ‘Undeniably that must rate as my greatest failure. I came so close to catching him then.’

‘Are you certain that she would have kept to her part of the bargain?’ the Major asked, sounding decidedly sceptical, and after a moment the baronet nodded his head.

‘I could of course have attained the information I wanted by—er—other means. But in Justine’s case I chose to be merciful. She did not become a spy through choice, but because she was forced into it, although she was well paid by her country for her services. There was only one thing Justine loved above money … and that was her sister. We kept to our part of the bargain, and I’m certain in my own mind she would have kept to hers by revealing that British traitor’s name, if the devil hadn’t discovered where I’d hidden her. I knew even then it had to be one of two people. That belief has not changed. Nor my resolve to unmask the rogue.’

The look in the Major’s eyes contained neither sympathy nor encouragement. ‘The war is over.’

‘It might be for you, Ross,’ Sir Giles countered, reaching into his pocket for the letter his companion had kindly taken the trouble to deliver. ‘But there are still a few of us remaining who are determined to see justice done.’

He took a moment to apprise himself of the contents of the missive before returning it to the safety of his pocket. ‘Cranford writes to inform me that he is organising a party at his home at the beginning of April, and has, it seems, been successful in persuading several— er—interesting people to attend. Will you be among the guests?’

‘Possibly,’ the Major answered, clearly unwilling to commit himself.

‘By the by, I had heard that you’d sold your commission,’ Sir Giles remarked with an abrupt change of subject. ‘What will you find to do with yourself now your career in the army is at an end?’

‘Look after the property I’ve neglected for far too long.’

‘Ah! So those old, festering wounds have finally healed, have they? I’m glad to hear that you are ready to settle down.’

Daniel stared intently into the baronet’s shrewd eyes. ‘My God!’ he muttered, experiencing a mixture of anger and grudging respect. ‘Not much ever escapes you, does it, Osborne?’

Just a hint of smug satisfaction crept into Sir Giles’s expression. ‘I have endeavoured over the years to ensure that not much ever does. And since you are to attend a reunion dinner you must have brought suitable evening attire.’

‘Only my dress uniform,’ Daniel disclosed.

‘Excellent! Then there’s no reason why you shouldn’t attend the party tonight.’

Chapter Two

‘I think I shall wear the pearls, Bridie,’ Katherine decided, after studying her overall appearance in the full-length mirror.

Although Bridie’s apron had covered many duties over the years, including those of nursemaid, housekeeper and cook, she was also a very proficient lady’s maid, and Katherine was delighted with the more elaborate arrangement of her auburn curls. She was satisfied too with her choice of gown for the special evening ahead. She had wished to look her best for the occasion, and considered the dark green velvet dress suited her very well, its soft folds emphasising the shapely slen-derness of her figure, while its colour subtly enhanced the green in her eyes.

‘I think we chose wisely when we selected this new gown,’ she remarked, seating herself once again at the dressing table in order that Bridie, several inches shorter, might fasten the pearl necklace more easily, while she herself concentrated on securing the matching earrings to her small lobes. ‘It makes me appear neither a chit just emerged from the schoolroom, nor yet a female at her last prayers.’

Bridie could not help smiling to herself at this candid admission. Her young mistress was so lacking in conceit that she could never be made to appreciate just how very lovely she was. Blessed with delicate, regular features, and a trim shapely figure, she had little difficulty in igniting a glint of admiration in the vast majority of masculine eyes, even in those not disposed to admire her particular colouring. ‘You look lovely, Miss Katherine.’

This sentiment was echoed a few moments later when Mrs Wentworth entered the bedchamber to bear her niece company down to the large salon where the party was to be held. ‘Every time I look at you, Katherine, I am struck by the resemblance you bear your dear mother,’ she admitted, not reluctant to disclose the thoughts that had passed through her mind shortly after her niece’s arrival earlier in the day.

Katherine, her eyes shadowed by a moment’s bitter regret, cast a surreptitious glance up at her aunt through the dressing-table mirror. Undeniably her mother had been the far prettier sister. None the less, she might have wished that her mother had possessed some of her younger sibling’s strength of character. Her dear aunt, Katherine felt sure, would not wither like an exotic bloom touched by the first frost if—God forbid!—anything should ever happen to her husband. Lavinia Wentworth would fight and survive for the sake of her children.

‘And you resemble your maternal grandmother too, now I come to consider the matter,’ Mrs Wentworth added. ‘Little wonder dear Papa was so very fond of you!’

‘And I was very fond of him,’ Katherine was not slow to confess. ‘My one bitter regret is that we were not given the opportunity to enjoy each other’s company for a great deal longer.’

‘Yes, I too feel that was a pity,’ her aunt agreed softly. ‘My father, I clearly remember, very much appreciated modesty in our sex. Surprisingly enough, though, he also admired intelligent women who were not afraid to voice their opinions. He would have found much pleasure in your company, my dear.’

Katherine couldn’t prevent a wry smile at this, as she cast a brief glance in her maid’s direction. ‘You are the second person today who has remarked on the fact that I am not afraid to speak my mind,’ she admitted, rising to her feet, and entwining her arm through her aunt’s. ‘However, I promise to be on my best behaviour this evening, and will endeavour to keep a firm hold on my occasionally ungovernable tongue.’

Katherine then accompanied her highly amused aunt downstairs to the large salon, there to discover both her cousin, looking bright-eyed and excited, and her uncle, noticeably less so, hovering near the door in readiness to receive their guests.

Captain Richard Charlesworth, accompanied by his family, and a large party of friends, was the first to arrive, and very soon afterwards Katherine, without quite knowing how it had come about, found herself seated beside Caroline’s future mother-in-law.

Possibly because she had had experience of dealing with haughty, opinionated matrons, her great-aunt Augusta having possessed a somewhat vitriolic tongue, Katherine was disposed to be more amused than annoyed by the Dowager Lady Charlesworth’s blunt manner and caustic remarks. Added to which, Katherine was determined not to do or say anything that might lessen her sweet-natured cousin’s enjoyment of what, quite naturally for Caroline, was a very special occasion. Consequently she bore with great fortitude the dictatorial matron’s company for a full twenty minutes, and was even gracious enough to agree to partner the Dowager in a rubber or two of whist later, before cunningly engineering her escape.

‘Do not allow my mama to monopolise you, Miss O’Malley,’ an amused voice whispered in her ear, and Katherine turned to discover the newly engaged couple standing directly behind her.

Caroline bestowed a look of mild disapproval upon her future husband. ‘Now that we are officially betrothed, I think you might be a little less formal with my cousin, Richard.’

‘I should be delighted to comply, providing Miss O’Malley has no objection, that is?’

Katherine was not slow to assure him that she had none, for she very much approved of her cousin’s future husband, appreciating his gentlemanly and unaffected manners. ‘I assume that you two have abandoned your positions by the door in order to lead the first set of country dances.’

‘We have indeed,’ Caroline confirmed. ‘And I had better warn you now that you are unlikely to be sitting by the wall yourself for any length of time. All of Richard’s army friends are intent on securing you for a partner.’

‘And I dare swear I shall be too weak-willed to refuse,’ Katherine responded with more tact than truth, for unlike the majority of her sex she had never been drawn to a gentleman merely because he happened to be sporting a scarlet coat. Nevertheless, she felt obliged to add, as she glanced about the room at the numerous dress uniforms on display that evening, ‘I believe it is grossly unfair to permit officers to attend parties wearing regimentals. They look so very smart and dashing that they cast those in plain evening garb quite into the shade.’

‘They do indeed,’ Caroline agreed, before catching sight of a new arrival wearing a very striking dark green uniform of almost exactly the same shade as her cousin’s lovely dress. ‘Who is that, Richard? Surely not a cavalry officer?’

‘No, indeed, m’dear. That is the uniform worn by riflemen. Can’t say I recognise the fellow, though.’ He appeared genuinely intrigued. ‘There’s a few minutes wanting before we need take the floor. If you will both excuse me, I’ll go over and discover who he is.’

‘Mama appears very well pleased to see him, at any rate,’ Caroline was not slow to observe, after Richard had departed. ‘He’s with Sir Giles Osborne’s party. I wonder who he is? I’ve certainly never seen him before.’

Katherine cast the merest glance over the distinguished, grey-haired baronet and the middle-aged lady clad in a rather startling orange gown, before focusing her attention on the well-muscled gentleman sporting the smart green regimentals. ‘Great heavens!’ she muttered as he turned at Richard’s approach, and she saw his features clearly for the first time. ‘It cannot be …’

Caroline regarded her cousin with slightly raised brows. ‘Are you acquainted with him, Katherine?’

‘Yes … no … well, I’m not sure. But I do believe he’s none other than the gentleman I bumped into earlier today when I put up at that posting-house. What a coincidence!’

Once again Katherine found herself teased by that elusive memory annoyingly playing hide-and-seek in the recesses of her brain, while at the same time experiencing a rather startling surge of pleasure at seeing him again so unexpectedly. She watched his approach with keen interest, admiring the fluid way he moved, the way he seemed to stand out from the other gentlemen present. Then, for the second time that day, she found herself gazing up into those attractive dark eyes, which clearly betrayed recognition.

‘It would seem, ma’am, Fate has decreed our paths should cross again.’ The deep voice was no less pleasing than the warmth of the smile which instantly softened the harsh contours of a wholly masculine countenance.

Katherine discovered herself automatically placing her fingers in the hand reaching out to her, just as Richard said, ‘Miss Katherine O’Malley, may I present Major Daniel Ross, an officer whose courage is admired throughout the British Army.’

With the name pounding against her temples like so many torturous hammer blows, Katherine withdrew her hand so abruptly from the Major’s gentle clasp that anyone observing the action might have been forgiven for supposing that her fingers had just been burned. That she had been so stupid as not to recognise at once a man whom she had secretly despised for years added to her swiftly mounting rage, and it was only the vow she had made to behave with the utmost propriety throughout the evening that prevented her from releasing the tumult of emotions warring inside in a blistering tirade.

With praiseworthy self-control, Katherine quietly excused herself, and sought immediate refuge in the room allocated for the female guests’ private use. Having discovered it blessedly empty, she slumped down on one of the chairs, her thoughts racing back over the years to those few short months when she had lived in her grandfather’s charming house in Dorsetshire, and had struck up a close friendship with the daughter of one of his nearest neighbours, Helen Rushton.

Looking back, she now realised that their similar sufferings had been the bond which had drawn them together, swiftly turning friendship into a deep sisterly affection, for Helen’s father, serving in his Majesty’s Navy, had also perished at sea.

Helen had confided in Katherine from the first. Always eager to share her most private thoughts, she had revealed her rapidly deepening attachment to a young gentleman who, after living abroad for several years, had returned to the area, and who had recently acquired a commission in the army. Every time Captain Daniel Ross had paid a visit to Helen’s house, Katherine had been regaled with a detailed account of what he had said and how long he had remained.

Undoubtedly Helen had been totally besotted, and then utterly devastated when she had discovered that Captain Ross, rakishly free with his favours, had been paying numerous visits to a dashing young widow living in the locale. Having to face the fact that she had not been the sole object of the Captain’s desire had been a grievous blow from which poor Helen had never been granted the opportunity to recover.

The door quietly opening put an end to these sombre reflections, and Katherine was not unduly surprised to see her cousin slip quietly into the room.

‘Are you not feeling quite the thing? Do you wish me to summon Mama, or Bridie?’

The prospect of having her lifelong bodyguard fussing about her like some demented hen was all it took to restore Katherine’s equilibrium. ‘Whatever for? I’m in no danger of fainting, I assure you. I have merely received a most unpleasant shock, that is all.’

‘But what on earth overset you?’ Caroline was utterly bewildered and it clearly showed. ‘One moment you were looking so radiantly happy to be making the acquaintance of Major Ross, and yet in the next—’

‘Kindly do not remind me of my shortcomings!’ Katherine interrupted, acutely annoyed with herself, if the truth were known, for betraying such unbecoming delight.

Rising to her feet, she began to pace the floor, a sure sign to those who knew her well that she was doing her utmost to maintain a firm control over herself. She had no desire to cause any unpleasantness during the evening by making her intense dislike of the Major generally known. Nor did she wish to run the risk of joining the ranks of those contemptible gossipmongers who did not scruple to ruin reputations. Yet, at the same time, she felt that Caroline deserved some explanation for her odd behaviour towards the Major.

Raising her eyes, she discovered her cousin regarding her intently, and decided to settle on a compromise. ‘You are possibly not aware of it, Caroline, but Major Ross was well acquainted with our grandfather. Whilst I resided in Dorsetshire, he paid several visits to Grandpapa’s house—’ her smile was twisted ‘—as well as visiting several others in the area. I discovered that his reputation where our sex is concerned is not precisely stainless. Not to put too fine a point on it, he is nothing more than a callous philanderer who isn’t above breaking the odd heart or two,’ she finished, anger momentarily overriding her resolve not to slander the Major.

‘Good heavens!’ Caroline muttered faintly, while taking advantage of the chair conveniently positioned directly behind her. ‘Are you certain about that? I do not mean to doubt you,’ she hurriedly added, swiftly recognising the telltale glint of annoyance in her cousin’s blue-green eyes. ‘But you were quite young when you lived with Grandfather. Might you have misunderstood the rumours about him?’

‘Yes, I might,’ Katherine was forced to concede, though it almost choked her to do so. ‘Now is not the time to be discussing this, however. Come, let us return to the party, otherwise that handsome fiance of yours will justifiably blame me for depriving him of the pleasure of leading you out on to the floor.’

As they re-entered the salon, Katherine was not unduly surprised to discover Captain Charlesworth still bearing the Major company. For her cousin’s sake she was prepared to be polite and rejoin the gentlemen for a short while, and then slip quietly away in order to mingle with the other guests, thereby neatly avoiding comment.

Unfortunately, this ideal scheme was foiled at the outset, for no sooner had they arrived back at the gentlemen’s sides than the musicians struck up a chord, announcing the commencement of dancing, and Katherine found herself, much to her chagrin, quite alone with the person whom she had stigmatised as the biggest beast in nature for almost six years.

‘I trust you are feeling a little better now, ma’am?’ he remarked, breaking the short silence that had ensued after the engaged couple’s departure. ‘If I were a fanciful man I might imagine that it was my sudden appearance which had the power to overset you.’

Suppressing the strong desire to walk away without uttering a word, Katherine forced herself to meet a gaze that she might have supposed contained a deal of genuine concern had she not known better. Heartless philanderers did not worry themselves unduly over the feelings of others, she reminded herself, resolved to be polite but no more.

‘Disabuse yourself of that notion, sir. I am not so easily overset.’

Much to her surprise, Katherine saw the Major’s eyes narrow fractionally at her cool tone. She might dislike the man intensely, but she was obliged to acknowledge that he was no fool. Unless she much mistook the matter, he sensed the antagonism raging within her and was more than slightly puzzled by it.

It was quite evident that he hadn’t recognised her, not even her name. This in itself did not strike her as in any way odd. After all, she mused, transferring her gaze to those taking part in the dance, she had only ever spoken to him once in her life before today.

Her grandfather, Katherine recalled, had retained some rather antiquated views, and even though she had attained the age of sixteen he had considered her a mere child. Consequently she had never been invited to join her grandfather when he had been entertaining guests. None the less, Katherine clearly remembered coming face to face with Captain Ross, as he had been then, just once, when she had happened to be in the stable-yard when he had arrived at the house. It was unlikely, however, that he would remember such an insignificant occasion, when he had taken the trouble to pass the time of day with someone whom he also had undoubtedly considered a mere child.

‘Miss Wentworth and Captain Charlesworth make a charming couple, do they not?’ he remarked, once again breaking the lengthening silence.

‘They do indeed, sir,’ she agreed, momentarily forgetting her animosity, as she continued to follow the engaged couple’s progress down the floor, noticing in particular the way Caroline smiled lovingly up at her handsome fiance whenever they came together in the set. ‘They are well matched, and very much in love.’

She expected him to say something further, if only to maintain the conversation. When he made no attempt to do so, curiosity got the better of her. She turned back to look at him, and was slightly disconcerted to discover him staring at her intently, before his expression was softened by the winning smile of a practised seducer.

No, she must never lose sight of what he was, she reminded herself. Even so, she was forced silently to concede that, had he truly been a complete stranger, he would have been the very last person she would have stigmatised as a hardened rake. He seemed so earnest, so reliable, the kind of person to whom one instinctively turned in time of trouble. Which just went to show that one should never judge by appearances!

‘Do you hail from this part of the country, Miss O’Malley?’ he asked, while his eyes flickered momentarily over the arrangement of her curls.

‘No, Major. I lived for many years in Ireland. However, I now reside in Bath.’

Having decided that she had now conformed to the rules governing polite behaviour, and could leave Major Ross to his own devices with a clear conscience, Katherine was on the point of excusing herself when the dance came to an end and he forestalled her by requesting her to partner him in the next set.

Those good intentions deserting her completely, Katherine weakened to an imp of pure mischief. With a smile of artificial sweetness curling her lips, she looked him over from head to toe. ‘Believe me, Major Daniel Ross, nothing in this world would ever induce me to stand up with you. I have made it a rule only ever to take the floor with those gentlemen sporting scarlet coats.’

Beneath their half-hooded lids, brown eyes began to sparkle with a distinctly menacing gleam. ‘That decision, if you’ll forgive my saying so, ma’am, betrays a shocking lack of judgement for one with your particular shade of hair.’

Only partially successful in suppressing a squeal of indignation, Katherine could quite cheerfully have boxed his ears, and swung away before the temptation to do so became too great.

Daniel, following her almost flouncing progress across the room with narrowed, assessing eyes, found himself experiencing both annoyance and puzzlement in equal measures. How anyone could be radiant and smiling one moment, then offhand and disdainful the next, treating a fellow as though he were a pariah, he would never know. But there again women, he reminded himself, were a law unto themselves, unpredictable and totally illogical!

He continued to watch her as she headed towards the room set out for cards, certain in his own mind that she would have left him far sooner had the opportunity arisen, and might not have conversed with him at all if she could possibly have avoided doing so. But why? Why had she taken him in such swift dislike?

He shook his head, at a loss to understand the workings of the female mind. When Captain Charlesworth had first brought him over, Miss O’Malley had betrayed clear signs of delight at coming face to face with him again so unexpectedly. He had found that initial reaction so very refreshing. She had made not the least attempt to dissemble, to pretend their paths had never crossed before. Then, quite suddenly, she had grown pale, and a look akin to loathing had flickered momentarily in those striking turquoise eyes before she had slipped quietly away.

Undeniably, Charlesworth and his delightful fiancee had been as mystified as he had himself at such odd behaviour. Yet when Miss Wentworth had returned, her face had worn a decidedly thoughtful expression, as though she were not quite certain about something. But what could she possibly have learned to his discredit during that brief absence? He had never met either young lady until today … or had he?

‘Something appears to be troubling you, Major,’ a smooth voice remarked, and Daniel discovered Sir Giles hovering at his elbow, looking remarkably well pleased about something.

He was instantly suspicious, for he knew well enough that the man beside him was not quite what he seemed. He had the utmost respect for Sir Giles’s acute intellect. None the less, if their association during the past years had taught Daniel anything, then it was not to trust the well-mannered, silver-tongued baronet an inch.

‘I swear, Osborne, that you were a cat in some former life. Like the pampered feline who lazes in the most comfortable spot in a room, you appear sublimely content. Yet, it would come as no great surprise to me to discover that you sleep with one eye permanently open.’

Sir Giles’s shoulders shook in silent, appreciative laughter. ‘Ah yes! Cats—remarkable creatures, are they not? I hold them in the highest regard. Lying quietly in wait to strike when least expected, they do their utmost to rid this world of ours of loathsome vermin.’

Extracting his silver snuffbox, Sir Giles made use of its contents before returning the elegant trinket to his pocket, while all the time his eyes stared through the open doorway leading to the card-room. ‘Lavinia Wentworth’s niece is a strikingly lovely young woman, do you not agree, Major Ross?’

Daniel followed the direction of the older man’s gaze in time to see his former companion taking a seat at the table occupied by a forbidding matron sporting an ugly turban of puce satin. ‘I did not realise that Miss O’Malley was related to our hostess,’ he admitted, eyes narrowing. ‘Then her maternal grandfather was none other than …’

‘Colonel Fairchild,’ Sir Giles finished for him, when the Major’s voice faded. ‘I understand that she lived with him for a short time. I thought perhaps you knew her.’

How very interesting! Daniel mused, his mind racing back over the years. Then it was just possible that he had met Miss O’Malley in the dim and distant past, though she must have been little more than a child at the time, for Colonel Fairchild had been dead for a number of years.

‘Such glorious hair, do you not agree?’ Sir Giles remarked, successfully recapturing his companion’s attention. ‘I myself have always had a particular weakness for auburn-haired fillies.’

‘Oh, you have, have you?’ Daniel did not believe a word of it, and wasn’t reticent about making his own views clear. ‘Well, I certainly have not! The few I’ve come across during my lifetime have all been devious little firebrands—totally unpredictable and not to be trusted. And Miss O’Malley has certainly not induced me to alter my opinion!’

It had taken Katherine a minute or two only to become aware that those of her fellow guests who were drifting into the card-room were keeping well clear of the table where she and the Dowager Lady Charlesworth now sat. Several wicked possibilities occurred to her for this deliberate avoidance, all of which were most definitely to the formidable Dowager’s discredit. She was just beginning to come to the conclusion that it was unlikely that there was anyone among the guests brave enough to challenge Lady Charlesworth, when a shadow fell across the table, and she found herself meeting the steely gaze of the distinguished-looking gentleman who had arrived with the disreputable Major.

‘Ah, Osborne!’ There was a distinct note of approval in the Dowager’s booming voice, which gave Katherine every reason to suppose that the baronet would prove to be a worthy opponent. ‘Come to challenge me and my young partner, have you? Well, sit down! Sit down, man! Have you met Miss O’Malley?’

‘I understand that you are Mrs Wentworth’s niece,’ he remarked, after Lady Charlesworth had made the introductions so loudly that Katherine was fairly certain that, had anyone else in the room been ignorant of her identity before, such was no longer the case.

Katherine nodded. ‘My mother was her elder sister, sir.’

‘I also understand that you reside in Bath.’

‘Yes, sir. I have lived there for a number of years.’

‘But not alone, I trust,’ the Dowager put in, looking faintly disapproving.

It would have afforded Katherine the utmost pleasure to inform the dictatorial lady seated opposite that her domestic arrangements were entirely her own concern, but having given way once to her occasionally volatile temperament, she had no intention of doing so again. It would have afforded her even greater pleasure to be able to say that she did live quite alone. Unfortunately she could not do so.

‘No, ma’am,’ she admitted. ‘My late aunt’s former companion still resides with me.’

‘Very proper,’ the Dowager approved, before turning her attention to Sir Giles and demanding to know if he had secured himself a partner.

‘My sister will be joining us, ma’am… Ah! And here she is, ready to do battle.’

It would have been hard to find a less formidable-looking opponent, Katherine decided, as she watched the middle-aged lady, dressed in the startling orange-coloured gown, nervously twisting the strings of her reticule round her fingers as she seated herself at the table.

The baronet’s spinster sister put Katherine in mind of the companion whom she had unfortunately inherited from her late aunt. Poor Miss Mountjoy, always eager to please, whilst bracing herself for the inevitable cutting remarks, had always displayed the same degree of nervous tension, whenever in her late employer’s presence, as Miss Mary Osborne was betraying now.

Katherine well expected the Dowager, undoubtedly fashioned in the same mould as the late Miss Augusta Fairchild, to utter some blistering remark. Yet, surprisingly enough, apart from sniffing rather pointedly as she cast disapproving eyes over the dazzling orange creation, which clashed alarmingly with her own puce gown, she refrained from comment. Which gave Katherine every reason to suppose that the mouse-like Miss Osborne, though lamentably lacking an eye for fashion, had somehow managed to earn the formidable Dowager’s approval.

This certainly proved to be the case, for Miss Osborne was undoubtedly a very skilful card player, and her partner no less so. They easily won the first game, and Katherine found herself having to concentrate very hard, which was no easy matter when she was having to contend with her partner’s hard-eyed scrutiny, and the frequent, penetrating steely-grey-eyed glances she found herself receiving from the baronet. None the less, her nerve, though sorely tested, held firm, and she and her partner won the second game, and took the first rubber convincingly with the final game.

‘I knew I chose wisely when I selected you for my partner, Miss O’Malley,’ Lady Charlesworth boomed approvingly. ‘A female who can hold her nerve, eh, Os-borne?’

‘It would certainly appear so, ma’am,’ he answered softly, his eyes once again firmly turned in Katherine’s direction. ‘Miss O’Malley appears to possess all the necessary requirements … Yes, she might prove to be an excellent choice.’

Chapter Three

I’ve been giving some thought to what you disclosed on the evening of my engagement party.’

The surprising admission succeeded in capturing Katherine’s attention, and she transferred her gaze from the spot beyond the parlour window, where the morning’s continuous rain had succeeded in creating a huge puddle on the terrace, to her cousin, who had been industriously plying her needle for the past half-hour. ‘About what?’ she prompted.

‘About Major Ross.’

The immediate response did not precisely please Katherine. Although his name had never once been mentioned within her hearing since the night of the party, she had been irritated by the number of times he had managed to encroach into her thoughts.

‘Before he returned to London Richard happened to mention,’ Caroline continued, ‘that Wellington himself thought very highly of the Major, and used him on many important missions.’

‘His bravery is not in question,’ Katherine pointed out, striving not to sound waspish. ‘I merely maintain that he is a heartless wretch who cares naught for the feelings of others.’

‘I’m not so certain you’re right about that,’ Caroline argued. Highly complaisant and sweet-natured though she was, she wasn’t afraid to voice an opinion if she held strong views on a subject. ‘I found myself in his company on more than one occasion during the evening of the party. I have to own, I rather liked him, even though I found his conversation a little—how shall I put it?—forthright. But Richard assured me that seasoned campaigners do tend to be plain-spoken and a little abrupt. And the Major was kind enough to fetch me a cup of fruit punch.’

‘Oh, well, that just goes to prove I misjudged him entirely, doesn’t it?’ Katherine rolled her eyes ceiling-wards. ‘Any gentleman who would fetch a lady refreshments must surely be a paragon of all the virtues!’

‘Furthermore,’ Caroline continued, smiling faintly at this blatant sarcasm, ‘Richard did furnish me with one tale about the Major that he’d heard from a fellow officer. Seemingly, appalling atrocities took place after our troops were successful in storming Badajoz. Major Ross, by all accounts, offered his protection to the wife of some French officer. I do not know all the details, you understand, because Richard didn’t consider it a suitable topic to discuss in my company. Nevertheless, what he did disclose was sufficient to convince me that any gentleman who would put his life at risk to protect a lady’s virtue must be a very honourable man. Which makes me wonder whether what you were told about him years ago was completely true.’

‘We do not know for certain that the story of his heroism at Badajoz is true either,’ Katherine pointed out. ‘You know how these tales are much embellished in the retelling.’

‘Mama was talking with him a good deal at the party. We could always ask her if she knows anything about his exploits,’ Caroline suggested, just as the door opened, and Mrs Wentworth herself entered the parlour.

Although Katherine had no wish to engage in a discussion about someone whom for years she had been happy to stigmatise as a heartless lecher, her cousin, evidently, was not of a similar mind, for Caroline hardly waited for her mother to settle herself comfortably in a chair, before she asked outright whether she was well acquainted with the gallant Major.

‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, dear,’ Mrs Wentworth responded, reaching for her embroidery. ‘When I left Dorsetshire to marry your father, Daniel was merely a boy, no more than six or seven, though I do remember his father very well. Edwin Ross was such a charming gentleman, and extremely astute. And Daniel, I feel, has grown into his image in both looks and character.’

Somehow managing to suppress a snort, Katherine made a supreme effort to concentrate on the book lying open on her lap, and ignore the ensuing conversation between mother and daughter. Unfortunately she was only moderately successful, and one interesting disclosure had her and her equally astonished cousin exchanging startled glances.

‘I didn’t realise that Major Ross was Grandpapa’s godson,’ she freely admitted.

‘Oh, yes, dear,’ her aunt confirmed. ‘Your grandfather and Edwin Ross had been friends since boyhood, and Daniel was very fond of dear Papa. Papa frequently mentioned in the letters he wrote how much he missed his godson’s visits when Daniel went out to India.’

This appeared to capture Caroline’s attention in a big way, for she immediately set aside her sewing. ‘Major Ross has been to India? Oh, what exciting lives gentlemen lead!’

‘I do not know whether Daniel himself found the experience so very rewarding,’ her mother countered, ‘in view of what took place during his absence.’

Although Katherine doggedly refused to betray further interest, she was not unduly sorry when her cousin demanded to know what precisely had happened during Daniel’s travels abroad.

‘His father passed away just a year after Daniel had set sail for India. Although his uncle, Sir Joshua Ross, did write promptly, informing him of the tragic news, it quite naturally took some time before the letter reached him. And if that was not bad enough, when the poor boy did eventually return, it was to discover that his childhood sweetheart, Julia Melrose, had married Sir Joshua’s son Simon just a few months before.’

‘Oh, poor Major Ross!’ Caroline exclaimed, and Katherine, much to her surprise, found herself experiencing a twinge of sympathy too, and could not resist asking whether there had ever been anything official between them.

Lavinia Wentworth shook her head. ‘I do not believe Julia’s parents were averse to a match. Daniel, after all, was the son of a wealthy landowner, and therefore quite eligible. I believe the Melroses considered that it wouldn’t hurt to wait a year or two before giving their consent to a marriage. Daniel himself had only just turned twenty when he set sail for India. I suppose he considered it would occupy his time until he could officially ask for Julia’s hand.’

Caroline cast a puzzled glance across at her mother. ‘But if Julia Melrose was truly in love with Daniel, why on earth did she agree to marry Simon Ross?’

‘That I couldn’t say, my dear. I do know that Julia, Simon and Daniel had known one another all their lives and had frequently played together as children, but from what I have gleaned over the years from the many friends I still have living in the area, Julia always showed a preference for Daniel’s company. Most people, including your grandfather, expected them to tie the knot one day.’ She shrugged. ‘One can only imagine pressure was brought to bear on Miss Melrose to marry Simon. After all, he was the one who had been destined to hold the title, not Daniel.’

Mrs Wentworth sighed and shook her head. ‘Whether the marriage was happy or not, I couldn’t say, but it certainly proved fruitful. Julia gave birth to a son some five or six years ago, if I remember correctly. One cannot help but feel saddened that the union was brought to an abrupt end. Simon Ross, sadly, was killed whilst hunting in the Shires.’

‘Which leaves the field now open for the Major, as it were,’ Katherine remarked, with just a touch of cynicism that made her aunt smile.

‘It is certainly a possibility that their love will rekindle,’ her aunt acknowledged. ‘He has, so I understand, never betrayed the least interest in marrying anyone else, even though his name has been linked with several—er—females over the years.’

Out of the corner of her eye Katherine saw her cousin glance in her direction, as though expecting her, now that the opportunity had arisen, to pass some remark, and she swiftly decided not to disappoint her. ‘I clearly remember that, when I resided in Dorsetshire for those few short months, Captain Ross, as he was then, betrayed an interest in a close neighbour of Grandpapa’s—Helen Rushton.’

‘Helen Rushton?’ her aunt echoed, frowning slightly. Then her brow cleared. ‘Ah, yes, I remember—Hermi-one Rushton’s girl!’ The frown returned. ‘Are you positive he was interested in her, Katherine? She must have been a mere child at the time.’

‘She was seventeen.’

Mrs Wentworth’s expressive brows rose this time. ‘Yes, I suppose she must have been. So very sad, her dying so young. I remember Mrs Rushton very well—a sweet woman, but something of a dreamer and not very bright. I recall your grandfather mentioning once that Helen had become very like her mother.’

Until that moment Katherine had never considered that Helen had been very immature for her years. Looking back now, however, she was silently forced to own that her friend had been something of a dreamer and might well have imagined that Daniel Ross had been betraying an interest in her.

Swiftly thrusting this traitorous thought aside, she said, ‘I also recall, Aunt, that he was displaying marked attention towards a young widow in the locale.’

‘Very likely, my dear. He could only have been twenty-three or-four at the time. I doubt his intentions were serious. Gentlemen rarely are at that age. And you must remember he had suffered a grievous blow over Julia Melrose. When I spoke to him at the party I gained the distinct impression that he is more than ready to settle down now, however. He is quite wealthy, so should have no difficulty in finding himself a wife.’

Caroline’s soft brown eyes glowed with a distinctly hopeful look. ‘Although it is unlikely that Major Ross will ever inherit the title, it is not impossible that he and his childhood sweetheart might one day find happiness together.’

Whether or not it was because she had never fallen in love herself, or that she simply didn’t possess her cousin’s romantic streak, Katherine was not sure, but her interest had already swiftly begun to wane. The ex-Major’s present romantic inclinations were of absolutely no interest to her. Consequently she experienced no compunction whatsoever in changing the subject by voicing something which was of far more concern to her, if a trifle mundane.

‘I sincerely hope the weather improves by tomorrow. I do not relish the prospect of returning all the way to Bath in the pouring rain.’

‘I wish you were not going back so soon, Katherine. Cannot Mama and I persuade you to remain a little longer?’

Katherine, smiling fondly at her cousin, shook her head. ‘I should dearly love to stay another week or two, Caro, but my conscience will not permit it. I have already left poor Clarissa Mountjoy to her own devices for two weeks.’

‘I think it was highly unfair of Aunt Augusta to foist that distinctly foolish female on to you, Katherine,’ Lavinia Wentworth announced, with a rare show of annoyance. ‘She is engaged as a companion and resides in your home for the sole purpose of ensuring that you, an unmarried female, are suitably chaperoned at all times. Yet I swear it is you who takes care of her. It is a fine duenna indeed who cannot bring herself to travel more than a mile or two because she fears becoming queasy!’

A further fond smile touched Katherine’s lips as she looked across at her aunt. ‘Believe me, Aunt Lavinia, I am not sorry that Mountjoy is afflicted with travel sickness whenever she steps inside a carriage.’ She couldn’t prevent a sigh escaping. ‘I am forced to admit too that I do find her company excessively tedious, for she is undeniably an extremely foolish woman, but she does try so very hard to please. And I would never go back on the promise I made to Aunt Augusta and turn Mountjoy off. The poor woman put up with Great-aunt Augusta’s megrims and ill humours for twenty years. I believe she has earned a little peace and contentment in a house where not too much is expected of her, and she can more or less come and go as she pleases.’

A further sigh escaped Katherine as she finally abandoned her book and set it to one side. ‘I must admit, though, as chaperons go, she could never be described as diligent. I cannot say that I would feel in the least sorry if she did decide to leave, and I could employ someone of my own choosing.’

‘I doubt there is much chance of that,’ her aunt warned. ‘I fear, my dear, that you have made the woman’s life far too agreeable since Aunt Augusta’s death for her to wish to take up another post.’

‘You are possibly quite right,’ Katherine agreed. ‘But there is just a glimmer of hope on the horizon. Mountjoy received a letter from her widowed sister a month ago, inviting her to make her home with her. Needless to say I would be delighted if she does decide to leave, but I am resolved that it must be her decision.’

‘You would have no need of a chaperon if you chose to make your home here with us,’ her aunt reminded her.

Katherine had wondered how long it would be before the subject was once again raised. Her aunt had asked her on several occasions to make her home in Hampshire, and Katherine had always neatly avoided giving a firm answer. It was not that she felt she would be unhappy living with her aunt and uncle, for she was fond of them both, and adored both her cousins. Nor was she afraid that the little independence she had acquired would be drastically curtailed, for her aunt was such an easygoing soul who would willingly allow her to do more or less as she pleased. No, stupid though it might be, she was afraid to take up permanent residence under this roof; afraid that, as had happened so often in the past, she would bring ill fortune to the household if she were ever to remove here.

‘That is certainly true, Aunt,’ she agreed, her warm smile concealing quite beautifully those deep-rooted fears that had continued to torment her in recent years. ‘But I would never dream of inflicting Mountjoy on you. And even if I should be lucky enough to persuade her to accept her sister’s kind offer, there is still Bridie to consider. There is not the remotest possibility that I shall ever be able to persuade that fiendish woman to take up another post. I know I shall be cursed with her company for life! She is the most self-opinionated, domineering creature imaginable! If once she takes up residence here, you’d swiftly find her ruling the roost in the servants’ hall, and your own staff leaving your employ.’

Mrs Wentworth frankly laughed. ‘Oh, I know Bridie can be a little outspoken on occasions, and is certainly not what one might describe as a conventional domestic, but I for one, as I’ve mentioned before, have always felt very relieved that she has been there to take care of you, Katherine.’

She looked up as the door opened to see her butler enter the room, carrying a small silver tray. ‘Yes, what is it, Meldrew?’

‘A letter from Osborne House for Miss O’Malley, ma’am,’ he answered, presenting Katherine with the tray. ‘The footman is still here, awaiting a reply, miss.’

Surprised, Katherine removed the missive, which did indeed bear her name in bold, elegantly constructed letters, and broke the seal. ‘Good heavens!’ she exclaimed, after running her eyes over the few lines. ‘I’ve been invited to take tea with Sir Giles and his sister this afternoon at three o’clock.’

She handed the note across to her aunt. ‘Have you anything planned for the afternoon, Aunt Lavinia?’

‘As a matter of fact, dear, Lady Charlesworth plans to call. But, in any event,’ she added, after scanning the brief missive, ‘it would seem the invitation is for you alone.’ She did not appear in the least offended, as her next words proved. ‘I’m rather relieved. I should not have wished to cause offence to either Sir Giles or his sister by refusing. In the circumstances, however, I feel I must remain here, as I have already assured Lady Charlesworth that her visit will be most welcome.’

Katherine was far from convinced that her aunt’s assertion was one hundred per cent true. If her cousin’s expression of comical dismay was any indication, poor Caroline certainly wasn’t looking forward with any real conviction to her future mother-in-law’s proposed visit. Caroline, of course, had little choice in the matter; Katherine, on the other hand, most definitely had. She considered she had more than fulfilled her role as dutiful niece on the night of the engagement party, and had no intention of enduring the formidable Dowager’s company for a further lengthy period.

‘Would you mind very much, Aunt Lavinia, if I accepted the invitation to take tea with the Osbornes? I rather liked Sir Giles—a highly intelligent man who possesses a rather dry sense of humour.’ She chose not to add that she had been less favourably impressed with his sister.

‘Of course I do not object, my dear,’ her aunt assured her before turning to Meldrew. ‘Inform Sir Giles’s footman that Miss O’Malley will be delighted to accept.’

‘My, my, Katherine! You must have made a favourable impression on our reserved neighbour,’ Caroline teased, the instant the butler had withdrawn. ‘Sir Giles is not renowned for socialising to any great extent. He generally keeps himself very much to himself when in the country.’

‘Oh, I do not think that is strictly true, Caroline,’ her mother countered. ‘Sir Giles has always been a most genial man. I do not deny that since his wife and his younger son died, he has tended to be less sociable, but that is only to be expected. Furthermore, his work for the government keeps him in London a good deal.’

Caroline frowned a little at this. ‘Do you know, Mama, I’ve never perfectly understood the nature of Sir Giles’s work. I do not think even Papa understands precisely what duties Sir Giles performs.’

‘Our esteemed neighbour has always been a little vague about it, certainly,’ her mother agreed. ‘I believe he mentioned once that it was something connected with the War Office. I do happen to know that he numbers among the Regent’s close friends. So perhaps one of his duties is to keep our future King abreast of events, though why he should feel the need to spend so much time in the capital now that monster is on Elba, and the war is thankfully at an end, I cannot imagine.’

She frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to her. ‘In fact, I understood your father to say that Sir Giles accompanied Major Ross to the capital on the morning after the party.’ She shrugged. ‘Evidently he must have returned … At least for Katherine’s sake I sincerely hope he has, otherwise she will find herself having to endure his far less sensible sister’s company for an hour or two.’

It required a monumental effort, but Katherine managed to resist the temptation to declare that if it was a choice between spending time in the company of Lady Charlesworth and Sir Giles’s sister, she considered Miss Mary Osborne most definitely the lesser evil!

The Wentworth carriage having been kindly placed at her disposal, Katherine set off on the short journey to Osborne House in good time to reach her destination at the appointed hour. She was looking forward to visiting the home of the man whose company she had very much enjoyed on the evening of the party. She was pleased too that the rain had ceased and the afternoon had been blessed thus far with brief glimpses of an early February sun. She was not, however, precisely overjoyed at being denied the opportunity to make this perfectly respectable visit unaccompanied.

Bridie had taken it upon herself to follow her out to the carriage and had plumped herself down on the seat opposite, that mulish expression Katherine had glimpsed so often in the past taking possession of the homely features.

Katherine turned her head to stare out of the window, lest her own expression betray the mingled resentment and annoyance rippling through her. These were feelings she had experienced increasingly during these past twelve months. Augusta Fairchild might have been an irascible old lady, sharp tongued, and not disposed to consider the feelings of others, but she had not been bound by convention, and had allowed Katherine freedom to do more or less as she pleased. Since her aunt’s demise, however, Katherine had discovered that treasured independence, which one might reasonably have expected to increase now that she had become mistress of her own establishment, had been gradually curtailed by the two females whom she employed.

And it was utterly ridiculous! She inwardly fumed, resolved to do something soon about her far from idyllic domestic situation. These past two weeks in Hampshire had, if nothing else, shown her that one attained far more freedom from living in the country. Weather permitting, she had gone for a walk, sometimes accompanied by her cousin Caroline, and sometimes alone. It was true that on the occasion they had visited the local town they had taken the little housemaid with them. Yet Katherine had hardly known the servant was there. Walking a few paces behind, the maid had barely uttered a word, and had merely carried the few purchases both Katherine and Caroline had made back to the carriage.

How different from the life she had led in Bath! Not once since her great-aunt’s demise had she visited the fashionable shops without having to suffer Mountjoy’s incessant prattling, as she scurried alongside like a timid mouse. Always eager to please, poor Mountjoy more often than not had only succeeded in irritating her so much that Katherine had come perilously close on numerous occasions to releasing her pent-up frustrations by administering a sound box round the ears, and only the promise she had made to her aunt had checked the words of instant dismissal she so longed to utter.

Smothering a sigh, Katherine turned her attention to the woman in the seat opposite. Even if she did manage to resolve the problem of her less than ideal companion, there still remained the even greater dilemma of what to do about the woman who had taken such loving care of her throughout her life. Although she had never been afraid to speak her mind where Bridie was concerned, which had resulted in numerous battles of will over the years, and many harshly spoken words, not for the world would she deliberately hurt the person to whom she was so genuinely attached. Yet somehow she must find a way of convincing Bridie that her one-time charge was no longer in need of leading-strings, but a young, independent woman, quite capable of making her own decisions and, more importantly, of taking care of herself. And there was no better time to embark on this crusade for total independence than right now!

‘I cannot imagine why you felt the need to accompany me on this journey,’ she remarked in a level tone, determined to deny Bridie the opportunity of accusing her of being in a ‘naughty’ temper, which she so often did when Katherine had taken her to task over something.

The mulish expression returned to the homely face. ‘And who would have taken care of you if I hadn’t come along, may I ask?’

‘My aunt’s groom is more than capable of ensuring that I come to no harm.’

‘Pshaw! The great lummox didn’t even think to provide you with a few necessary comforts,’ Bridie retorted, lovingly tucking the fur-lined rug, which she had carried out to the carriage, more securely about her young mistress’s slender legs. ‘I promised your sainted mother on her deathbed that I would always look after her little girl. And I shan’t go back on my word. Bridie will always be here for you, Miss Kate.’

Oh, dear Lord! Katherine inwardly groaned. Although moved by this touching declaration, she was very well aware that the task ahead of her was going to be far from easy. Yet somehow there had to be a way of convincing Bridie that she was now a capable young woman, and no longer a child in need of constant care and attention.

Determined not to be defeated in her objective, Katherine adopted a different tack, as the coachman drew the well-sprung carriage to a halt before the front entrance of the impressive mansion. ‘As you have taken it upon yourself to play nursemaid, you had better accompany me inside. No doubt you will be invited to take tea with the more senior servants.’ She paused after alighting to cast a cautionary glance over her shoulder. ‘So kindly maintain a guard on that unruly tongue of yours for the duration of our visit.’

Bridie, both surprised and incensed at what she considered to be quite uncalled-for strictures, was denied the opportunity to retaliate by voicing her opinion of her young mistress’s frequently caustic utterances by the prompt appearance of the very correct manservant who admitted them to the house.

‘Sir Giles is expecting you, Miss O’Malley. If you would kindly step this way?’ The butler paused, before leading the way across the chequered hall, to cast a faintly superior glance in Bridie’s direction when she appeared about to follow her mistress. ‘I shall ensure that your maid receives refreshments below stairs.’

Hardening her heart against the hopeful expression in those loving, dark eyes, Katherine swept past the door the butler held open. Only then did she begin to wonder if she had not been a little foolish in not insisting that Bridie remain with her, when she noticed that the book-lined room’s sole occupant was Sir Giles.

Rising immediately from behind the desk, he came forward to take Katherine’s hand briefly in his own. ‘My dear Miss O’Malley. My sister and I were delighted that you were able to accept our invitation,’ he announced, before dismissing his servant with the faintest nod of his head. ‘Come, take a seat by the fire.’

A glimmer of amusement flickered in the baronet’s grey eyes as Katherine hesitated. ‘My dear child, I am old enough to be your father, if not your grandfather. Be assured that my sister will be joining us, once she has returned from her trip to town.’

Feeling rather annoyed with herself for so obviously betraying unease, while at the same time thinking it most strange that Miss Osborne should visit the local town when she had invited a guest to take tea, Katherine seated herself in one of the comfortable chairs by the hearth. It was strange too that the butler had shown her in here. Evidently he had been obeying his master’s instructions. But surely it was more usual to invite guests to take tea in the parlour?

After watching her host move across to a small table on which several decanters stood, Katherine glanced about the room. It was a wholly masculine sanctum, which put her in mind of her grandfather’s library in that charming house in Dorsetshire, the main difference being that this room had a second door, left slightly ajar, which possibly led to a small ante-room.

‘Can I tempt you to a glass of Madeira, my dear?’ Again there was a moment’s hesitation on her part which drew a brief smile to Sir Giles’s lips as he poured out a second glass. ‘You came to take tea and yet your host is attempting to ply you with strong liquor. What sinister motive can there be in that? I hear you asking yourself. You are wise to be cautious, child, for this world of ours holds many sinister pitfalls for the unwary. And I did have a specific reason for wishing to see you alone.’

More intrigued than unnerved by this surprising admission, Katherine accepted the glass held out to her, observing as she did so that those shrewd grey eyes, alert and acutely assessing, were regarding her no less keenly than they had on the evening of the engagement party almost two weeks ago.

‘You have striking colouring, Miss O’Malley,’ he remarked, surprising her still further, as he settled himself in the chair opposite, his gaze never wavering from her face. ‘Inherited from your Irish-born father, I should imagine.’

‘Yes, sir,’ she responded, wondering what he would remark upon next. She was not left to speculate for long.

‘I am reliably informed that you and your father were very close. It was a tragedy that he lost his life in the service of his country … But it was a tragedy that was destined to take place long before he had set sail from Ireland.’ Sir Giles saw the slender fingers tighten momentarily round the stem of the glass, and a look appear in the turquoise-coloured eyes which was no less penetrating than that in his own. ‘Ill fortune played no part in your father’s demise. The French had been informed that three vessels loaded with urgent supplies would be setting sail for Portugal on a certain date, and they were lying in wait.’

‘How—how did you discover this?’ Katherine demanded. The heartache she had suffered when she had first learned of her father’s death had never left her, but now a completely different emotion, far stronger than the lingering pain, had swiftly gained supremacy. A despicable traitor had been responsible for the death of her father!

‘I make it my business to know, child,’ Sir Giles responded, smiling grimly. ‘One does not need to don a uniform in order to serve one’s country. And not all one’s enemies are as visible as those on the field of battle.’ The look in his steely-grey eyes grew noticeably harder. ‘Napoleon is in exile on Elba. But my war is far from over, and shall not be so until I have unmasked the heartless devil who, during these past years, has been passing information on to the French.’

Taking a moment to refresh himself, Giles continued to regard her steadily over the rim of his glass. ‘I shall not insult your intelligence by attempting to suggest that the person I am determined to unmask is the very traitor responsible for tampering with the document sent to the Admiralty requesting an escort for the convoy in which your father was destined to sail. There have been a number of agents working for France during these past years. I have a particular interest in uncovering the identity of just one of them, mainly because I was foolish enough once to underestimate him, and in so doing was responsible, in part, for the death of a young Frenchwoman whose knowledge would have proved invaluable in unmasking a cell of agents working in this country.’

Katherine’s gaze remained as steady as her host’s. She now knew precisely why Sir Giles, the secret spy-catcher, had invited her here. ‘You believe that I might prove useful in helping you achieve your objective?’

‘Yes, child, I do. From the moment I first set eyes upon you I was aware of the striking resemblance you bear to the young woman who was murdered whilst under my so-called protection,’ he admitted, his voice surprisingly betraying a hint of regret. ‘I failed her, and that weighs heavily on my conscience. I have no intention of repeating my error. I shall do everything within my power to minimise the risk, but should you agree to assist me it is as well for you to know at the outset that your life would be in danger.’

Leaning back in his chair, Sir Giles regarded her in silence for a moment. ‘Now, before I divulge more, I need to know, Miss O’Malley, whether you are willing to undertake a very great service for your country, which, if successful, might go some way to avenging your father’s demise?’

Katherine didn’t need to take even a moment to decide, but was somewhat startled, after voicing her desire to help in any way she could, when the door leading to the small ante-room was thrown wide and a sparse man in his early forties, accompanied by a woman of similar age, walked calmly into the room.

‘Do not be alarmed, my child,’ Sir Giles advised gently. ‘I wish you to meet Mr Arthur Ashcroft, and his sister Miss Margaret Ashcroft, two of my most trusted associates. They will play a small but vital part in the plan I am about to outline to you. There is one further key player with whom I must make contact, but that can wait for the time being. What we must do now is put our heads together and come up with some scheme whereby you may leave Bath again, and quite alone, in the very near future without arousing the least suspicion.’

A plump, middle-aged figure suddenly appeared before Katherine’s mind’s eye. ‘That, Sir Giles, might prove more difficult than you imagine!’

Chapter Four

Major Daniel Ross laid his head against the back of the chair, and stretched out his long legs in order to rest his feet upon the fender. His time here in Curzon Street, enjoying the hospitality of his good friend Harry Danvers, must soon come to an end. These past few weeks had proved to be highly pleasurable, and some recompense, he supposed, for the many privations he had perforce to endure in recent years.

Undeniably London had much to offer any bachelor of comfortable means. He would have been the first to admit that he had been content to while away the hours in the company of many of those who, like himself, had known the hardship of life out in the Peninsula. There was no denying too that the highly satisfying association with that delicate vessel, short on brains but infinitely skilful in other ways, had assuaged his physical needs and provided a most pleasurable way of passing several evenings and nights. None the less, a totally idle existence was not for him. It was time he returned to his Dorsetshire acres to put into effect those improvements he planned for his house and lands.

After sampling the contents of his glass, he began to contemplate a future that would be in stark contrast with his past. Yet he had no regrets about the decision he had taken to sell his commission and leave the army. He believed he was more than ready now to take charge of his inheritance. The love of the land had taken time to come to him, but it was there now. Which was perhaps just as well, he mused, for there was precious little else in his life at the moment upon which he might shower attention and affection, least of all a woman.

A wry smile tugged at one corner of his mouth before he reduced the contents of his glass still further. Although he certainly hadn’t lived the life of a monk in recent years, no female had succeeded in capturing his heart since Julia had held a place there in his youth. Even now, after all these years, he could well remember how utterly devastated he had been when he had discovered that his childhood sweetheart, the female whom he had considered so perfect in every way, had betrayed his love and trust by marrying his cousin. Had the bitter experience left him hard and cynical, and disinclined to trust another member of her sex? He could not help wondering. Or was it merely that he had searched in vain for a replica?

A slight frown creased his brow. If that was so, why then had he felt nothing within him stir when, after so many years, he had seen Julia again, a few months ago? He would have expected to feel something more than just a faint twinge of nostalgia for the happy hours they had spent together in their youth. Undeniably, time had been kind to her and she was still very beautiful. Graceful and serene, she remained for him the epitome of womanhood. Not like that damnable little shrew who had crossed his path just a few weeks ago! He inwardly fumed, his frown deepening dramatically as the pleasing image of golden locks and limpid blue eyes was unexpectedly thrust from his mind’s eye by a set of quite different features, framed in a riot of deep auburn curls.

He shook his head in a vain attempt to dispel the vision which had too frequently plagued him during his stay in town. That unpredictable little virago typified everything he most despised in her sex! Contrary and sharp-tongued, she was just the type to lash out at a poor, unsuspecting male without the least provocation. Any man who was ever stupid enough even to contemplate taking that ill-mannered minx to wife would deserve all he got! he told himself, wondering why on earth he had been singularly unsuccessful in forgetting her very existence.

The door-knocker echoing in the hall brought these less than charitable musings to an abrupt end, and a minute later his friend’s very correct manservant entered to apprise him that he had a visitor. A quick glance in the direction of the mantel-clock informed Daniel that the hour was well advanced. He had an appointment early in the morning, and had no intention of delaying too long before he sought the comfort of his bed.

‘Did the caller give a name?’ he asked after a moment’s deliberation.

‘He did not,’ a smooth voice answered from the open doorway. ‘But he felt certain that our long and—er—not uneventful association would be sufficient to grant him admittance.’

‘Oh, you did, did you?’ Daniel muttered, before dismissing the servant.

In one lithe movement he rose from the chair and moved towards the decanters. ‘So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit? I thought you had returned to Hampshire?’

‘I did … briefly,’ the caller responded, accepting the glass of wine, before seating himself in one of the chairs by the hearth. He then waited for Daniel to settle himself in the seat opposite before adding, ‘But I have been back in town for nearly three weeks.’

Frowning suspiciously, Daniel studied his companion over the rim of his glass, before demanding somewhat abruptly, ‘Spit it out, Osborne! Why are you here?’

The baronet’s thin lips curled into an appreciative smile. ‘Always so delightfully brusque!’ he quipped. ‘Surprisingly enough, I consider it to be one of your most endearing qualities, my dear fellow. One always knows where one stands with you, Ross.’ A faintly menacing gleam hardened his grey eyes. ‘You are so refreshingly different from so many of those with whom I have been obliged to associate in recent years.’

‘Nobody forced you to take up such work,’ Daniel reminded him. ‘It was done through choice.’

‘Through necessity,’ Sir Giles corrected, ‘though I cannot deny that I have always displayed a certain aptitude. But my task is not yet complete.’

‘But mine is,’ Daniel returned, unable to prevent bitterness from edging his voice. ‘Years of conflict … thousands dead … and for what?’

‘So that we in these islands would continue to speak the King’s English, and not French. Which you, of course, do so remarkably well … And that is precisely why I’m here, Major Ross. Once again I find myself in dire need of your undoubted talents. I am here in an attempt to persuade you to take charge of a little commission which has already begun across the Channel.’

‘No!’ Daniel’s response, sharp and uncompromising, cut through the air like a knife as he rose once again to his feet. ‘My war’s over, Osborne. You cannot order me to go, not this time.’

A sigh escaped the older man as he stared intently at the impassive figure, solid and resolute, now standing before the hearth, staring intently down at the burning coals. ‘No, I cannot order you to go, Major,’ he concurred. ‘But should you agree to do so, you might attain some justice for those many friends who needlessly lost their lives throughout the campaign.’

‘Damn you and your spying games, Osborne!’ Daniel exploded, unable to quell the bitter resentment and anger which had steadily increased throughout the years of conflict, and continued to fester even now, like some open sore that refused to heal. ‘Justice for whom? Curse you!’

Daniel cast a glance over his shoulder in time to see the baronet’s bony fingers tighten fractionally about the stem of his glass. ‘Whose death are you so determined to avenge—your son’s? He was a soldier and, like so many others, was prepared to die for his country. He’s just another of those poor wretches who now lie buried in nameless graves scattered throughout Spain and Portugal.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Or is it perhaps Justine Baron’s demise which continues to prick your conscience?’

Sir Giles held the hard-eyed gaze steadily. ‘Yes, I do feel that I owe it to Justine to bring her murderer to book.’

‘You owe her nothing, Osborne,’ Daniel countered, totally unmoved by the hint of remorse so easily discernible in the baronet’s voice. ‘She knew the risks she was taking. She and the traitorous devil who has plagued your dreams all these years were two of a kind, and both gained considerable financial rewards from indulging in their despicable trade.’

‘Very true,’ Sir Giles concurred, the composure for which he was justifiably famed seemingly having been fully restored. ‘As I remarked before, Justine loved only one thing more than money—her sister. And it is the young woman who has agreed to pose as the former Mademoiselle Louise Baron who just might, if everything goes according to plan, avenge so many needless deaths.’

‘Dear God!’ Daniel muttered, his expression clearly disdainful, as he once again sought the comfort of the winged-chair. ‘Don’t you ever give up? Napoleon is on Elba. It’s over at last.’

‘Perhaps,’ Sir Giles conceded, before his eyes hardened once more. ‘And this is why my elusive friend has possibly begun to drop his guard. He may have severed all communication with many of his contacts, and now thinks himself safe. But he is at his most vulnerable. What will his reaction be when I make it known that, during these past months of Napoleon’s exile, I have worked tirelessly and have managed to locate the whereabouts of Justine’s sister? What if I also make it known that Justine left certain documents in the safekeeping of a lawyer whose identity is known only to the sister, and that the aforementioned sister has every intention of travelling to England in order to retrieve them? What if I were to suggest that the documents might prove interesting reading, and that the girl has agreed to let me study them before she takes her property back to France?’

Sir Giles smiled faintly at Daniel’s openly sceptical expression. ‘Oh, it will undoubtedly trouble him, Ross. He knew of the existence of this sister. But we managed to get to her first, did we not, my dear friend?’ A hint of gratification just for one moment flickered in the baronet’s grey eyes. ‘I promised Justine that I would never disclose her sibling’s whereabouts to another living soul. I also promised that I would never involve her in any of my exploits in the future. And I have kept my word, and shall continue to do so. Justine’s old maid, Marie Dubois, is a different matter entirely, however. I did make contact with her, and she is more than willing to help in my attempts to uncover her late mistress’s murderer. It is none other than Marie herself who is at present taking care of our delightful little impostor across the Channel.’

Daniel arched one dark brow. ‘Our little impostor?’

‘Of course you must go to France in order to accompany your—er—lovely wife to England. Naturally you must not cover your tracks too well, as it were. However, by the time our intended victim has managed to alert his erstwhile associates to the hitherto unforeseen danger to his continued anonymity, I shall have the child safe.’

‘As safe as Justine was in your care?’ Daniel queried, not slow to remind his visitor of past errors of judgement.

Sir Giles was silent for a moment as he stared down into the contents of his glass once again. ‘It will be different this time. Once you have brought the girl safely back to Dover, your part in the plot ceases. You’ll be free to return to Dorset, and forget the whole business. Naturally you will receive your share of the reward, if we are successful in uncovering this traitor.’

Again Daniel’s lips were curled by a smile of unalloyed contempt. ‘Was that the inducement you used to persuade this idiotic female to take part in such a damnably foolhardy escapade—money?’

‘No, it was not,’ Sir Giles assured him. ‘She knows nothing of the reward. She has her own personal reasons for wishing to see this traitor brought to justice.’

Daniel’s bark of derisive laughter echoed round the small salon. ‘If she supposes for a moment the man will ever stand trial, she is a gullible little fool!’

Sir Giles’s eyes were softened by a flicker of admiration. ‘No, she is not a fool, Ross. She’s an immensely brave young woman who is very well aware that what she has agreed to do is not without personal risk should things go wrong. The least I can do is try my utmost to ensure nothing does go wrong.’ He gazed levelly across at the man for whom he had always had the utmost respect. ‘And that is why I need you … someone I can trust implicitly. As you have already pointed out, I cannot order you to go, Major Ross. I can only ask you … one last time … to serve your country.’

Sir Giles made a point of visiting his club early one evening towards the end of the week, and was highly satisfied to discover several very interesting persons present, all seated together at a large table in one corner. Sauntering over, he did not hesitate to avail himself of the only vacant chair, before instructing a waiter to bring him wine.

‘I didn’t realise you had come up to town, Osborne,’ the gentleman seated directly opposite remarked, briefly raising his eyes from the cards in his hand. ‘Are you acquainted with young Gifford here, a distant relation I’m sponsoring this Season?’

‘No, I’ve not had the pleasure, Waverley,’ he responded, before acknowledging the young gentleman seated beside the portly baron, and receiving a stuttered salutation in response.

‘You may not be acquainted with a near neighbour of mine either,’ the gentleman seated on his left put in. ‘Sir Joshua and I travelled up to the capital together a couple of days ago.’

‘We are acquainted, Cranford,’ Sir Giles enlightened him, before turning to the baronet. ‘How are you, Ross? Haven’t seen you in town for a number of years. I do run across your nephew on the odd occasion, though.’

‘Ha! Do you, b’gad!’ Sir Joshua barked. ‘Well, that’s more than I do. Seen the boy only once or twice since he sold out. You’d think he’d settle down now that he’s left the army, but he’s forever gadding about. No repose, no repose at all!’

His sigh was distinctly mournful. ‘Don’t get about much myself now,’ Sir Joshua continued in the same booming voice, which induced several other members, seated at tables nearby, to frown dourly in his direction. ‘Health ain’t so good. That’s why I took the opportunity to travel with young Cranford here, when I discovered he was planning to come up to town. Daughter-in-law kept plaguing me to consult one of these fancy London practitioners about my hearing. Complete waste of time. Stone deaf in my right ear, and my left ain’t much better, so you’ll need to speak up a bit.’

As Sir Giles did not relish the prospect of shouting himself hoarse, he turned once again to the gentleman on his left. ‘By the by, Cranford, I received your letter inviting me to the party next month. Providing nothing unforeseen crops up, I should be delighted to attend.’

He received a piercing gaze from the bright blue eyes of the last member of the party. ‘What’s likely to stop you now? Your work’s done, Osborne, surely?’

‘Yes, Davenham, to all intents and purposes, I suppose it is.’

‘Well, what’s stopping you, then?’ the Viscount persisted. ‘We’ll all be there. You’ll be among friends.’

A ghost of a smile hovered momentarily about Sir Giles’s lips. ‘I cannot tell you how relieved I am to here you say so, Davenham. Unfortunately, there is just a possibility that my presence will be required in town. I’m not quite certain when she’ll be arriving, but I should imagine she has reached Paris by now, and is merely awaiting the arrival of her escort.’

Several brows rose at this. Since the death of his wife, several years before, Sir Giles’s name had never been linked with that of any female. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve found yourself a French charmer, Osborne!’ Lord Waverley exclaimed, laughing heartily. ‘I’d like to meet her. She must be something out of the common way if you’ve gone to the trouble of having her escorted across the Channel.’

‘Indeed, she is special.’ Sir Giles reached for the wine, which a waiter had deposited on the table a few moments before, and filled his glass. ‘She is none other than Justine Baron’s sister, the former Mademoiselle Louise Baron.’

Viscount Davenham frowned. ‘Should we know her? I can’t recall hearing the name before.’

‘No?’ Sir Giles arched one silver-grey brow. ‘Then let me refresh your memory—Justine Baron was a French spy who worked in this country a few years ago. She had a sister living in France, and although the girl was not involved in espionage herself, she mysteriously disappeared around the time of Justine’s death. I managed to locate her whereabouts a few months ago, and wrote to her. She sent a very interesting letter back. Now that the war is over, she intends to travel to England to visit Justine’s grave. She also informed me that Justine left some papers in the safekeeping of a London notary whose identity is known only to Louise. She has agreed to let me peruse the documents when she has retrieved them. So you can appreciate why I’m so keen to ensure that she arrives here safely, for I’m certain those papers will make enthralling reading. Naturally, she and the person I have engaged to escort her will be travelling under assumed names, posing as man and wife.’

The short silence which followed this astonishing disclosure was broken by Sir Joshua Ross who, gathering together the cards and reshuffling the pack, asked Sir Giles if he wished to be included in the game.

‘Why not?’ he responded. ‘I’m feeling distinctly lucky tonight.’

This proved to be the case, and Sir Giles won several hands in quick succession before four of those assembled, making various excuses, rose from the table, leaving only one gentleman to bear him company.

‘Dear me,’ he murmured. ‘Do you suppose it is my skill at cards or something I said? Surely they weren’t all alarmed by my purely fabricated tale?’

‘You had me almost believing it myself,’ his companion admitted, a gleam of admiration flickering in the depths of his grey eyes. ‘You can only hope that your—er—intended victim believed it.’

‘I’m not so foolish as to suppose that, my dear fellow. No, he probably doesn’t believe it. But he will need to be sure. And that is when I’ll have him at last.’

‘You know who it is, then?’

‘I’m not one-hundred-percent certain, no,’ Sir Giles admitted softly, ‘but I believe I know. I need proof, though. And I’m relying on my little impostor to provide me with the proof I need.’

His companion’s eyes widened fractionally. ‘So, you have in truth a young female coming over from France.’

‘Oh, yes, my dear. And she is indeed being escorted by … by someone I hold in the highest regard. He’ll be across the Channel by now, if everything has gone according to plan, and will have the girl safely back in England before our traitorous friend has alerted his French associates. Undoubtedly at this moment our victim is frantically making arrangements for someone to go over to France. I, on the other hand, am for my bed, so I shall bid you goodnight. Come and dine with me tomorrow evening if you’re free.’

Sir Giles remained at his club only for the time it took to collect his outdoor garments and then, declining the hall porter’s kind offer to hail a hackney carriage, set out on foot and arrived at his home a short time later, feeling very well pleased with how smoothly events had progressed thus far.

Extracting the key from his pocket, he was on the point of inserting it into the lock, when a carriage pulled up outside the front of his house, and a familiar figure alighted.

‘Ashcroft! What the deuce are you doing here?’

Not waiting for a reply, Sir Giles quickly unlocked the door and led the way into the house. He had never encouraged his servants to wait up for him, and the house was as silent as a tomb. Even so, he took the precaution of ushering his unexpected guest into the library and quietly closing the door.

‘Don’t tell me Ross has arrived in Paris already?’ he said, going about the room lighting various candles.

Dishevelled, and looking decidedly weary, his faithful associate availed himself of one of the chairs. ‘He hadn’t arrived when I left, sir, no.’

‘Your orders were to keep watch over the girl until he did arrive, and then report straight back to me.’ Sir Giles noticed that his unexpected visitor was looking deeply troubled. ‘What’s happened, Ashcroft? Was there some hitch during your journey to Paris?’

‘No, sir. Everything went smoothly. It was two days after our arrival in the capital that I first learned of it. I advised Miss O’Malley to return to England at once, but she wouldn’t hear of it, sir. She said that we couldn’t be sure that the rumour was true, and that if it did turn out to be correct, your uncovering the identity of the traitor was even more necessary.’

‘What rumour, Ashcroft?’ Sir Giles demanded to know, surprisingly betraying signs of losing his iron self-control.

‘You haven’t heard then, sir? It will surely be all over London by morning … Napoleon has escaped from Elba and is, as we speak, marching on Paris.’ He waited in vain for a response, and then added, ‘There will be some, I dare swear, who will attach no importance to the event, believing that Napoleon will prove no threat. But others think differently. Panic has already begun to spread throughout the French capital, especially among foreign visitors, and those who openly welcomed the return of the Bourbon King.’

Ashcroft remained silent as Sir Giles, suddenly grave, went to stand before the hearth, then asked, ‘What do you wish me to do, sir—return to Paris and bring the girl back here? She could travel under her own name. No one would pay much attention to an Englishwoman wishing to flee the city. I dare swear hundreds are doing so by now.’

A long silence, then, ‘No. You will remain here in town. We must now place our trust in Major Ross. He has never failed me before … Pray God he does not do so this time!’

Katherine stared through the rapidly fading light at the street below her window. There were far fewer carriages and people about on foot now; less signs of the panic which had been steadily increasing during the past days. That, she supposed, was because so many had already fled the city, and many more, so she had been informed, were planning to go.

Had she been foolish to remain? She had asked herself that self-same question dozens of times since Mr Ash-croft’s departure two weeks before. Having given it as his opinion that, with the unforeseen turn of events, their mission would of necessity have to be abandoned, he had urged her to accompany him. Yet she had chosen to remain, certain in her own mind that Sir Giles would have wished her to see his plan through to the end if it was at all possible. With every passing day, however, success seemed less likely. Had the person chosen by Sir Giles to escort her back to England arrived at the inn, there might have been a chance of carrying the plan through to a triumphant conclusion. Sadly, now, that seemed highly improbable.

The door behind her opened, and Katherine turned to see the middle-aged woman who had taken care of her since her arrival in France enter the bedchamber. Marie Dubois was not given to smiling much, and she was certainly looking far from happy now. None the less, the ice-cool reserve with which she had treated Katherine at the start of their association had swiftly diminished, and relations between them were now very cordial, each having acquired a deal of respect for the other.

‘I have bespoke dinner, Madame Durand,’ she announced clearly for the benefit of any inn servant hovering within earshot, ‘and have requested yet again that it be served in here.’

Although beginning to feel something of a prisoner, Katherine could well understand her companion’s continued caution. Marie never forgot the role she had been requested to play—that of a loyal maid to the wife of a prosperous French merchant. Katherine, on the other hand, was forced to own that she had been less successful in her portrayal of the devoted wife, longing for her husband’s return from the south so that they could continue their journey to their home. There had been several occasions when she had failed even to remember that she was supposed to be French, and had reverted to her native tongue without having been aware of it.

There was some excuse for these frequent lapses, she supposed. So much had happened in so short a time that she hardly knew whether she was standing on her head or her heels. From the moment she had agreed to take part in Sir Giles’s plot her quiet and faintly tedious existence had been brought to an abrupt end.

She clearly recalled the time she and the baronet had spent together on that early February afternoon, planning how they could spirit her away from Bath, unaccompanied, and without giving rise to the least suspicion.

After having divulged the name of a young woman with whom she had struck up a particular friendship during her time at the seminary, and with whom she had continued to correspond on a regular basis, Katherine had needed to do nothing further except try to carry on as normal. She had returned to Bath the following day as planned, and a week later had received a letter, undoubtedly written in a female hand, inviting her to stay with her friend. Miss Ashcroft, pretending to be her good friend’s maiden aunt, had then arrived at the door a few days later, and had announced in a very authoritative tone that, as she would be accompanying Katherine throughout her stay, there would be no need for either a chaperon or a maid, as her own servants were more than capable of catering for both their needs.

Bridie, of course, had not wished to be excluded, but Miss Ashcroft, having been forewarned of Bridie’s stubbornness, played the part of a dictatorial maiden aunt quite wonderfully, and had foiled each and every one of Bridie’s attempts to be included in the trip.

Katherine had then been escorted to France without delay. In Calais they had been met by yet another player in the game, Marie Dubois. Miss Ashcroft had returned to England, and Katherine, having adopted the guise of a prosperous Frenchman’s wife, had travelled on to Paris with Marie and Mr Ashcroft, where all that remained was to await the arrival of her ‘husband’.

Everything had proceeded so well up until then, she reflected. Sir Giles had planned everything right down to the last detail. But he could not have foreseen the surprising turn of events that had taken place since her arrival in the French capital, and which, sadly, would ultimately foil his meticulously organised stratagem for uncovering the traitor.

Katherine sighed as she moved away from the window and took a seat at the table, where she had eaten all her meals since her arrival at the inn. ‘I think we must now face the fact, Marie, that Sir Giles has possibly been forced to abandon all his well-laid plans. Tomorrow I shall commence the journey back to England.’

‘I think that wise,’ Marie whispered in English, as she joined her at the table. ‘I did not like to tell you this, but whilst I was downstairs earlier there was talk that, even though the King had dispatched troops to intercept him, Napoleon entered Lyons without a shot being fired. He has many supporters in the army. Should they change allegiance …’

‘Which makes it all the more imperative that you return to your home,’ Katherine announced, knowing what Marie could not bring herself to say. ‘If Napoleon does by some miracle manage to reach Paris and take control, then our countries will in all probability once again be at war. I do not wish you to be branded a traitor for protecting an enemy of your country.’

Marie’s hard features were softened by a rare smile. ‘I do not consider you an enemy, mademoiselle. But there are those who might should you remain. You will forgive my saying so, but you could never pass yourself off as a Frenchwoman, petite.’

Katherine was forced to acknowledge the truth of this. ‘I did inform Sir Giles that my grasp of the Gallic tongue could best be described as adequate, but he insisted that that was of little importance, and that the person he had in mind to escort me back to England would have no difficulty in convincing anyone that he was French.’

The older woman’s eyes narrowed speculatively. ‘I wonder …?’ she murmured.

‘Wonder what?’ Katherine prompted.

‘I wonder if it is the same man who helped me rescue my late mistress’s sister four years ago?’

Katherine was not at a complete loss to understand to what Marie was alluding. Before embarking on this exciting escapade, she had learned a little about the woman who had for two years passed on secret information supplied by the British traitor whom Sir Giles was determined to bring to book. More recently she had learned something of Justine Baron’s early life from Marie who, Katherine had discovered, had been employed many years before as a maid in the Baron family’s home on the outskirts of Paris.

Although not of the aristocracy himself, Justine’s father had been a wealthy man who had made the mistake of speaking out against the injustices of the new regime, and in consequence had had his house and lands seized by those in power before he and his wife had been executed. Justine and her younger sister Louise had only just managed to escape with their lives. Spirited away in the dead of night by their devoted servant Marie Dubois, they had been taken to an isolated farm, owned by Marie’s brother, deep in the French countryside, where they had remained safely hidden from the French authorities for several years. Unfortunately, by the time she had attained the age of eighteen, Justine had become utterly bored with the bucolic existence and, accompanied by the devoted Marie, had decided to find some means of supporting herself in the capital.

Having been the daughter of wealthy parents, Justine had received a good education, and had had little difficulty in acquiring a position in the establishment of a famous modiste. With her striking looks and superb figure, she had been perfect for modelling her employer’s latest creations, and it had not been too long before Justine had fallen under the eye of a high-ranking government official. She had willingly become his pampered mistress, and for several years had lived in comparative luxury in a house overlooking the Seine.

During this period in her life, she had continued to visit her young sister regularly. Unlike Justine, Louise had been content to live a quiet life on the farm. Consequently Justine had been happy to leave her there, and had provided for her sister by sending sums of money to Marie’s relations at regular intervals.

This act of generosity on Justine’s part was to prove her downfall. When the time had come for her to find a new protector, she had chosen unwisely by agreeing to become the mistress of a sinister, shadowy figure who had close links with the man who four years previously had declared himself Emperor.

Her new lover had not been slow to make use of all Justine Baron’s talents. By removing Louise from the farm and placing her in a secluded house, where she had become a virtual prisoner, he had attained the means by which he could force Justine to do precisely as he had wished.

Within weeks she had been despatched across the Channel, where she had swiftly found employment in the establishment of a famous Bond Street modiste. If the modiste had been faintly uneasy about her new employee’s ability to obtain silks and laces at a much reduced rate, she had kept her suspicions to herself, and had not asked too many questions concerning Justine’s frequent trips to the south coast. Which, of course, had allowed Justine to pass on the secret information obtained from the British traitor.

‘I seem to remember you mentioned that you accompanied your mistress to England, Marie,’ Katherine remarked as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

‘Yes, mademoiselle. That was when I learnt to speak your language. We were there for a little over two years.’

‘And in all that time you never once saw the man who sold my country’s secrets?’

Marie shook her head. ‘My mistress did not want me involved. I cooked and cleaned in the little house we rented, and never went to the shop in Bond Street. It was at the shop, I think, that that devil passed on the information to my mistress, for no one ever came to the house, except Sir Giles on that one occasion.’

Katherine frowned. ‘I suppose Sir Giles at some point must have become suspicious of your mistress’s activities, Marie, and had her watched. But what I do not understand is why Justine remained in England when she might have given Sir Giles the information he required in return for her safe passage back to France.’

Marie betrayed surprise. ‘Why, because of her sister, of course! She had had no contact with Louise in over two years. She was not even permitted to write to her, but she managed after several months to discover where her sister was being held, and wrote to my brother. He was permitted to see Louise on one occasion. He wrote and told us the poor child was treated badly, worked from dawn till dusk, and never allowed out of the house. My mistress was determined to get her little sister away from that dreadful residence, which was no better than a prison, and place her with people whom she trusted to love and care for her.’

‘And Sir Giles was willing to offer his aid, providing she told him everything he wished to know,’ Katherine remarked, when her companion fell silent. ‘How, I wonder, did he manage to effect Louise’s escape?’

Marie’s harsh features were once again softened by a surprisingly tender smile. ‘He did it, mademoiselle, by enlisting the aid of a very brave Englishman. I accompanied this man, who was a soldier, I think, over to France. Once he had achieved his objective, I returned with him, eager to impart the good news to my mistress, only to discover …’

‘I know, Marie,’ Katherine said gently. ‘I’m truly sorry that the traitor managed to locate Justine’s whereabouts.’

Marie must have believed the sympathy genuine, for she smiled wanly across the table. ‘I know my mistress would have kept to her part of the bargain. She would have told him all he needed to know, and that is why, before I returned to France, I promised Sir Giles that if in the future he should ever need my help to catch the devil who murdered my poor mistress, he need only contact me.’ She sighed as she gazed down at her work-roughened hands resting in her lap. ‘I am a good Frenchwoman, mademoiselle. I love my country. But I would do anything to avenge my poor mistress’s death. I had great hopes too, for although I never knew the real name of that brave man who rescued little Louise, when I heard the name you were to use, I thought perhaps—’

Marie checked at the knock on the door and rose instantly from the chair to answer it. Supposing it to be the inn servant bringing their food, Katherine did not pay much attention, until she clearly heard Marie exclaim, ‘Ah, monsieur! So it is you! Now we shall do very well!’ Then she raised her head and for a moment was unable to believe the evidence of her own eyes as they focused on the tall figure, swathed in a voluminous grey cloak, peering over Marie’s head from the open doorway.

Quite forgetting her role, she was on her feet in an instant. ‘What in the name of heaven are you doing here?’

Chapter Five

Marie, looking from one to the other, would have been hard put to it to say which of them appeared more stunned by the other’s unexpected presence. Or more angry too, come to that! Blue-green eyes, brightened by a dagger-look, were openly hostile, and there was a definite hint of menace in dark brown orbs too, before the gentleman whom she had been so pleased to see took a step into the room and quietly closed the door.

‘It is good to see you again, Marie, after all these years,’ he remarked in French, and Katherine, even in her intensely perturbed state, was forced grudgingly to own that anyone might have been forgiven for taking him for a native of France. ‘I can only apologise for my late arrival, and trust that you have not found these past days being forced to endure my—er—oh, so charming wife’s company, too much of a trial.’

Marie clearly detected the half-smothered squeal as the young woman whose companionship she had found increasingly agreeable swung away to turn her back on the new arrival. ‘On the contrary, monsieur,’ she didn’t hesitate to assure him, before she recalled the young lady’s one grave failing. ‘But I think I ought to warn you she does have a tendency to forget that she is supposed to be a Frenchwoman.’

‘That,’ he responded, removing his hat and gloves and placing them on top of a convenient piece of furniture nearby, ‘isn’t all she has a tendency to forget. She is wont to forget her manners too on occasions.’

Out of the corner of her eye Marie noticed two slender white hands curl themselves into tight, angry little fists. She had found her young friend courteous and charming. None the less, she didn’t suppose for a moment that she had been blessed with that colouring for no reason, and decided it might be wise to intervene before ‘Madame Durand’ was tempted to deal her ‘husband’ a sound box round the ears, something which, Marie did not doubt, her young companion was more than capable of administering if sufficiently roused to anger.

‘Have you eaten, monsieur? I have ordered dinner, but it would be no trouble to delay it a little to enable you to join us.’

‘I have already dined,’ he answered, his expression softening noticeably as he removed his gaze from the silent, slender figure whose taut features were clearly mirrored in the window and looked down at the older woman. ‘There is no necessity to delay your meal on my account. I shall perhaps sample a glass or two of mine host’s fine wine before I retire. But first I think it might be beneficial to have a little private conversation with my wife.’

Marie was inclined to agree. That the two had met before and were not upon the best of terms was abundantly clear. Therefore, it could certainly do no harm for them to attempt to settle their differences before they embarked on their homeward journey, she decided. ‘In that case, sir, I shall return downstairs and attempt to hurry along our dinner.’

The instant Marie had departed, very tactfully closing the door behind her to enable them to clear the air without being overheard by any inn servants about their work, Daniel addressed himself to the woman who for the next few days would play the part of his wife, loving or otherwise. ‘Well, this is a surprising turn up, is it not, Miss O’Malley?’

He noted the faint stiffening in the perfectly proportioned, slender frame. All the same, he had no intention of attempting to conceal the fact that he was not best pleased to discover that the female he had endured several days’ hardship in order to rescue was none other than the infuriating little madam who, like some pestilential insect, had all too frequently returned to plague him, mentally if not physically, since their last encounter. ‘I had been wondering who our mutual friend had managed to persuade to embark on such a ludicrous venture. It goes without saying that I was convinced it had to be someone with more hair than wit!’

‘Oh, you were, were you?’ Katherine managed to respond in a surprisingly mild tone. Only the glint in her eyes, when at last she turned to face him again, betrayed the fact that she was not as composed as she might wish to appear. ‘Well, let me assure you, Major Ross, that, had I known that you were to figure as a key player in Sir Giles’s plot, nothing in this world would ever have induced me to take part.’

Daniel studied her in silence as he removed his cloak and tossed it casually upon the bed. ‘Ah, yes! I was forgetting your totally unfounded and quite infantile dislike of me. Tell me, Miss O’Malley, is it in an attempt to satisfy some puerile whim that induces you to display antagonism towards virtual strangers?’ He could almost hear those small, perfect teeth grinding together, but steadfastly refused to spare her. ‘I discovered on the evening of your cousin’s engagement party that you were Colonel Fairchild’s granddaughter, and that you resided with him for a short time. Would I be correct in thinking that your resentment stems from nothing more significant than my inability to recall that we had perhaps met in the distant past?’

Daniel noticed the strikingly coloured eyes momentarily stray in the direction of the porcelain vessel on top of the washstand. He didn’t doubt for a moment that that small hand was just itching to reach out for the handle on the pitcher and then hurl the delicately painted piece of porcelain in his direction. Yet her voice when she spoke remained surprisingly calm and controlled.

‘When I resided with my grandfather, we were never formally introduced, Major Ross. I did witness your arrival at the house on several occasions from an upper-floor window, however, and I believe we did once exchange a few words when I happened to be outside and you rode into the stable-yard one day.’

He frowned, endeavouring to remember, but swiftly abandoned the attempt. ‘You must forgive me, ma’am, but I fail to recall the incident.’

‘It is of no consequence, I assure you. I was little more than a child at the time, and quite naturally evinced no interest in you at all.’ The faint twitch at the corner of her mouth was evidence enough that she had enjoyed delivering this mild insult. ‘What I find hard to forgive,’ she continued, when he refused to comment, ‘or forget, for that matter, is that your callous behaviour was in part responsible for the death of my friend.’

For several moments it was as much as he could do to stop himself from gaping across the room at her in astonishment. He would have been the first to admit that he had killed many during his years in the army, but as far as he was aware he had never been responsible for anyone’s death off the field of battle. ‘What the devil are you talking about, young woman?’ he demanded, not attempting to moderate his language.

‘I am referring to Helen Rushton, Major Ross,’ she responded, not noticeably cowed by the barking tone. ‘She and her widowed mother were close neighbours of yours, were they not? Helen and I became friends when I went to live in Dorsetshire towards the end of ‘08.’

This time he was more successful in his efforts to remember. ‘Ah, yes! I recall her now. She was the daughter of Captain Rushton who died at Trafalgar.’ He regarded her in frowning silence for a moment. ‘But she was a mere child. She used to go about all the time carrying a rag doll, of all things! And if my memory serves me correctly, she and her mother unfortunately both lost their lives in a minor smallpox outbreak which occurred shortly after I had sailed for Portugal.’

Katherine’s chin lifted. ‘Helen was seventeen. Unlike her mother, she was young and strong and might well have survived had she not lost her foolish heart to a worthless profligate who gave her every reason to suppose his interests were engaged, only to cast her aside without so much as a second thought.’ She paused to raise an accusing finger. ‘After your treatment of her, she lost the will to live.’

Once again Daniel regarded her in silence, his expression totally unreadable, then he bridged the distance between them in three giant strides, and before she could do anything to avoid it, had imprisoned her chin in one long-fingered hand.

‘And it is this upon which your dislike of me is based—my thoughtful attentions to the daughter of a man I admired, which were obviously totally misconstrued?’

Although Katherine remained stubbornly silent, she found herself unable to hold his openly contemptuous gaze, and lowered her eyes, but not before Daniel had glimpsed the look of mingled doubt and self-reproach she failed to conceal.

He tightened his grasp on the pointed little chin, forcing her head up and giving her no choice but to raise those delicate lids. ‘Retain your infantile dislike of me if you will, Miss O’Malley, but if you possess any degree of sense at all you will refrain from permitting your misguided judgement to induce you to behave foolishly during the time we will be forced to endure each other’s company.’

The warning was clear, and all the more menacing because it had been delivered in a surprisingly soft voice. ‘If we stand the remotest chance of successfully returning to England unscathed, we must work together. Therefore I shall brook no childish acts of defiance on your part.’

Smiling grimly, Daniel watched the play of different emotions flitting over the delicate features before finally releasing his hold on her chin. He wasn’t fooled by the seemingly silent acceptance of his dictum. Unless he was gravely mistaken, nothing would have given her greater pleasure than to place a well-aimed kick on his shin, before telling him to go to hell.

He cast a brief glance over the neat arrangement of fiery curls. No, he mused, he would be foolish to suppose that she would always be so quietly submissive. Beneath the quite lovely surface trappings was a determined and spirited young woman who was not lacking intelligence. Unless he much mistook the matter, she had already been forced to accept the fact that she needed his protection in order to return to England.

‘I do believe that we are beginning to understand each other at last,’ he could not resist adding. ‘If you should continue to exert such admirable self-control, I believe we shall deal tolerably well. And now, Miss O’Malley, I shall leave you alone to ponder over the wisdom of what I have said, whilst I repair downstairs for an hour or so.’

With which he swung round on the heels of his decidedly dusty boots and, head held high, strutted from the room, like a combatant leaving the field of battle in the certain knowledge that he was the clear victor.

The instant the door had closed behind him, Katherine closed her eyes, and somehow managed to quell the temptation to reach out for that pitcher whose handle was invitingly close, and hurl it at the exact spot where the Major’s arrogant head had been only moments before. How glad she was now that her grandfather had insisted that she spend a year at that superior Bath seminary! One schoolmistress of whom she had been particularly fond had endeavoured to teach her to control her temper, and to consider any forceful display of emotion faintly vulgar. She had certainly needed to heed those excellent teachings during the past few minutes, and attempt to behave in a dignified manner. Whether she would be able to continue to do so during the days ahead was a different matter entirely!

Suddenly feeling incredibly weary, Katherine slumped down on the bed, and began to consider her present predicament. Unpalatable though it was, she had to face the fact that she would, perforce, need to spend a considerable amount of time in the Major’s company. Like it or not, she did require his escort to return to England. He had not said as much, but she was acutely aware that she desperately needed him, whereas he did not really need her. It certainly put her at a distinct disadvantage, and she was honest enough to admit that she very much resented the fact.

She very much resented, too, having to acknowledge that he had been right to stigmatise her dislike of him as childish. If the truth were known, her own conscience had begun to prick her over the attitude she had adopted towards him on the night of the engagement party. Yes, he had been right, curse him! Dear Helen had been rather immature in her ways, and, although Katherine had completely forgotten the fact until he had remarked upon it, Helen had frequently been seen in possession of the rag-doll her mother had given to her.

One of Helen’s favourite pastimes had been sewing. She would spend hours creating fashionable outfits for that wretched doll which she herself longed to wear. It had created a very odd impression, all the same, to see the toy so often in her hands.

Yes, it was little wonder that Major Ross had looked upon Helen as a mere child, Katherine reflected, experiencing once again a pang of regret for the way she had behaved towards him. She had been grossly at fault to condemn him as heartless. That did not mean, of course, that she could ever bring herself to like him. Arrogant and overbearing, he epitomised everything she most disliked in his sex. Yet somehow she was going to have to learn to tolerate him until her feet were firmly planted once more on British soil.

A light scratch on the door forced her to abandon her unsettling reflections, and Katherine raised her head to see Marie enter. She thought she detected a glimmer of sympathy in the older woman’s eyes before Marie turned to the two serving-maids, bearing trays, and instructed them to enter.

Whilst the servants busied themselves placing the various dishes on the small table tucked in one corner of the bedchamber, Marie maintained a flow of inconsequential chatter, remarking that the evening had turned chilly, but that the landlord had predicted a fine day for tomorrow. She had never once forgotten the role she had been instructed to play—that of a devoted and conscientious lady’s maid. She was always alert and remarkably astute, which made her obvious regard for Major Daniel Ross all the more puzzling.

Even in her own highly disturbed state, Katherine had realised by Marie’s reaction to his unexpected appearance that Major Ross was none other than the man whom Sir Giles had engaged a few years before to effect Louise Baron’s escape. What she quite failed to understand, however, was why Marie held the odious creature in such high esteem. It was perhaps understandable why she should retain feelings of gratitude. But she had greeted him like some long-lost friend, for heaven’s sake!

Determined to have her curiosity satisfied, Katherine didn’t hesitate to broach the subject the instant the servants had completed their tasks and had left them to enjoy their dinner in private.

‘Major Daniel Ross.’ Marie repeated the name Katherine had just divulged as though it were a benediction. ‘Yes, mademoiselle. It was indeed he who succeeded in helping little Louise Baron,’ she added after a moment’s thoughtful silence.

‘You evidently hold him in high regard,’ Katherine prompted when Marie turned her attention once again to the food on her plate.

‘Indeed, I do, mademoiselle.’ Marie raised her eyes to gaze at some spot behind her dinner-companion’s head. ‘His orders were to secure Louise’s release. But he put his life at further risk by aiding me to escort her to a place of safety.’

Marie was silent whilst she subjected Katherine to a prolonged, searching stare. Then, seemingly satisfied with what she detected in the delicately featured face, she said, ‘I believe I told you that the Baron family was once very wealthy. Monsieur Baron employed a steward, a man who had worked diligently for the family. Some years after her parents were killed, whilst she was residing in Paris, Justine discovered where her late father’s steward and his family had fled, and it was in their care Justine wished her sister to be placed. Major Ross, as I have mentioned, ensured that we arrived at our destination safely. We should never have succeeded without him, that I know.’

‘And does Louise still reside with the family?’ Katherine enquired gently.

Marie nodded. ‘With one of them.’

‘And is she happy?’

‘Oh, yes, mademoiselle. Within a short time she married the eldest son, Pierre, and they have now two lovely children. With the money Justine left her sister, Louise and Pierre bought a vineyard, and have prospered. I too live with them,’ she added, before her gaunt features were softened by a gentle smile. ‘Until you revealed it a short while ago, I never knew the real name of the man to whom we owe so much. I only ever knew him as Antoine Durand.’

Her expression suddenly turning grave, she reached across the table to clasp Katherine’s left hand. ‘Set aside your differences, petite,’ she urged gently. ‘Believe me when I tell you that you could do no better than to put yourself in that man’s hands. He will guard you well.’

Later, after she had changed into her night-wear, Katherine sat on the edge of the bed, and began absently to pull a brush through her long auburn tresses as she turned over in her mind what Marie had disclosed during dinner.

Yes, she could well appreciate now why the Frenchwoman thought so well of Major Ross. Yet when it had been suggested that she could do no better than to place herself in his care, she could not bring herself to agree. But why?

A bitter smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. Oh, yes, she knew well enough why she had been so willing to blame him for poor Helen’s death; why she had been so contented to allow Major Daniel Ross to figure as the villain of the piece all these years. But that, she silently reminded herself, did not explain why now—now, when she had acknowledged how incredibly unjust and foolish she had been—she was still so determined to dislike him, to keep him at a distance.

It could not be denied that he possessed many of those traits she abhorred in his sex. None the less, she had been acquainted with several arrogant and dictatorial gentlemen during her lifetime, her grandfather to name but one, and she had experienced no difficulty whatsoever in tolerating their peccadilloes. So why was she so set against a more companionable relationship developing between her and the Major? After all, there was absolutely no danger at all in just liking someone. It was only when—

‘Ahh, what a delightful sight! The dutiful wife remaining awake in order to welcome her lord and master to bed.’

Katherine started so violently that the hairbrush shot out of her hand to land on the wooden floor with a clatter. It was as much as she could do to stare in horrified silence as the smugly smiling Major Ross entered the room and calmly closed the door. Just how long he had been standing there in the doorway, watching her, she had no way of knowing, for she certainly hadn’t detected the click of the latch, but she could not fail to hear the grating of the key now as it was turned in the lock.

‘What on earth do you imagine you are doing, sir?’ she demanded in a voice which had suddenly risen by an octave, making her sound more like a frightened child than the self-possessed young woman she had wished to appear.

‘What the devil do you imagine I’m doing, madam wife?’ he responded, sounding distinctly bored, as he proceeded to slip the key into the pocket of his tight-fitting breeches. ‘I am about to retire.’

For a moment Katherine was too stunned by this almost blase pronouncement to notice that he was calmly appraising her modest night-attire, from the ties at the base of her throat to where her unshod feet protruded from beneath the hem. Then she detected that unmistakable predatory gleam which she had glimpsed all too often in recent years in many pairs of masculine eyes.

She was on her feet in an instant, almost tripping over the edge of the rug in her haste to scramble into the robe which she had left hanging in the wardrobe. If the sudden smile which pulled at the corners of an attractive mouth was any indication, her actions appeared to have afforded him no little amusement, a circumstance which served to strengthen her resolve to be rid of his unwanted presence without delay.

‘I too wish to retire, sir, so I would be obliged if you remove yourself forthwith. Anything you have to say to me can quite easily wait until morning.’

‘For once we are in complete agreement, m’dear,’ he announced, surprising her somewhat, but the hope that she might be rid of him so easily was swiftly dashed when he plumped himself down on the bed, and began to remove his jacket.

Katherine could only gape in astonished disbelief as cravat and waistcoat were added to the coat which he had flung over the back of the chair, and it was only when he tossed one boot into the corner of the room that the full import of his actions hit her with frightening clarity. ‘You do not imagine surely that you are going to sleep in here?’

After removing his other boot and sending it the way of the first, he bent a look of mild surprise in her direction. ‘Where the deuce do you suppose I’m going to sleep?’

‘Anywhere but in here,’ she returned, silently cursing herself for foolishly forgetting to lock the door after Marie had returned to her own room. ‘I recall the landlord mentioning only yesterday that the inn is half empty now.’

‘Yes, I dare say it is. Most British visitors to this city have made a bolt for the Channel ports. Why do you suppose it took me so long to get here?’

Momentarily diverted by this snippet, she asked, ‘Was the journey here so very arduous? I wondered why you were delayed.’

There was more than just a hint of reproach in the glance he cast up at her this time, as though he considered her in some way to blame for the delay. ‘I was left kicking my heels in Dover for twenty-four hours because of rough conditions in the Channel.’

He sounded genuinely peeved which, perversely, amused her, though she managed to suppress the wicked smile of satisfaction threatening to curl her lips.

‘When I eventually arrived in Calais the diligence to Paris was full,’ he continued in the same highly disgruntled tone, ‘and I had perforce to wait two days before I could manage to acquire a seat in one of those pestilential vehicles, which I might add lost one of its wheels when we had travelled no more than twenty miles from the port. I was then compelled to put up at one of the most uncomfortable hostelries it has ever been my misfortune to enter, was refused a seat on the next coach to Paris on account of its being full, and tooled by the only driver I have ever come across who flatly refused to accept a bribe. Consequently I was obliged in the end to leave most of my belongings at the inn, purchase the landlord’s misbegotten gelding, owing to the fact that he wouldn’t entertain the notion of hiring it out, and then complete the journey on a horse that could not be induced to go above a sedate trot. So as you can appreciate, my dear, I am somewhat fatigued.’

‘Quite understandable,’ she was forced to admit, but steadfastly refused to concede more than this.

Now that she had overcome the initial shock at seeing the impertinent rogue walk brazenly into her bedchamber, Katherine found herself experiencing mere irritation at his continued presence, but certainly no fear. Which was most odd in the circumstances, considering that if he was determined to remain she would need to seek the assistance of the landlord and perhaps two burly ostlers in order to have him forcibly removed.

She swiftly decided that maybe a more tactful approach would serve her purpose better. ‘All the more reason for you to enjoy a good night’s rest in another room. I’m certain the landlord will be only too willing to oblige you.’

He didn’t attempt to move, and merely regarded her, much as he had done earlier in the evening, as though she were some irritating and unruly child who was best ignored. Katherine succeeded in controlling her rising ire, even though with every passing second it was becoming more of an effort.

Without considering the wisdom of her actions, she moved towards him, holding out one hand. ‘Give me the key at once, Major Ross!’ she demanded in a voice which clearly betrayed that she was fast approaching the end of her tether, ‘otherwise I shall create such a commotion that I shall rouse the entire inn.’

For a tall, powerfully built man, Daniel could move with lightning speed when he chose, a fact which Katherine was swiftly to discover to her cost. One moment she was standing with her bare feet planted firmly on polished wooden boards, and the next she was lying, supine, on the bed, arms pinned above her head. She was conscious of the stone-hard chest pressed against her breasts, and acutely aware too of the muscular leg clamped over her lower limbs, effortlessly pinioning both to the mattress.

She did not need to see the unholy gleam of satisfaction in the dark eyes staring down at her to know that she was now his prisoner, incapable of escaping. Yet, oddly enough, she felt more indignant than afraid, and thoroughly nettled for so foolishly placing herself in a position whereby she could be so effortlessly seized.

‘Release me at once, you loathsome creature,’ she ordered, stubbornly refusing to concede defeat, ‘otherwise I shall scream my head off!’

The gleam in the dark eyes grew distinctly more ominous as he encircled her throat with one shapely hand. ‘I could render you senseless in a trice, you provoking little witch,’ he warned, sounding as though he would not have found the exercise wholly distasteful. ‘But perhaps,’ he added, his strong teeth flashing in yet another of those distinctly predatory smiles, ‘there is a more effective means of ensuring your silence.’

Katherine watched those dark eyes widen fractionally as they focused on her mouth. His intent was clear, and she braced herself for the onslaught. Only for a moment, though, did she experience the punishing force of masculine lips as they clamped down over hers, successfully smothering the cry for help which too late rose in her throat; then his mouth became surprisingly gentle, exerting only sufficient pressure to induce hers to part, and evoking peculiar sensations which she was ashamed to own were not altogether unpleasant.

Although acutely aware that it would be altogether a waste of energy to attempt to free herself, and that she was completely at his mercy, she was astonished not to discover an expression of smug satisfaction over his obvious mastery when at last he released her, and hurriedly rose from the bed. No, amazingly enough, he appeared, if anything, slightly shaken and not just a little puzzled too, although his voice when he spoke was as infuriat-ingly self-assured and dictatorial as before.

‘Let that be a lesson to you, young woman, to think long and hard before you embark on any such foolish escapades in the future.’ He towered above her, arms folded across his chest, every inch the dominant male. ‘It wasn’t likely, I’ll admit, that Sir Giles would have placed your well-being in the hands of someone whom he did not wholeheartedly trust,’ he freely acknowledged. ‘None the less, gentlemen do not always behave as they ought on occasions. Think yourself very lucky that I’m not disposed to ravishing innocent maidens. Nor do my tastes run to bedding sharp-tongued viragos.’

If he expected a show of gratitude for this assurance, he was doomed to disappointment. Katherine was hard put to it not to respond in kind by informing him in no uncertain terms that he was not to her taste either, but wiser counsel prevailed. She therefore contented herself with flashing him a further speaking glance, before rising from the bed and fastening her dressing gown, which at some point during his recent assault upon her had become undone.

‘So you have nothing to fear from me, providing you do as you’re told,’ he continued, swiftly suppressing a smile as turquoise eyes favoured him with a further dagger-edged look. ‘Be assured, Miss O’Malley, that I find our present situation as disagreeable as you do. Unfortunately we are supposed to be man and wife, and we have no choice but to maintain the pretence, at least for the duration of our stay in Paris. And married couples, let me remind you, are inclined to share the same room.’

The fact that the maddening creature was absolutely right did nothing to improve her state of mind, and when he calmly slid between the sheets, patting that portion of bed beside him invitingly, as though he expected her to play her part to the full, the tenuous hold she had maintained over her temper finally snapped, and she whisked the top coverlet off the bed.

He neither made the least attempt to stop her from taking it, nor, which was more infuriating still, did he offer to do the gentlemanly thing and suggest that he spend the night in one of the easy chairs by the hearth. He merely bade her an infuriating ‘Goodnight,’ before slipping further between the sheets.

Muttering under her breath, Katherine went about the airy chamber extinguishing the candles. For all his protestations to the contrary, she strongly suspected that Major Ross was attaining much amusement out of her evident discomfiture in having to share this room with him.

She shook her head, marvelling at her own stupidity. How on earth she could have imagined that there was the remotest possibility of her ever liking him she would never know. Without doubt he was the most maddening, detestable creature it had ever been her misfortune to meet!

Chapter Six

The following morning, when finally she had managed to prise open her eyelids a fraction, Katherine felt as if she had taken a punishing tumble from a horse. There didn’t seem to be an inch of her that didn’t ache abominably, and her poor back felt as if it might break if she attempted to move. Discovering bright morning sunlight surprisingly streaming through the bedchamber window did little to improve her overall discomfort, and she swiftly closed her eyes against the sun’s smarting rays, but was prompted to open just one again a moment later when she clearly detected a strange rasping sound emanating from the general direction of the washstand in the corner of the room.

‘Oh, God!’ she groaned, when at last she had brought that nightmarish figure dragging a razor across its chin into focus, and her one and only hope that the events of the evening before had all been some fiendish bad dream had been wholly dashed.

The muttered exclamation carried, and Daniel paused in his shaving to stare through the mottled glass on the washstand at his companion’s pained expression. A few minutes before, whilst still soundly asleep, she had looked utterly adorable, with those auburn locks in enchanting disarray framing her lovely face. It was quite evident that her mood had not improved to any significant degree during the night hours, and he could not in truth say that he was in the least surprised. The winged-chair might be comfortable enough to sit in for an hour or two of an evening, but it hadn’t been fashioned to afford its occupant a good night’s repose.

He managed with precious little effort to suppress a smile, but was not nearly so successful in ignoring that imp of pure devilment which induced him to say, ‘Good morning, sweetheart. I trust you slept well?’

The darts of antipathy discharged from the depths of turquoise-coloured eyes very nearly sent him into whoops of laughter and in grave danger of taking a slice off his chin with the razor. Controlling himself with an effort, he glanced at her again through the mirror before concentrating on his own reflection. She was a termagant, right enough, stubborn and headstrong, and not every man’s idea of a comfortable companion. Yet, in truth, he could not be sorry that she did possess an abundance of spirit, for he very much feared that she would require every ounce of mettle she possessed if they were to come through this venture unscathed.

Deciding to keep these reflections to himself for the time being at least, he concentrated on preparing himself for the day ahead. When at last he had arranged his cravat neatly about his neck, he slipped on his jacket, and turned at last to face her.

‘There is sufficient hot water left in the pitcher to cater for your needs,’ he remarked, successfully bringing to an end what appeared to be her idle contemplation of the dead ashes in the hearth. ‘I’ll go downstairs and order breakfast. You’ll feel better for having some food inside you.’

His considerate gesture to leave her to undertake her toilette in private did little to alleviate Katherine’s disgruntled mood, and she darted yet another vitriolic glare in his direction. ‘My spirits are only ever likely to improve, Major Ross, when we part company … permanently.’

His lips twitched. ‘Believe me, m’dear, it would afford me the utmost pleasure to oblige you. Unfortunately I’m unable to do so, at least not for several days.’ He made to move across to the door, then checked and looked down at her again, a frown between his eyes. ‘Let me hear you say something in French. Say anything you like to me.’

How Katherine wished her command of the language was such that she could do precisely that by consigning him comprehensively to the devil! Unfortunately it was not and she had to be satisfied with telling him politely to withdraw immediately, to which his response was to utter a protracted groan and clap a hand over his eyes.

‘Dear God! Bath seminary French! Marie was right—you would never pass for a Frenchwoman in a million years!’ He removed his hand to bestow a faintly exasperated look upon her. ‘None the less, we must strive to maintain the pretence of a happily married French couple as best we can. Meet me downstairs when you’re ready. You cannot remain skulking in the bedchamber now that your husband is here to protect you. We’ll eat in the coffee-room. But kindly leave all the talking to me.’

‘Insufferable oaf!’ Katherine couldn’t resist muttering the instant he had departed.

‘I heard that,’ a deep voice informed her from the other side of the door.

Aches and pains instantly forgotten, Katherine flew out of the chair to lock the door. From what sounded suspiciously like a rumble of deep masculine laughter floating down the length of the passageway outside the room, she strongly suspected that his sharp ears had also detected the grating sound of the key turning in the lock. The confounded man had the acute senses of a cat! And could move as silently as a feline too! She would have sworn she had been awake throughout most of that wretchedly uncomfortable night, striving to combat the very natural desire to part company with the Major at the earliest opportunity, and yet in all honesty she could not say she had heard him return the key to the lock.

She turned her attention to her small trunk, which had sat in the corner of the room since her arrival at the inn. Nothing would have afforded her more satisfaction than to begin to re-pack it at this very moment with her belongings, and persuade Marie to accompany her at least as far as Calais. Her wretched conscience, however, simply wouldn’t permit her to attempt this course of action. She had pledged to do all she could to help Sir Giles in his endeavours to unmask that British traitor who had eluded him for several years. So she must strive, somehow, to overcome her quite understandable antipathy and collaborate with the Major. Their mission was the important thing, not her disinclination to work with someone whom she found an utter bane, and she must never lose sight of this fact, she reminded herself.

Consequently she swiftly made use of the pitcher’s remaining contents, and after dressing herself in one of her modest, high-necked day dresses and arranging her hair in a neat chignon, she made her way down the stairs to the coffee-room, where she discovered the Major seated at the table by the window, staring intently out at the street.

Not surprisingly he detected her light footfall almost at once, and rose from the chair to place his lips lightly on one cheek before Katherine could do anything to avoid the fleeting contact with that much too attractive masculine mouth. She would have derived a deal of pleasure from stamping on one of those large feet encased in boots that since the previous night had received a polish, but as there were several other patrons present she refrained and merely betrayed her resentment of the chaste salute by flashing a speaking glance, which he blithely ignored.

As this was the first time she had eaten downstairs since her arrival at the inn, Katherine gazed about her with interest, and although the Major maintained a flow of conversation to which she only needed to contribute the occasional ‘yes’ or ‘no’, she did notice his attention straying as the meal wore on, his keen gaze alternating between a spot beyond the window, quite outside her own field of vision, and a certain area in the coffee-room beyond her left shoulder.

She realised at once that something was not quite to his liking, and was not unduly surprised, after they had both eaten their fill, that he seemed disinclined to linger. ‘I fear, my dear, that I must leave you to your own devices this morning,’ he remarked in a carrying voice, which the bearded man seated alone at the table nearest the door must surely have heard. ‘I have an appointment with my bankers, so I’m afraid we must delay our departure until tomorrow. Annoying, I know, but it cannot be helped.’

Had Katherine not known that the Major was acting the part of the loving, considerate husband, she might have supposed the smile of gentle warmth he bestowed upon her as they made their way towards the stairs was perfectly genuine. ‘Why not enjoy a last spending spree and treat yourself to a new bonnet?’ he suggested. ‘It might be some little time before we have a chance to visit Paris again, my love, so take advantage of a last browse round the shops.’

After accompanying her back up the stairs, he followed her into the bedchamber, where he remained only for the time it took to collect his outdoor garments. Then, without uttering anything further, not even a word of farewell, he left her, closing the door quietly behind him.

Katherine clearly detected a murmur of voices from the room adjoining her own, which Marie had occupied throughout their time at the inn. She could not hear precisely what was being said, and even if she could she doubted very much whether she would have understood half of what was being uttered, because the conversation quite naturally was being conducted in rapid French. Even so, there certainly seemed an urgency about the whispered exchanges.

Some few minutes elapsed before she heard a firm tread along the passageway, and several minutes more before she saw, from her bedchamber window, Major Ross leave the inn, and set off at a brisk pace towards the centre of the city. Almost at once a figure emerged from one of the doorways on the opposite side of the street and made off in the same direction. Mere coincidence, or something more sinister? She could not help wondering.

Her faintly troubled thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and a moment later Marie entered, dressed in her outdoor clothes. ‘Ah, madame!’ she announced cheerfully, immediately perceiving Katherine by the window. ‘Your husband has instructed me to bear you company in your quest for a new bonnet. How lucky you are, madame, to have such a generous husband and one who, moreover, panders to a lady’s every whim.’

Katherine’s response to this piece of arrant nonsense was to give vent to an unladylike snort of derision. She couldn’t help thinking that poor Marie was allowing those lingering feelings of gratitude to cloud her judgement when it came to assessing Major Ross’s true character.

She chose not to argue when it was suggested that it might be wise to don her heavy, fur-lined cloak before venturing out on what promised to be a very mild, almost spring-like day. Nor did she attempt to discover why Marie should consider it essential for her to place all the funds in her possession, enough to purchase a dozen dresses, let alone bonnets, in her reticule before setting off. It was only after they had left the inn, and Marie for once chose to dawdle along the streets, while maintaining an inexhaustible flow of small talk that Katherine began to suspect her companion had a very good reason for behaving in such an uncharacteristic way.

This suspicion was confirmed when, idly glancing in a shop window, she happened to catch sight of the man who, earlier that morning, had been seated alone at a table in the coffee room. His grey hair and beard suggested that he was not in the first flush of youth, and yet his gait was remarkably sprightly, and his hard, dark eyes, she noticed, before he stopped to study the goods on display in another shop window, appeared youthfully clear and direct.

‘Marie, am I imagining things, or are we being followed?’

Katherine feared the worst when her companion’s fixed smile began to crack. ‘Yes, petite,’ Marie admitted, as they continued their stroll. She did not, however, attempt to quicken her pace. ‘Major Ross suspected that there were people watching the inn. But do not be afraid. He is at this very moment organising your removal from the city. All we need do is successfully lose our shadow. And I believe I know how this can be achieved. Endeavour, petite, to behave normally, and on no account be tempted to keep checking if he is still behind us.’

Resisting the temptation to glance over her shoulder proved to be more difficult than Katherine might have imagined. Strangely enough, though, she did not feel alarmed; in fact, she felt more intrigued than anything else, wondering how the traitor’s henchmen had managed to locate their whereabouts.

Of course she realised that Sir Giles had intended to make it known that he had managed to discover the whereabouts of Justine Baron’s sister, and that Louise would be travelling to London under an assumed name. It was also possible that Sir Giles had made it known that the person whom he had engaged to escort Louise to England would be adopting the role of her husband. But what had made them suspect that she might be Justine’s sister? Did she truly bear such a strong resemblance to the Baron sisters?

This might possibly be the reason, Katherine supposed. Yet it still did not account for the fact that the traitor’s associates had managed to locate her so easily. Paris was littered with inns. It would take some considerable time to visit them all in order to search for their quarry. Had it been pure chance which had prompted them to stumble upon the inn at which she and the Major were putting up?

Marie’s unexpected exclamation of delight induced Katherine to abandon her puzzling conjecture for the present, and she turned her attention to the creation in the shop window which appeared to be holding Marie so enraptured. She suspected at once that there was something more to her companion’s display of enthusiasm, and so offered no resistance when Marie insisted on entering the premises in order to view the fussily adorned bonnet more closely.

No sooner had they stepped over the threshold to find the establishment surprisingly empty except for one sales assistant than Marie’s demeanour changed dramatically. She insisted upon seeing the proprietress, and after a few moments’ haranguing the young assistant was persuaded to go in search of her mistress.

Not appearing best pleased at having her daily routine disrupted, the modiste, like a fearsome Amazon prepared to do battle, suddenly appeared between the plush red velvet curtains. Surprisingly enough, however, after one startled glance of recognition, she clasped Marie to her ample curves, for all the world as if she were some long-lost bosom friend.

A hurried and whispered exchange swiftly followed, the result of which had Madame throwing up her hands in a despairing gesture, casting a sympathetic glance in Katherine’s direction and voicing the fervent hope that all hardhearted males would suffer the torment of eternal perdition.

Although faintly puzzled by this pronouncement, Katherine didn’t hesitate to follow the modiste when she beckoned imperiously with one podgy, beringed hand. Having once passed between the velvet curtains, she found herself in a dimly lit passageway, from which, she swiftly discovered, one gained access to an enclosed, narrow yard.

Extracting a bunch of keys from the pocket of her severe black gown, Madame unlocked the gate set in the high, stone wall, and then surprised Katherine again somewhat by enveloping her in her plump arms.

‘You may place your trust in Madame Perot, petite. I shall send that fool who follows about his business if he should dare to enter my shop,’ she announced, before utterly confounding Katherine by adding, ‘Now go, petite. And God speed! You shall soon be safe in the arms of your lover.’

Before Katherine could gather her wits together sufficiently to demand of Madame precisely what she meant, Marie grasped one of her wrists and, after checking no one was lurking in the alleyway beyond the gate, commenced to lead the way hurriedly along a series of narrow, twisting streets. It was only when they eventually arrived at a much wider thoroughfare, running parallel to the Seine, that Marie slackened her pace.

Finding herself in a part of the city where she had never ventured before, Katherine looked about with interest, but eventually her mind returned to the brief encounter with that larger-than-life modiste. That Marie was well acquainted with Madame Perot was obvious. What wasn’t quite so clear was what she had imparted during that hurried and whispered exchange which had taken place in the shop.

Curiosity got the better of her at last and she found herself asking, ‘How long have you been acquainted with Madame Perot, Marie?’

‘Do you not recall my mentioning that Justine Baron worked for one of Paris’s most fashionable dressmakers, petite? That was Madame Perot. She was fond of Justine. She admired very much her spirit. After I returned to France, I kept in touch.’

That, of course, explained why Madame Perot didn’t hesitate to offer her aid, Katherine mused. It did not, however, explain Madame’s curious parting words. ‘What did you tell her about me?’

Marie’s harsh features were once again transformed by one of those endearing smiles. ‘I told her you were my new mistress, and that you had been very good and kind to me.’

‘And?’ Katherine prompted, when she surprised a mischievous glint in those world-weary eyes.

‘I told her you had fallen deeply in love with the most brave and charming man, but that your papa stubbornly opposed the match. I told her you had been forbidden to leave the house, and had been denied all contact with the man you love, so you had been given no alternative but to agree to an elopement. Unfortunately your papa, guessing what you might do—’

‘Stop! Stop!’ Katherine beseeched her, both amused and slightly resentful at being cast as one of those idiotic, lovelorn heroines too frequently found between the covers of those books to which her companion, Miss Mountjoy, seemed addicted. ‘I believe I can guess the rest.’

Katherine cast the woman beside her a fond smile. Undoubtedly in the normal course of events they would have viewed each other as enemies. Yet Fate had decreed that their paths should cross in exceptional circumstances and, even though their countries were probably in imminent danger of once again being at war, she and Marie had, against all the odds, become friends. How Katherine wished that Marie was in truth her companion, for she doubted she could ever find one to suit her half so well.

‘You have the most fertile imagination, Marie,’ she could not resist telling her. ‘And you are the most convincing liar to boot! I dare swear that Madame Perot believed every word of your ridiculous tale!’

‘But, petite, it was not a complete lie,’ Marie protested. ‘I am taking you to a gentleman who is both brave and charming, and you are about to fly with him far away from Paris.’

This succeeded in wiping the fond smile off Katherine’s face. Foolishly, up until that moment, the fact that it would be impossible to return to the inn simply hadn’t occurred to her. But of course they could not! There was bound to be someone watching the inn, awaiting their return.

‘Will you be accompanying us?’ she asked, clinging to the faint hope that she might rely on Marie’s unfailing support at least until they reached one of the French ports, but deep down knowing what the answer would be even before she detected the slight shake of her trusted companion’s head.

‘No, petite. Major Ross does not need the added burden of taking care of me too.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, there is no need. I shall be perfectly safe. I know this city well. I have several friends here and can hide myself easily enough until I find some means to travel south.’

They turned off the main thoroughfare into yet another of Paris’s many side roads to discover a one-horse gig waiting halfway down the street, and an unmistakable tall figure standing beside the decidedly battered conveyance.

Katherine felt the touch of fingers on her arm, and turned to see a look of mingled concern and affection in grey eyes. ‘My task is almost complete, petite. But yours has only just begun. Do not allow your dislike of Major Ross to prompt you into foolish actions,’ she advised in an urgent whisper. ‘Do what he tells you and I have every faith that you will come through this unscathed.’

The advice had been kindly meant, and Katherine refrained from dismissing it out of hand. Even so, she was not prepared to commit herself. ‘I have never made a promise which I thought I would be unable to keep, Marie, and I do not intend to begin by doing so now. But be assured that I shall not go out of my way to make difficulties, and shall, as far as possible, attempt to work with Major Ross and not against him.’

Even though Katherine had meant every word, resentment at his behaviour the night before remained and she could not bring herself, when at last they approached him, to acknowledge his presence with more than a cursory nod of the head.

Daniel regarded the frigid set of delicate features for a moment before turning his attention to the older woman. ‘As you are late, Marie, I assume that you also were followed.’

‘Yes, monsieur. It was as you suspected—there were two of them watching the inn. We managed to shake off our shadow, as you evidently did yours.’

‘It might not be so easy next time, should they locate us again,’ Daniel warned. ‘I do not doubt that before too long there will be others scouring the streets of Paris for us. So we must not delay.’ He reached for her fingers, and held them briefly. ‘You are an old hand at this game, Marie, so you need no advice from me, save to say, God speed. If the outcome of this venture should prove successful, I shall ensure that you are apprised of the fact.’

Daniel refused to linger over protracted farewells, and gave Katherine only sufficient time to receive a surprisingly warm embrace from the older woman, and then placed his hand under her elbow, giving her no choice but to take her seat in the gig.

‘You have evidently found favour in the austere Marie’s eyes, Miss O’Malley,’ he remarked, after Katherine, peering round the side of the gig, had watched Marie turn and walk back along the narrow street.

‘For several days she remained aloof,’ she admitted, faintly relieved that he considered it safe enough to converse in their own language. ‘Gradually, though, she became more friendly,’ she went on, wondering if there was the remotest possibility that their relationship might follow a similar course. She did not hold out much hope, but was determined to keep the hostility which lingered towards him under control. ‘I quickly grew very fond of her. She took very good care of me.’

‘As I fully intend to do, Miss O’Malley.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel noticed the suspicious glance she cast him, as he turned the gig into a much wider thoroughfare. Yes, she was certainly wary of him, and he was forced silently to own that, after his behaviour last night, perhaps there was good reason for her caution. Undoubtedly she was as innocent now as she had been on the day of her birth, a gently nurtured, chaste young woman. Which made her willingness to involve herself in such a perilous venture all the more mystifying, for he felt sure that she must have been aware from the start that there would be more than just an element of risk involved. From something her aunt had disclosed on the night of the engagement party, he had gained the distinct impression that Miss O’Malley was, if not extremely wealthy, a young woman of comfortable means, so he doubted very much, as Sir Giles himself had intimated, that the prospect of attaining a substantial reward would have played any part in her decision to become involved.