The Noble Spy (London Season Matchmaker 2) - Page 8

Merry’s flush deepened, her eyes flashing angrily. “I was not unsuccessful,” she stated, grasping the arms of the chair and leaning towards Titania in her anger. “I enjoyed this evening as best as I could, whilst ensuring that you did not make a fool of yourself by being so obviously overeager with almost every gentleman that approached you!” She narrowed her eyes, fixing Titania with her furious gaze. “This may come as something of a surprise to you, Titania, but I do not wish to be as you are. I do not wish to throw myself at whatever gentleman so much as looks at me, and I certainly do not wish to fill my head with questions over why one particular gentleman did not show me the interest I feel I deserve!”

So saying, she got to her feet and, without another word, flung the door open and strode from the room. The sound of her footsteps hurrying along the corridor echoed up towards Titania, leaving her feeling a sudden sense of guilt.

“I think I, too, shall retire.”

Titania, who had forgotten that Dinah was present, jumped in surprise.

“I find that your company is a little lacking,” Dinah continued, with a small sniff. “To complain about one gentleman ignoring you does indeed show a sense of arrogance and selfishness that does not behoove you, Titania. Good evening.”

Titania turned and walked to the window as Dinah left the room, her hands curling into fists as she fought against her own anger and frustration. It did not make sense in her own mind either, she realized, for to be considering the inattention from Lord Carroway instead of being delighted with the many dances and conversations she had enjoyed with others certainly did not make a great deal of sense. However, for whatever reason, she could not remove the very strange behavior of Lord Carroway from her mind. Why had he smiled at her in such a manner? Why had he then turned his head and left, choosing not to approach her or seek an introduction from another? It had been very odd, and she should have thrown it from her mind almost at once, but—for whatever reason—she had been quite unable to do so. And now she had upset Merry and allowed Dinah’s sharp words to sting at her heart. It was all quite wearying.

“I should perhaps retire also,” she murmured, turning away from the window and letting her gaze flick around the room. She was the only one still awake, it seemed, for her mother and Catherine had retired the very moment they had set foot in the house, and now Dinah and Merry were gone also. As tired as she wa

s, Titania did not feel settled enough to retire, for her mind was still alive with questions and thoughts that would not give her any peace whatsoever.

Her eyes strayed to the letter that had been discarded on the table nearby. It was a letter from her brother, Grayson, who was now the new Lord Whitehaven. She had only given it a cursory glance when it had arrived earlier that day and had let her sisters read it first. Perhaps she should do so now, in the hope that her mind would quieten.

Sighing heavily, Titania meandered towards the table and picked up the letter, practically falling into a chair by the fire. Sitting slumped, one leg crossed over the other, and with the certainty that no one would arrive and find her as such, Titania began to read.

Grayson was continuing on at the estate and with all his many duties and responsibilities. He wrote of some of them, stating that the improvements to the tenant’s homes were taking more time than he had thought, but aside from that, all seemed to be going well. The crops would give them a good yield, he believed, and thus, he was quite content. This did not interest Titania very much, and she was about to set the letter aside and make her way to bed when a word or two caught her eye.

‘You must be on your guard, my dear sisters,’ Grayson had written. ‘I have some acquaintances in London who have informed me that there are some of those dastardly French amongst you all. You must be on your guard.”

Despite the warning, Titania felt a sudden thrill of excitement run down her spine. Spies? In the midst of London? Of course, surely none of them would be titled gentlemen, which meant that she had no particular need to concern herself, but she would have to ensure that she remained vigilant when walking through the London streets or the like. Not that she thought they would care much for her, given that she had no connection whatsoever to the army or any gravitas as regarded matters of state! A small smile crossed her lips as she continued to read Grayson’s letter, glad that her brother was showing such concern for his sisters, cousin and mama, even though they would not be in any particular danger.

The letter finished with a few words of encouragement, with Grayson stating that he hoped that they would all have an enjoyable Season and that Merry and Catherine would do their utmost to please their mother. This, Titania knew, was a gentle reminder to her sisters that they needed to show even a smidgen of delight at being amongst society and that they needed to grasp one or two opportunities, even if they did not truly wish to. There was no concern for her, of course, for Grayson knew all too well that Titania was already eager to take part in society and was hopeful of finding a suitor.

At this thought, Titania found her mind returning, once more, to Lord Carroway. Closing her eyes in frustration, she rose to her feet and threw the letter back down upon the table, irritated that, once again, she had allowed her thoughts to return to him when her initial desire had been to wipe him from her memory altogether. She did not want to think of him, did not want to let her mind fill with questions over him again. Perhaps her sisters were correct to state that she was behaving poorly by complaining. After all, she had received a good deal of attention from some wonderful gentlemen, including Lord Huckleby! If he were to court her, if he were to take a true interest in her, then she would have no need to consider Lord Carroway nor any other gentleman, for he would more than satisfy her every hope. If she were to be his bride, then she would be content for the rest of her days!

“So why, then, do I consider the one gentleman who did not come to seek me out?” she murmured aloud, getting to her feet and wandering to the window. Looking out into the darkness, she let her mind travel back over the letter her brother had written, feeling a twinge of excitement over the idea that someone, somewhere, was a spy for the French. She could barely imagine what they might look like, wondering if they would skulk about in the shadows or walk through London with their hat pulled so low that it would be more than difficult for anyone to see their face.

Or, it could be that Grayson was simply over exaggerating and had—as she was in danger of doing at this very moment—allowed his imaginings to run free without any thought of holding them back.

Smiling to herself, Titania let out a long breath and told herself that she need not be so foolish. There was no danger of such things as spies, not amongst the beau monde. All she needed to concentrate on was the Season and all the many wonderful occasions she would soon be attending.

As she was just about to turn away from the window so that she might retire, Titania suddenly caught sight of something. Her eyes narrowed, her breath catching as she stared out into the darkness, not quite certain what it was she had seen. There had been something there, yes, something she was certain she had seen moving, but as yet, she could not say what it was. Frowning, she wrapped her arms about her waist and looked again, feeling nervousness climb into her stomach and begin to rest there. Perhaps she had been mistaken. Perhaps there was no one present at all and her mind was simply working much too quickly for her own good.

And then, she saw it again. A figure stepping back from the house, looking up at it with his hands at their hips. In the darkness, she could not make out his face nor anything about the person, but the person’s study of the house and, mayhap, of her, gave her a terrible fright. Her skin began to crawl as the figure drew close to the house, leaving Titania afraid that, somehow, in some way, this person might make it inside. She had no particular idea of what the person’s intentions were, nor did she know what it was he sought, but the fear that he would somehow manage to make it inside caught at her heart.

Looking over her shoulder, Titania hurried towards the fire and began to put it out as best she could so that very little of the fire’s glow remained. The hot coals still burned red and orange, but no flames reached up with long, yellow fingers. Sweat beaded on Titania’s forehead as she put out each and every candle, save one, her fingers trembling as she put the dampener on top of each flame. It was as though the man outside was still watching her, as though his gaze could reach her even as she hurried about the room. Sweat trickled down her spine as she edged back to the window, looking out cautiously and half expecting to see the man’s face appear at the window.

A gasp emitted from her chest as she saw the man step back again from the house, turning his head to look at another figure who was approaching. And then, without any warning, he turned and fled – and the second figure pursued him at once. They were gone in a moment, nothing more than two shadows eaten up by the darkness.

Titania let out a breath of relief and sagged against the wall, knowing that, for whatever reason, the house was safe and secure. The first man was now being pursued by the second and surely that would be enough to deter him from returning and attempting to gain entry into the house a second time? Come the morning, Titania would ensure that she informed the butler about what she had seen, just in case a footman or two could be spared to stand watch overnight. For the time being, she would retire to bed and make sure to lock herself in carefully, hoping that such measures would help her mind to settle and allow her to rest.

Picking up the only remaining candle, Titania made her way slowly along the dark hallway to her bedchamber, trying not to jump at any shadows or tiny sounds that came from the resting house. All the same, she could not help but hurry, her footsteps quickening as she climbed the staircase to her bedchamber.

Thank you, she thought to herself, remembering the second figure and how he had chased after the first. I do not know your name nor what you were doing within this vicinity, but I thank you for what you have done this night.

Just as she climbed into bed, Titania was caught by an idea, her eyes widening slightly as she stared into the darkness. The man who had chased away the first this night – could it have been the very same man who had come to her aid the night she had seen the murder? A sudden chill ran over her, and she clutched at the bedsheets, feeling suddenly afraid. Who was that fellow? And why was he so often by her house? Swallowing hard and feeling her fear linger on, Titania threw herself do

wn into her bed and pulled the covers up, right over her head, so that she was enveloped in the blankets. Curling herself up, she closed her eyes and tried to breathe calmly, allowing the sense of safety to wash over her. There was nothing to concern herself with, she reminded herself quietly. She was quite safe within the house. The door was locked, the front of the house bolted and secure. No one would be forcing their way inside tonight.

But why would they wish to enter in the first place? she asked herself, biting her lip for a moment. What if they are coming after me because of what I have seen?

It was an unpleasant thought, and despite her attempts to calm her spirits and quieten her heart, it took Titania many hours before she was able to fall into a deep yet restless sleep, where her dreams were filled with spies with ill intentions and of dark, shadowy figures that crept nearby, their eyes fixed upon her and their hearts filled with malice and discontent.

Chapter Five

Tags: Lucy Adams London Season Matchmaker Historical
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