A Wedding In Springtime(37)

“Plug your own leak, Neville,” demanded the admiral. “Until then, I’ll not trust your office.”

Neville stood up straight, reaching his full, albeit diminutive height. “I will need to interview each member of your staff, and I will need a full guest list. Let us at least acknowledge the painful truth that a member of your staff or a guest in your home is a thief working for our enemy.”

The admiral’s shoulders sagged. The truth was undeniable. “Yes, yes, of course. Lady Devine will provide you this information.”

Grant bowed his way out of the room and left with his friends.

“Such excitement!” declared Grant. “And I thought debutante balls were a bore. Why, nothing could be further from the truth!”

“I’m so glad the drama could serve for your amusement,” replied Marchford.

“It does not appear to have pleased you, my friend.”

“No, indeed,” said Marchford lowering his voice, “for it is likely that someone on the guest list is a spy, and I will, no doubt, be the next target.”

***

“What do you mean you do not have the code?” A delicate figurine launched through the air and smashed to slivers on the hearth.

“I brought you exactly what you asked for,” the spy defended himself, stepping to the side as a vase was hurled toward his head. It smashed on the floor behind him.

“Not good enough! How am I to read this gibberish without the damned code?”

The man ducked as a plate was flung at him.

“Now get me that code. I cannot hold my patience for long!”

If this was patient, the spy was loathe to see angry, and yet getting the code would prove problematic. “The code was given to the Duke of Marchford. He runs his house like a vault. The servants are above bribery, I’ve tried. He has a footman on guard in the study where I suspect the code is being kept. He even has a man sleeping in the study.”

“I do not care to hear your petty problems. Every man can be bribed or killed. Do not tell me that a mere footman is going to prevent Napoleon’s victory.”

“It is not just the footman. The butler keeps the front door locked. There is no way in!”

A red hot poker was removed from the fire and slowly raised level with the spy’s eyes. “Smash the window, poison the footman, bribe a visitor, blackmail a lover, I don’t care how you do it, but bring me that code!”





Thirteen





“You can do this.”

“Pardon?” asked Marchford.

“You look apprehensive. Thought you needed encouragement,” said Grant with a sly smile.

“I am fine. We will pay a morning call on Lady Louisa and then continue to Tattersall’s. Unless you would like to go there directly, I do not wish to impose on your time.”

Grant laughed. “Oh no, you are not getting out of speaking with your fiancée that easily. Besides, what have I to do? I am utterly at my leisure.”

“Remind me to do something about that,” muttered Marchford.

They pulled up outside the Bremerton household and handed the reins of the barouche to Marchford’s tiger, who had jumped down from the back in a flash. They entered the house and were ushered into a formal sitting room.

Lady Bremerton met them with a wide smile. Marchford’s prospective bride barely acknowledged him. Grant easily procured a chair for himself next to the lovely Miss Talbot and abandoned Marchford to pursue awkward conversation with Lady Bremerton.

“I hope you enjoyed the ball, Miss Talbot,” said Grant in a tone he knew would raise an eyebrow from his mother, or any mother, for that matter.

“It was indeed an enjoyable event,” said Genie without rising to the bait of his seductive tone. “Did you have an enjoyable evening, Your Grace?” Genie asked Marchford. If Grant hoped to monopolize her conversation, he was doomed to disappointment.

“Yes, enjoyable evening,” said Marchford in a flat tone that conveyed it had been anything but.

Silence fell briefly, but Genie picked up the conversation with a determined smile. “I believe you were quite successful at cards, Aunt.”

“Silly girl, you ought not speak of such things,” chastised Lady Bremerton. “But since we are all almost family, I will only say that I had a fine evening. Lady… well that’s not important, she fancied herself quite the card player, but she left disappointed. Some of those ladies were betting deep, let me tell you. People think it is the man who is susceptible to gambling, but I have seen evidence to the contrary.”