The Great Christmas Ball Read Free

uncle’s small translating service suggested that he did indeed work at Whitehall.
    She peered over her shoulder, and saw him gazing at her in fixed concentration. She damped down her excitement and wild imaginings and translated the note. When she was finished, she said, “It is ready, Mr. Lovell” in a remarkably calm voice, but her hand was trembling.
    He came pouncing forward at once. “How much—”
    She leveled a penetrating look at him. “It was an honor to translate this one. You may tell Mr. Brown there will be no charge.”
    Their eyes met and held. He read the knowledge in hers, and his heart shriveled. “You know!” he said in a hollow voice.
    “Yes, I know,” she replied calmly.
    His lips clenched in indecision, then he hastily read the note. When he was done, he lowered it and stared at Cathy. What must this prim little spinster make of all this? He was on thorns to dash to Castlereagh with the news. Castlereagh would be eager to abet Metternich and the Prussians to break the alliance with Boney. But he must get the letter back before Cosgrave discovered its absence. Most of all, he must secure this girl’s promise to hold the secret.
    “You realize this is strictly confidential, Miss Lyman.”
    “Of course,” she said.
    “I cannot overemphasize the importance of secrecy.”
    “My family have a long history in the diplomatic service, Mr. Lovell. Our word is our bond.”
    “You must not tell anyone, even your family.”
    “I understand. There is only one thing that bothers me. Why did you not use the translation service of the government? Why bring such a sensitive document to me?”
    “Because there are people at work who are not to be trusted. We do not know who is responsible, but secret information is leaving the Horse Guards.”
    She considered this a moment and found it reasonable. “I will be happy to perform any such work in future, without charge, naturally.”
    “And you won’t tell anyone I was here. I have bent the rules a little. It would not be well for me if it were discovered.”
    “Yes, it was rather rash of you, Mr. Lovell,” she said, but in no condemning way. “But you may place complete faith in my discretion.”
    Lord! He had placed state secrets in the hands of a mere lady. Even Castlereagh would not countenance this folly. He studied her a moment. Excitement lent a sparkle to a pair of hazel eyes heavily fringed in lashes. For the rest, she was rather pretty in a conventional way, with a tumble of brown curls and regular features. It was her prim manner that had suggested the word spinster, for she was certainly not old. None of this gave any indication of her character, however.
    She mentioned her family’s history. Lyman—what did he know of them? There was a Sir Aubrey Lyman. “Are you Sir Aubrey’s daughter?” he asked.
    “Yes,” she said proudly.
    “Ah, and where is he posted now?”
    “He has been dead these five years.”
    “I’m sorry,” he said perfunctorily. His overriding concern was to discover something of the family’s character and reputation, but he had not time to do it then. “My family was acquainted with him some years ago,” he lied smoothly. “Could I do myself the honor of calling one day?”
    “We should be happy to receive you.” She smiled.
    Her shy smile told him she had taken the gesture as a personal compliment. Was there no end to the mischief he could create? “Will you be at home this evening?” he asked.
    “Oh, yes, we seldom go out. In such weather as this, I mean,” she added hastily, as she did not wish to give Mr. Lovell the notion she had no social life.
    “It begins to look as though we shall have a white Christmas.” He smiled, putting on his coat. “I don’t know how to thank you, Miss Lyman.” He picked up his hat and cane.
    “You will remember to return if you have any other documents to translate.”
    “Indeed I shall.”
    He tipped his hat, opened the door, said “Au revoir,” then