Unmasking the Spy Read Free Page B

for speaking
such thoughtless words and betraying her blatant eavesdropping. She was
definitely going to have to work on her spying.
    “That is,” Alicia continued in a
rush, “I accepted the Montgomery’s dinner invitation some time ago, and it
would be horribly rude for me not to attend. As I planned to go with friends, Louis
need not accompany me. The hostess isn’t even expecting him…” Alicia trailed
off.
    Her father blinked at her and
then cast his gaze to the ceiling. He was probably wishing he’d beaten her
after all.
    Louis sniffed and tossed his
head. “Eight o’clock, then. Be ready.”
    Alicia watched through narrowed
eyes as he inclined his head to her father and left. Apparently, his legs had
healed well enough to enable his signature foppish mince.
    Her father turned to look at her,
but before her eyes could meet his, Alicia snatched up her skirts and spun on
her toes to race back up the stairs. She had until eight o’clock to work on her
plan.

CHAPTER TWO
     
    Ian Morrissey lounged against a
decorative column and wondered how long he had to suffer the stifling whirlwind
of people. He reached in his waistcoat to pull out his watch. Half past ten. He
would much rather be home, looking for an innocent country miss to settle down
with, maybe raise a family – not playing the fancy for this town of vipers. If
Caspian didn’t show in the next quarter hour, he’d retrieve his coach and leave
London for the last time.
    “Boo.”
    Ian was unsurprised to discover
Caspian had materialized at his side. “Invisible as ever, I see. Is the hostess
even aware you are a guest in her home?”
    Caspian smiled, a tiny dimple in
his left cheek the only thing that interrupted his otherwise bland looks.
“Come, let’s slip out to the gardens for a moment.”
    Rather than being a curse to
Caspian’s everyman persona, the dimple afforded him an ageless quality, so that
witnesses never could quite describe him in years or in looks. He was of
average height and average build, with brownish hair and brownish eyes, with
clothes that were neither dowdy enough nor fancy enough to cause any notice,
and a mind that amazed the mightiest of men, making him an indispensable agent
in his particular branch of the government. A branch of the government Ian had
been only too pleased to divorce when Napoleon fell.
    “Well, what’s the problem?” he
groused, folding his arms across his chest. “You said it’s a personal favor?”
    “I’m doing lovely, old friend,
thank you for your kind inquiry.” Caspian smiled impishly.  “Now, on to
business, shall we?”
    At Ian’s raised eyebrow,
Caspian’s expression turned serious. “During the war, I admired your courage
and tenacity both on the battlefield and behind the scenes doing, shall we say,
more delicate work. To this day, I also respect your mind, which I hereby
request to take advantage of. As a friend.”
    Ian uncrossed his arms. Caspian
had better have a good reason for luring him here. Ian would have been glad to
give advice from Heatherley.
    Caspian stifled a sneeze. Ian
sniffed the air – not roses, something else. He’d never been adept at
deciphering flower scents. But spring was almost here, and any moment the
garden might fill with couples spilling from the ballroom. Caspian glanced along
the path to ensure their seclusion, and then refocused his eyes on Ian.
    “This particular inquiry is much
different from those days. Jewels have been stolen from several influential
families. Seven or more thefts over just as many months.”
    Caspian paused to withdraw a
cigar from his vest pocket. He held one out to Ian, who shook his head
impatiently. Caspian shrugged, lit the end, and took a swift puff before
continuing. His words unfurled from his mouth in curly tufts of smoke.
    “At the request of certain
parties, I have followed the trail to London, but haven’t determined the
mastermind.”
    With a wave of his hand, Caspian
indicated a stone bench, but Ian