Mary betrayed nary a flinch, but a footman dressed in unsightly green livery leapt to protect her, stepping in front of her, ready to defend Mary from the noisy intruder. But the moment Gabriel saw the golden-eyed man with whom she stood, he felt the complete fool.
He quickly closed the door behind him and entered the room to stand before Mary and the footman. “Sir Bramwell Stevens. My apologies. I did not know you would be here.”
He shook his fellow spy’s hand.
Stevens grinned. “What the devil did you think was happening in here, Gabe, to make you crash in like that? And please, it’s just Stevens. I don’t like thisSirnonsense.”
“Nothing, I assure you,” Gabe lied.
“Stevens’ pseudonym is ‘Smithe,’” Mary said. “Hydra informed us that he was a footman for the Marquess of Hale, if you will recall.”
Gabe affected a mock half bow. “Anthony Spencer at your service. You already know Mary White.”
Stevens’ lips curved up in a half smile. “Indeed, I do.” He lifted Mary’s hand to his lips and gave it a lingering kiss.
Mary giggled, her other hand coming up to cover her perfect, smiling mouth.
Damn Stevens, anyway. He was as bad as Hugh and Colin, the incorrigible flirts.
Gabe grabbed Mary’s free hand, pulling her to his side and away from Stevens. “That is enough of that. From this point on, we do not know each other.”
Stevens bowed. “Of course, sir.”
Gabe turned to Mary. “We have some searching to do.”
With another wink, Stevens slunk from the room, leaving Gabe and Mary alone in the guest bedchamber. It was an exact copy of their room, except this one was ornamented not in puce, but sunshine yellow. It was too cheery for Gabe’s current mood.
He was suddenly very aware that he was still holding Mary’s hand…and that he rather enjoyed the sensation. He quickly released her.
“Shall we begin with the downstairs study?” He forced a smile.
“Of course.” She linked her hand around his elbow. “Do you know the way?”
“Not at all, but I imagine it should not be difficult to find. Is it not the room with a desk, a chair, and correspondence and such?”
* * *
Mary sent Gabe a sideways glance for his sarcasm. They continued down the hall, searching, for Lord Kerr’s study as insouciantly as possible. This assignment would be simpler if they had come as servants, as they could come and go from rooms and bedchambers without inquiry. Mary knew better than to question Hydra’s methods, however, and her role as Miss White the actress has already been established.
As much as Mary had been enjoying the sweet torture of Gabriel and the excitement of the hunt for Bonaparte’s spies, she was concerned. Anthony Walstone, the Viscount Boxton was at the house party, and that boded ill. Despite having given him a warm greeting, Mary hated to admit that she was frightened of the green-eyed devil.
“This one,” Gabe murmured in her ear.
She jumped slightly at the interruption to her thoughts. Goodness, had they reached the study already? She did not even recall descending the stairs.
“Are you well, Mary?” Gabe gazed down at her, a concerned frown marring his perfect brow.
Mary forced herself to smile. “Of course, Tony.”
She entered first into the empty study. It was perfectly ordered, not a single item out of place. A large mahogany desk stood in the centre of the square room, and a tall leather wingback chair behind it. One grand rouge brocade rug lay on the floor, nearly covering the entire surface of the room.
Despite the tidy appearance, the room held the odour of books, cigars, and cheap brandy.
Gabe let out a low whistle and Maryshushedhim.
“What?” Gabe feigned innocence. “I’ve never seen a study so immaculate before.”
“We had best be careful of what we touch. Someone as fastidious as this likely takes particular notice of the precise placement of their things.”
