The next day, the garden tea party organized by Lady Gilcrest lured all the guests outside. Vivian and Gabrielle had joined Grayson, Tyler, and their governess on a blanket nearby. They had their tea cakes as a picnic while they let the puppies play on the lawn. The tinkling of silver on china mixed with the sounds of laughter and polite conversation. Vivian’s gaze wandered around the tables on the veranda.
Spotting Jack at a table on the far side, she admired how fine he looked in his cream-colored pants and fitted, light blue jacket. They hadn’t had an opportunity to see each other since their reconciliation yesterday, as every moment of the day seemed orchestrated with precision by the Duchess. Jack rose and bowed to the table, then walked into the house. That's curious. Where was he off to? Her instincts told her something was afoot. But what?
“Please, excuse me. I forget my bonnet inside. I am beginning to fry out here in the hot sun.” Vivian said. Gabrielle shot her a strange look, but Vivian ignored her and hurried across the lawn. She went inside through the doors Jack had just entered. She emerged into the front hallway just in time to see him head around the corner.
Following him silently in her satin-slippered feet, she wondered why he headed for the guest wing. She waited at the bottom of the stairs until she heard him reach the first landing, then followed. As she got to the top, Vivian peered down the hallway and watched him slip into a bedroom which was not his. Vivian chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. She needed to find out what he was up to.
She headed down the corridor and turned the knob as quietly as she could, entering the room. “Jack?” She called out.
Across the room, Jack rifled through the desk. Whirling around, he crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her in by the hand and softly shutting the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a low voice.
“Following you, of course. What are you doing here?” she countered.
He paused, a guilty expression on his face.
“Are you meeting someone? A woman?” She put her hands on her hips, giving him her best glare. Then she looked around the room, trying to figure out to whom it belonged.
“What? No. Darling, how can you even think that? I thought I made my intentions toward you very clear.”
“Well, what are you doing in someone else’s bedroom in the middle of the day?”
Jack ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the door. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation now. Look, let’s get out of here. We will go take a walk in the gardens and talk.”
He crossed to the door, but there were voices in the hallway. He motioned with his finger for her to be quiet.
A muffled voice carried through the wood door. “I’ll freshen up, then I will meet you downstairs for a drink. I need one after being stuck with Fairly’s ninny of a daughter during the tea today.” The man’s voice carried a French accent.
Jack grabbed Vivian’s hand and pulled her across the room to a door connecting it to the next guest room. She didn’t protest, but she hoped the adjoining room was empty, or it would indeed be hard to explain what they were doing bursting in. Jack opened the door and ushered her through. He closed it silently behind them as they heard the other door open and shut.
Quickly they crossed the room to the door leading out to the hallway. Jack opened it a crack, scanning the area. Again, he grabbed Vivian’s hand, and they stepped out into the corridor, moving swiftly toward the front stairway. She kept quiet the whole time as they exited the house. Tension rolled off Jack in waves. What in bloody hell was going on? As they walked down to the lake, she stopped to face him.
“You better tell me what that was all about. And don’t even thinking of lying. I’ll know.”
He sighed. “I won’t lie. Ask me anything.”
“Whose room was that?”
“Count Moreau’s.”
“Why were you in there looking through his desk?”
He glanced around. “Here, let’s walk. I don’t need anyone to overhear our conversation.” They strolled farther along the path. “I am not sure where to start. Count Moreau is suspected of funneling confidential government information to Napoleon. He has someone helping him, someone who has access to the Foreign Office. I am trying to find out who his contact person is.”
She blew out a breath, trying to comprehend. “So, what you’re saying is you are…a spy?”
“I have been called upon occasionally by the government to ferry intelligence or sometimes agents. My shipping business makes for an excellent cover.” His expression remained impassive.
She allowed his confession to sink in. “I knew there was plenty I didn’t yet know about you, but a spy for the government, that I did not imagine.” She searched his face. Perhaps somehow if she looked hard enough, she could decipher the real man behind his many facades. She lifted a hand to his cheek and ran her fingers down along his jaw. Even though he had made no promises to her, told her no outright lies, she still felt…betrayed. Vivian let her hand slip away. “I don’t know you at all.”
His composure cracked, and Jack moved to capture her hand, but she jerked it out of his reach. He looked as though she’d slapped him across the face again.
“Listen…” he started.
But she shook her head. How much more had he withheld from her about his life? She had let the man steal her heart, and she didn’t know who he was at all. She turned to pace away from him. A government spy? What did that even entail? A thousand questions came to mind. Had he been a spy while he worked for her father? Did he ever find himself in dangerous situations? Her heart constricted at the thought of Jack risking his life to gain secret information in the fight against the French.
His voice strained, he tried again to explain. “Listen, I didn’t tell you about my work with the government because frankly, it’s a secret. I am not at liberty to discuss my work with anyone.”
