Tossing her hands in the air, Simone replied, “He wants me to get married.”
“Married?” Felicity repeated. “Why now?”
“Apparently, he is tired of paying for my Seasons and three has been enough,” Simone replied.
Felicity harrumphed. “I am surprised he has even noticed you are in your third Season.”
Simone nodded in agreement. Felicity had been her lady’s maid since they had left their finishing school and they bore a striking resemblance to one another. It had come in handy a time or two since she had become a spy.
“What am I to do?” Simone asked. “I won’t marry for the sake of it, and I have far more important matters to deal with. I have yet to track down those two French spies.”
Felicity grew serious. “Have you spoken to Mr. Bolingbroke about this?”
“I have not,” Simone replied. “I can handle it on my own.”
“I thought you were assigned to work together?” Felicity asked.
Simone dropped down onto the bed. “I can’t work withMr. Bolingbroke. He vexes me. I just wish Kendrick had assigned someone else, frankly, anyone else, to work with me.”
“If you can’t stand him, why did you break cover and save his life?” Felicity asked knowingly.
She playfully narrowed her eyes. “Whose side are you on?”
Felicity laughed. “There are no sides. I am merely curious.”
“I need to leave soon and speak to my informants,” Simone said. “I hope they have discovered something of use.”
“What about Mrs. Fernsby?”
As if on cue, the door opened and her white-haired companion stepped into the room. She adjusted the thick, rounded spectacles on the top of her nose. “There you are, Child,” she admonished as she looked at Felicity. “I have been waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Felicity opened her mouth to no doubt correct her, but Simone spoke first. “She will be right down,” she said.
“What?” Mrs. Fernsby asked as she brought a hand to her right ear. “You must speak up.”
“Miss Simone will be down in a moment,” she said, raising her voice. “She just needs a moment to change.”
Mrs. Fernsby perused the length of Felicity, who wore a simple brown service gown. “Simone looks fine to me. Come along.”
Felicity lifted her brow and Simone clasped her hands together, silently pleading her to play along. After a moment, Felicity conceded, “Perhaps we can work on our needlework in the library.”
“Library, yes,” Mrs. Fernsby agreed. “The lighting is much better in there. I might just close my eyes for a minute while you work on your embroidery.”
Simone stood back as they departed from her bedchamber, pleased that she had time now to meet with her informants. But she did have to hurry. Mrs. Fernsby usually wasfooled for only so long, but her father wouldn’t notice. He never did. She could be invisible for all he cared.
She changed into a simple cotton gown and headed towards the main level.
Clarke met her in the entry hall. “I see that you tricked Mrs. Fernsby again by switching places with Felicity,” he tsked. “I wouldn’t feel as bad if she wasn’t such a crotchety old woman.”
Simone giggled. “You shouldn’t say such awful things,” she said lightly. But the truth was that she appreciated his honesty.
The humor left Clarke’s face. “Dare I ask where you are going now?”
“It is best that you didn’t know,” Simone replied. “Is the coach out front?”
“It is.”
Simone tipped her head. “Thank you, Clarke,” she said. “I shall be back shortly.”
