Chapter Two
L issa brought her horse to a halt just within the shade of the wood. She waited patiently for her groom to catch up, having raced over the fields to escape detection. It wasn’t unusual for her to ride early in the morning. In fact, she often was accompanied by one of her classmates, but this morning was different.
As the groom slowed to enter the woods, she took the coin from the pocket of her newly purchased trousers and held it ready. As soon as the young man noticed her and moved his mount forward, she spoke. “I want you to stay here until I return.”
“But I am to go with you, my lady.”
She’d given up correcting the staff after a month of being at Silver Meadows. They insisted on addressing her as “lady,” which was far from the truth. “Yes, I know. However, that is not my wish. You have done admirably to escort me thus far. Now I will continue down this path.” She pointed to the well-worn dirt track. “If I need assistance, I will whistle loudly.”
“Whistle?” The groom seemed quite taken aback by that.
She sighed. “Yes, whistle.” She puckered her lips and whistled, not too loud, but not softly either.
The groom’s eyes widened before he frowned again. “But—”
She held up her hand with the coin. “This is to keep you company. If you are here when I return, I will give you another as long as you keep my chosen clothes and my activities to yourself.”
His gazed riveted to her hand. Finally, he looked at her and nodded.
She walked her horse closer and handed him the coin. “Remember, no one is to know, not the other grooms, your family, or your lover. Understand?”
Again he nodded. “I shall wait here unless I hear a whistle, and will tell no one.”
“Good.” Turning her horse down the path, she kept it to a slower pace, not wishing to be obvious about how excited she was to see Anthony. It never behooved a woman to show she was excited to see a man she needed. And she did need Anthony, but not in the way most women needed a man. Only he could give her one last adventure. Only he knew her.
She hadn’t expected to see him again after three years had passed since he left her and her grandmother in France. Her last year in London she had spent attempting to catch the eye of well positioned men of the middle class, but Grand-maman was having none of it, saying she’d suffered too much to get them to this point and only a peer would do.
The next thing Lissa knew, she was meeting the students of the Belinda School for Curious Ladies, and despite her wish to remain apart from such aristocratic women, she’d been welcomed wholeheartedly.
It was both a relief and a problem. Tucked away at Silver Meadows, she despaired of finding a suitable man for marriage before the next Season. Suitable to her was far different than to her grandmother, who was determined to see her live out her life with a boring peer. She needed more, either the excitement of helping a husband succeed or a complete lack of attention, so she could do as she pleased. Despite multiple visits to the village of Northampton and the local parish, no middle-class prospects had come to fruition.
But Anthony, who knew who she was, would understand why a peer was out of the question. He could help her find a wealthy man, and then she could satisfy her grandmother by giving her the life she wished. In return, she could aid Anthony in his quest and enjoy one last bout of freedom. Her plan would make them all happy.
Pleased with herself, she was envisioning the future of her dreams when she sensed something different about her surroundings. She slowed her mount, noticing a distinct lack of birdsong. Was he close, or was there someone else about in the wood?
Slipping her hand beneath the large man’s shirt she wore, she grasped one of her daggers. Though she didn’t like the constriction of having her now-bigger breasts bound, she’d been careful not to impede her arm movements. If she hadn’t gained so much weight since living in England, she wouldn’t have such a problem, but living during a war, when foraging for food was the norm, was far different from living in luxury with others cooking for her, and worse, waiting upon her. Even her only pair of pantaloons had been far too tight to wear in public.
The chuff of a horse confirmed her suspicions. Directing her own mount into the wood, she turned it about and watched the path, waiting. She had learned patience, among many other skills during the war, and it felt good to be back in her own element.
The soft sound of horse hooves coming down the path had her tensing. Finally, a horse of mediocre breed came into sight with an old man upon its back. He wore dark-brown trousers and a dirty shirt. He had bushy gray brows that hid his eyes, along with equally gray hair and a long beard. She relaxed, accepting that she would have to wait a bit longer. It could very well be that she was still early.
As the old man slowly moved past, something about him caught her attention. She shook her head and smirked before raising her dagger, then sent it flying across the man’s path and into a large tree next to him. As she expected, he reacted far too quickly as he pulled on the reins, spinning his horse around, a flintlock appearing in his hand.
She laughed, walking her horse out onto the path. “You move far too fast for an old man, Anthony.”
“Lissa! How did you know?” He shook his head as he returned the gun to its hiding place.
“Old men don’t sit straight in the saddle.” She grinned, pleased that she’d recognized him, despite his disguise. She waved toward his clothing. “Does your investigation require such subterfuge?”
He brought his horse up next to hers, so they were face to face. “It does, mainly to keep my real identity from being discovered. I find dressing as a villager makes it easy for me to be overlooked by the gentleman I’m following.”
Though she couldn’t see his mouth well with all the hair, his blue eyes shone with glee. Anthony had always enjoyed surprising others.
“I see you have also disguised yourself.” He held his hand out toward her. “This is the Lissa I remember.”
Relieved that her clothing had done what she’d hoped, reminded him of who she was and their friendship, she shrugged. “It is what I am most comfortable wearing.” She dismounted, holding the reins of her horse. “How fares your investigation?”
His posture slumped, much like it should have when he rode the path. “Not as quickly as I hoped. The man I watch spends far too much time with women.” He dismounted as well and brought his horse next to hers. “At first, I thought it was to hide his real activities, but now I fear women are his primary goal, while the weapon he came into possession of is merely a distraction. I sincerely hoped it would be the opposite.” His gaze wandered as he appeared to review the many details in his mind.
That concerned her, not only because she knew how much he enjoyed discovering answers, but also because this time it had to do with her friend Dory. “Is the lord’s interest in his ladies not enough for what you need to protect Lady Harewood?”
He returned his gaze to her and shook his head. “I’m afraid much of it would be more damaging to said ladies than to the viscount, so it is of little worth to me.”
That he spoke freely to her of the ladies had her feeling much more confident that their friendship was back to how it had always been. “Then perhaps what I discovered about the weapon may be of help.”
He straightened, immediately focusing his attention on her. “Yes. Tell me what you have found.”
Though she hated to stretch their friendship, survival, as always, remained her first priority. “I do believe one of the two drawings I made will be your weapon. However, I also need help, and I’m hoping you can be of assistance.”
“Of course. You know I would be happy to aid you in whatever it is you need.”
Beyond pleased with his offer, she gave him a smile. “ Merci . I knew I could depend upon you. I need your help in finding a very wealthy tradesman or merchant to wed.”
The bushy gray brows lifted. “I was under the impression that you would be coming out in the next Season.”
“That is what is expected, which is why it’s imperative that I find a husband before then. Grand-maman wishes me to wed a peer so she may have a comfortable old age. I cannot fathom being married to an aristocrat.” She placed one hand on her hip and cocked her head. “Truly, can you see me married to a Lord Stiffboard, or worse, Lord Boring?”
Anthony nodded. “I do see your dilemma. But it might not be as bad as all that. There are many good chaps like Lord Blackmore who might be very enjoyable company.”
She just stared at him, waiting for him to come to the same conclusion she had. Though she did need to provide for her grandmother, and she didn’t look for love, since she’d already loved and lost, she couldn’t imagine having to pretend to be an aristocrat for the rest of her life and do nothing but host visitors and make babies.
“What?” He lifted his shoulders. “It’s possible.”
She shook her head, a bit disappointed. “Look at me. This is what makes me happy. Do you see me happy, even with a man like the Captain?”
“But I thought you enjoyed the Belinda School for Curious Ladies and all that you are learning there?”
She hadn’t understood how strong his beliefs in Society were until just now. She sighed. “I thought you, of anyone, would understand.”
His shoulders tensed and he looked about, obviously uncomfortable. “In truth, I suppose I do, far more than you know. I also find the rules of Society tiresome more often than not and do not abide by them. But I am a man.”
Seeing her opportunity, she grabbed his wrist. “Yes. But I cannot do as you. My only chance at a contented life is to find someone who is not anxious to be accepted, but happy in their own right, who doesn’t need a lady wife.” She squeezed, hoping he could understand.
Finally, his arm turned within her grip, and he wrapped his hand around her wrist.
Relief flew through her. It was their grip, a sign of solidarity with each that other they only used when in a crisis.
“I pledge to aid you, even if I’m not completely convinced it’s the right course.”
“ Merci, mon ami. ” She released his arm, and he did likewise. Now she could freely turn to other matters.
“Of course. But I won’t be able to introduce you to anyone until I have found what Lord Harewood is searching for with Lord Leighhall. I must complete this task first.”
Worry slipped up her back. She barely had three months. “How long will that be?”
“I could be done in a month or two, but it may take longer. It depends on what you have found for me.” His beard appeared to lift, so she could only guess that he grinned.
Non , there would not be enough time. Frantically, she searched for a solution, unwilling to come so close to achieving her goal of marrying on her terms. She had despaired until Anthony had walked into her life. He was her only chance. “I cannot wait so long. Allow me to help with your investigation beyond the research. With both of us, we can solve it sooner.” And she could enjoy one last escapade.
He shook his head, but she refused to give up. “In fact, as you go about following Lord Leighhall, I could help. There are many things a boy”—she gestured to her trousers and vest—“or a woman can learn that a man cannot.”
He’d stopped shaking his head, but the gray, bushy brows were lowered.
“And like you, I can be disguised as a maid or a countess if needed.” When he didn’t say anything, she tugged on his memory. “Or I can be a frail old lady who is just looking for her lost chicken.”
He shook his head again even as his brow puckered. “I still do not know how you convinced that merchant that your darling Rosalie had escaped her pen and joined him.”
She lowered her voice and made it shake. “But I so love my dear Rosalie.”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling beneath the bushy eyebrows. “Yes, so much that you had her for dinner.”
She shrugged, going back to her normal voice. “True, and she gladly gave her life so that we could live another day.” She sobered. “Allow me to assist you, Anthony. You know I can help.”
“I do know you could, but you are a lady now.”
She wrinkled her nose at him and held out her arms. “This is me. I can be many people, but I am not a lady at heart.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly considering her request, but having difficulty accepting. “Even if I say yes, I never know where I will be. It’s not as if you can leave the school.” He resumed shaking his head. “I—”
“Dory. I can ask Dory to help. She can invite me to Denton Hall. She has before. No one ever questioned it. If you need to travel, I can go with you, dressed like this, and no one will know. I know Dory will keep my secret.”
He stopped shaking his head, but was obviously not convinced.
She held out her hand, palm up, imploring him to understand. “What is the worst that could occur? I could be discovered and considered no longer a lady, but I am that now. So no true harm is done, except that I would then be forced to be a mistress in order to keep Grand-maman as she wishes.” She could tell he wavered, his gaze giving him away as he thought of all the possibilities and problems. “And if there is someone you think I should meet along the way, I’ll happily dress accordingly and do my best to charm them. It could well happen that I become betrothed before your investigation is even complete.”
She was quite certain his lips quirked up based on the movement of the beard.
“You have always known how to sway me.” He paused. “However, you are far above being a mistress and do deserve to live a comfortable life after all you have endured and all you have done for the Captain.” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to object. “Allow me my piece. I do understand your request and your limited time, so yes, you may aid me in my investigation, but only in ways that I feel will keep your identity hidden and your reputation intact.”
It wasn’t what she wanted, but she was quite sure she could obtain no more…for the moment. “I understand. Now, do be plain about what you need to accomplish in order that we may search for my future husband posthaste.”
“You must not share this with anyone. Do I have your promise?”
“You do.”
He hesitated as if trying to determine how best to explain.
She let out a loud sigh. “Truly, Anthony. Out with it. This is me, Lissette.”
From the movement of his frame, he silently chuckled. “Thank you for the reminder. My goal in this investigation is to find something that Viscount Leighhall would prefer not become public knowledge.”
It sounded as if Dory’s husband wanted to blackmail the lord. “Why?”
“Viscount Leighhall became a bit obsessed with Lady Harewood before she married. He set out to ruin her reputation by putting her mother in a compromising position.”
She waved him off. “Yes, I know all about that.”
“You do?”
“As I said, Dory is a dear friend.”
“Then I should tell you that Lord Harewood is worried that since he married your friend, Viscount Leighhall was not able to complete his plan against her. Since the viscount never forgets what he considers a slight, Lord Harewood would like information on the lord to ensure he does not make any further attempt to hurt Lady Harewood’s character.”
Even as Anthony explained the situation, she felt herself burning with anger. Poor Dory was helpless in the situation and never invited the problem. It was a feeling she, herself, had felt many times. “Then have you determined what would make the errant viscount toe the line?”
Anthony pulled his head back, clearly surprised by her question. “I will not know that until I can determine what his secrets are.”
She cocked her head. “But if his secrets are only from a particular mistress, they would not be of great value. However, if he is concerned about his standing in Parliament, then learning a secret about that would be better. If we know what he values, then perhaps we can narrow our focus.”
“That is very true.” At his excitement, his horse shuffled, pushing into hers.
Quickly, she guided hers away before halting.
He moved closer once again. “That is something I need to think about. In the meantime, you did say that you have identified the strange weapon?”
Having completely forgotten about her research, she hastened to pull the sheets of paper from her vest pocket. “I have two possibles.” She separated the pages, holding out one in each hand for him to peruse.
“That’s it.” He pointed to the one in her right hand. “What is it?”
She looked at the paper. “That is a sword breaker.” She gave him the paper and folded the other one, returning it to her pocket.
“A sword breaker? I’ve never heard of this. What do you know of it?”
She pointed to the paper. “I know that some collectors are having these made, so it could be a question of whether it is from the seventeenth century, where it wasn’t used often, or if it was made in this century. It is a main gauche —left hand—weapon to be used when fighting with swords.”
He studied the drawing. “I can see how these cuts between the arrow-shaped steel separators could capture a sword, but can it actually break a sword?”
She shrugged. “It is difficult to know. I imagine in the time period they were used, when swords were more likely to break, they could. However, capturing a sword is more advantageous than breaking one, as your opponent would be open to a thrust.”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “That’s true. I forget you have so much knowledge on weapons. So I have one last question for you about this. Why would someone obtain such a weapon?”
That was something she’d been thinking about as she galloped across the fields. “I believe it depends upon the age. If it is an authentic sword breaker, I imagine a person wishes it for a collection. I have seen two country estate houses since arriving here that have elaborate arms displays.”
“And if it was forged today?”
“If it is a new version of this old weapon, then it may be wanted for battle of some kind. It’s not for the purposes of a stealthy assignation, but rather a defensive weapon that also can serve in an offensive capacity if one were expecting to be attacked with a sword, which seems highly unlikely here.”
His gaze moved back to her drawing once more. “Unless it is not to be used here in England—or if it is, a challenge is expected to be thrown down.” He folded the paper along the creases she had made. “Thank you for this. You have given me much to contemplate.”
“Myself as well, especially as it pertains to Dory.”
He slipped the paper into a pocket in his own vest, which didn’t quite button over whatever he’d used for padding his torso. “I do not think it directly relates to Lady Harewood. So there is no need to worry.” Turning, he mounted up.
Quickly, she pulled herself up onto her own mount, so as not to be forgotten so quickly. “What is our next step?”
He stiffened, but he didn’t shake his head this time. “I don’t know, as I can only follow and watch for now. I will send you word when we can next meet.” He lifted the reins in his hands, turning his mount around.
She gave him a hard look and spoke in a strong tone. “Do not forget me, mon ami .”
At her French, he halted, turning his head to look at her. “I promise, I will not. You have already proven invaluable to me.”
Convinced he was sincere, she gave a nod. “Until then.”
She flicked the reins and headed back toward Silver Meadows with a new hope filling her. There had to be a wealthy merchant looking for a wife somewhere in Lord Leighhall’s travels, and if not, she’d just have to find out what the lord hid as soon as she possibly could. In the meantime, she would look forward to escaping the confines of the Belinda School for Curious Ladies.
As she came upon her groom, he mounted up. “Glad I am to see you, my lady.”
She bit her tongue and handed him another coin. “We’d best make haste if we are to get back to the stables without being seen.” She didn’t wait for him to acknowledge her statement, but sent her horse into a gallop across the field.
As soon as they arrived, she left her mount in the groom’s skilled hands and headed for the servants’ entrance. When she’d first arrived at Silver Meadows, she had chosen the room closest to the servant stairs. Her choice had proven well made more than once. No one noticed one more servant in such a large household.
Quickly, she strode through the herb garden and up the back stairs, her step lighter than it had been in months. As much as she preferred to keep her plans to herself, she was finding that having help was indeed beneficial. She had complete confidence that Anthony wouldn’t tell anyone. Even in France, he’d kept her secrets from her grandmother, though there weren’t many. He would keep this one, too.
Reaching the top of the stairs, she halted and looked around the corner. No one was about. She walked to her door and slipped inside, pleased that no one had seen her. Turning toward her armoire, she halted in surprise.
“Where have you been, and why are you dressed like that?”