Chapter Three
While the others had chased after clues to Honfleur’s true purpose in coming to England, Navan had been presented the duty of organizing the residence the government would use to spy on Amgen House, the London address Honfleur had let for what remained of the Season.
Marksman and Lionel Carter had, prior to the marquis’s arrival, gone through Amgen House and drawn a sketch of each room, stairs, windows, and so forth.
In that manner, Navan was able to set up telescopes to watch specific rooms. Even before Honfleur’s daughter had arrived, Navan had become fascinated by Miss Moreau.
He did not watch her in private moments in her quarters, but he did watch her more than any of the other players in this investigation.
When she dusted the furniture in the front sitting room, she danced about just as if each piece of furniture were her next partner in the set.
Why she was made to assist in the dusting when she was Honfleur’s niece, Navan could not say, but her joy in those private moments, when she curtsied to a chair, had touched him as nothing had done in longer than he could name.
He watched that particular room with exclusivity until he spotted the young woman through a small window in what was surely a drying room.
It had taken him most of one day to determine what she was doing, but when he did, Navan found himself more than a bit impressed.
She had paused at the small window with a rapier resting across her chest and shoulder.
Strands of her hair had come free of her loose chignon and there was a patina of sweat across her cheeks and nose.
His member swelled as an image of her beneath him flashed before his eyes.
He casually adjusted himself, but he did not look away.
Good to feel something genuine, his mind announced.
It has been so long where I have completed what was necessary, but nothing has brought even this minute sense of anticipation.
A movement on the usually quiet street drew his attention to a carriage coasting to a stop before Amgen House.
Navan recognized the driver as being the one Lord Honfleur had brought with him.
“So the daughter has arrived,” he murmured.
“Let us have a look.” He shifted his position so he might look through the smaller of the scopes and not alter the setting so he still might spy on the attic and Miss Moreau.
Honfleur stepped down and then turned to reach a hand back for his daughter. The young woman stood by while her father gave instructions regarding the disposition of her few trunks.
She glanced at the house in which he hid, but Navan did not move.
She would require more than excellent vision actually to view him.
Yet, he saw her well. Black hair, his mind registered, but the girl’s locks are thinner and straighter than those of her cousin.
The woman was fair of face, but not beautiful.
Nothing breath-taking about her. There are hundreds of passable young women in London.
Tell me how I am to woo someone who is simply ordinary, at best? ”
Audrey had been watching for Caroline’s arrival. She had missed having her cousin’s company, for Uncle Jacobi had been quite furious when Audrey had not retrieved the note supposedly waiting for her in the ladies’ withdrawing room at the masque.
Though he had not struck her, her uncle’s refusal to speak to her, even over the breakfast table, which was generally the only meal they shared, was as damning as if he had used his fists upon her.
He often looked up to where she sat and shook his head in disapproval.
No words. Just a scowl, while she wished to disappear.
It was a technique Uncle Jacobi employed often with her, but never with Caroline.
Of late, Audrey had begun to wonder why her uncle had come for her in Honduras if he despised her as much as he appeared to do.
He had gained nothing financially or socially.
Just another mouth to feed, she thought.
Despite her desire to avoid her uncle, when the carriage rolled to a stop before the house, Audrey rushed to open the door for the only family she knew.
Her efforts, at least, had been welcomed by her cousin.
Caroline caught Audrey in a large embrace.
“I am glad you arrived safely,” Audrey declared as she turned Caroline’s steps towards the interior of the house.
“I have set up your room just as you like it.”
“At least she performs for your benefit,” her Uncle Jacobi grumbled as he handed off his hat and gloves to Mrs. Sable, the housekeeper.
“None of your dudgeon, Father. Audrey just requires a bit more training,” Caroline said as she continued to hold Audrey’s hand in solidarity.
“She is hopeless,” Uncle Jacobi announced as he turned in the direction of his study. “When you are settled in, Caroline, please join me. I have plans to arrange.”
“Assist me with my things,” Caroline said as she tugged Audrey along behind her, “and tell me about the masque.”
Audrey would have preferred to return to the attic where she could pretend she was a lady at a ball and a handsome man had chosen her above all others in attendance.
In those private moments, she was no longer the cousin with no family.
Audrey did not dream of being a princess in a fairy tale, just the wife of a man who appreciated her in his life.
The next few days were easier at Amgen House.
Though he did not actually offer Audrey a compliment, her uncle had not continuously criticized her.
Often, before coming to England, she felt invisible, but she had come to consider being invisible as a blessing.
On this day, Caroline was to fetch a note from one of his lordship’s associates.
Caroline’s maid, Mathild, had accompanied Audrey’s cousin.
Audrey had wished for a bit of time outside the house, but she did not ask to be included.
Of late, she had come to believe the further away she was from her uncle’s business, whatever it truly was, the better for her.
She told the young maid, “I dusted all the main rooms on this level. Soon we should take up the rug in the small sitting room and present it a good beating.”
“I’ll tell Mrs. Sable, miss. Thank you for continuing to assist with the chores.”
Audrey did not tell the girl that such had always been expected of her.
Instead, she said, “I mean to be in the weapons’ room.
Seek me there if you have a need of me.” As she started away, she playfully shook her finger at the girl.
“You are not to lift the large chest in the blue bedchamber alone. Even empty, it shall be too hard for you to execute without assistance.”
Reaching the drying attic, the area customarily used in the winter for drying clothes and linens, she claimed a ribbon from her pocket to tie her hair back away from her face.
From habit, she wandered over to the corner window to have a look out on the street.
She briefly wondered if her mother had ever walked these streets.
“Assuredly she did not. We were never rich enough to be permitted in this part of London,” she whispered to the scene below.
With a sigh of resignation, she turned to retrieve her sword, but a flick of the drape at one of the windows across the street caught her attention.
It was not the first time she had noted a similar movement.
She supposed many in the area were interested in her uncle’s presence at Amgen House.
However, she had often been tempted to wave to the movement.
“Not tauntingly,” she said softly as she watched the window for more evidence of a person’s presence there.
She thought she felt the person’s eyes on her.
“It would be lovely to have a friend of my own. One who would be happy just to see me. Even if we never met, we could write a message and secure it to the window.”
Impulsively, she gave a little wave before turning to her practice.
Navan could not resist the burst of laughter rushing to his lips.
Thankfully, for the moment, he was alone and watching the comings and goings at Amgen House.
Hartley was to fetch them a supply of foodstuffs and coffee and brandy while several of the government men followed both Honfleur and the man’s daughter, Lady Caroline.
Navan had come to enjoy these private moments.
“The chit had the audacity to wave at me,” he announced aloud to the empty room.
“So, she has been quick enough to realize someone in the house occasionally, actually constantly, but she likely thinks it is occasionally, looks out his or her window to note the goings on across the street with their new neighbors. Both bright and beautiful.”
Just to respond without exposing himself or his mission, Navan rushed over first to the middle window’s drape on this side and gave it a slight tug to indicate he had straightened it.
Then he did the same for the last of the windows facing Amgen House from the corner rooms on this particular edifice.
He watched those at Amgen House for a quarter hour before he gave up on the idea that she would respond in some manner.
Most assuredly, hers was an impulsive gesture, he thought.
The lady was not attempting to communicate with me, but would it not be grand if we could write messages to each other on the frosted-over windows of winter.
Not possible in late May, though. With a sigh of resignation he sat heavily in the straight-backed chair and watched the house with the telescope to view it closer.
Probably practicing with her sword. Very much like Theodora in that manner.
I wonder if she is better than Theodora.
That would be a match I would wish to view.
My money would be on Miss Moreau. A red-headed temper is hard to beat.