Page 13 of The Wallflower Ruse
He already knew all this, which was the opposite of reassuring. “Then it’s Miss Belair who replaced the message.”
“Why would she do that? Did you read it? How can you know it’s not the same?”
“Because I couldn’t decipher it.” He took his coat, which he had thrown over the back of a chair upon arriving a few minutes earlier, and began to empty the pockets. “I spent half the night working on it and got nowhere. My contact in France wouldn’t send me nonsense.” Except the nonsense of the love letter by an apocryphal mistress. There was always a red herring in his contact’s messages, and in this case, it was also his idea of a jest. “She must have replaced it.”
“For heaven’s sake, why would she? She’s a loyal Englishwoman, not a French spy.”
“She says she has a small inheritance to look forward to, but until then she must find work as a teacher.” He paused. “If she wasn’t lying, that is. I don’t trust her.” He pulled out a folded wad of papers.
“Why not? She’s a lovely girl and a good friend. She trusted you to bring her safely to London, despite your reputation.”
“That’s part of the problem. She didn’t flirt, she didn’t simper, and she recovered immediately from what little confusion I could induce in her. She didn’t behave like a woman usually does, and—”
Dorothea broke into laughter. “You’re upset because she wasn’t trying to trap you.” She doubled over with hilarity.
“Not exactly,” he protested, smiling despite himself. Dorothea was married to his closest friend, Cecil Hale, and was one of the few ladies with whom he could relax. “Very well, I’m used to being fawned over, but... You know what it was? It’s that I knew her as a child, and that she’s intelligent and quick-thinking, and she was so convincing in her frankness that I simply couldn’t believe it. I’d much rather believe her innocent, but when the message made no sense...”
He dug in the other pocket and pulled out more folded papers and a pistol.
Cecil Hale appeared in the doorway. “Look who’s here to see you, Dot!”
Lucinda Belair walked into the room.
~ * ~
Lucinda first saw Lord Restive—and then the pistol. Terror rolled over her like a heavy mist. The valise slipped to the floor.
She would not faint, she would not. She grabbed a chair until it passed.
“Lucy, dear!” Dorothea said. “How lovely to see you. Ah, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she protested, her heart thudding so fast she could hardly breathe. “Just—just sudden fatigue. I walked all the way from Mr. Williams. Our solicitor, you know. To—to tell him about my sister’s elopement. But of course you don’t know about that.”
“I do know, darling. Lord Restive told me. He said he left you with your old governess. I’m so glad you’ve come to call, or...” She noticed the valise. “To stay awhile?”
“Yes, if you’ll have me. Miss Pringle is not in town, and I didn’t like to trouble her sister for more than one night.” Lucinda composed herself and nodded to Lord Restive. “We meet again, my lord. How unexpected.”
“Isn’t it,” Restive said flatly. He pocketed the pistol and eyed her, his sardonic expression harder and colder than ever.
“Excuse me,” Lucinda said politely, “I hesitate to disturb you, but I should like to speak privately with Mrs. Hale. I’m afraid it’s rather urgent.”
Dorothea shooed the men out of the room and shut the door. “What is it, Lucy?”
Lucinda glanced at the door and moved to the far side of the room. “I don’t want him to hear,” she said just above a whisper.
“Who? Lord Restive?”
Lucinda nodded, glancing back at the door. “I don’t trust him. I’m afraid that...”
“Calm down, Lucy. There’s nothing to fear.” Dorothea led her to the sofa.
“I can’t be calm,” Lucinda said. “I borrowed a book of his, and it had a secret message in it in code. Can you bring it to your father? I don’t know anyone else in the Home Office, and I—”
Dorothea interrupted. “How did you know there was a message in code?”
She flapped a hand. “My father taught me a lot about codes. This one was quite simple. I decoded it before I returned the book to Lord Restive.”
“You did? Oh, you clever, clever girl!”
