Page 72 of Rogue’s Holiday

Chastity glanced at Sir Robert, hoping he would explain. She couldn’t bring herself to describe her abduction or the night she’d spent in London as a captive and the day in a bordello. Though she remained a virgin, few would believe it.

“My lady,” Sir Robert began, “you know of my recent work for the Crown.” He did not look at Chastity as he said this, nor did he elaborate.

“Yes, that dangerous spy business you engaged in that brought those traitors to justice. I know of it.”

“What you don’t know is that some of the brigands connected with the Cato Street conspirators have learned my identity and are bent on revenge. They followed me to Brighton. Not to put too fine a point on it, but they have me in their sights. My uncle, the vicomte de Saintonge, whom you have met, and I, have been trying to ferret them out but with no success. We did not anticipate that a part of their revenge would be aimed at Miss Reynolds, with whom I have recently been keeping company.”

The countess smiled and shifted her gaze to Chastity, a pleased expression on her face.

He was a spy who served the king, a shipmaster from a fine family and a close enough friend of The Grand Countess that he could tease her. No longer could Chastity think of him as The Rogue. Though rogue he might be when it came to women, in truth, he was so much more.

A footman entered with a tray on which was set a pot of tea, three cups and a plate of sweetmeats. Chastity accepted a cup of tea, glad for something to hold in her hands.

“What has transpired in the last few days,” Sir Robert said, as the footman departed, “has not, in the smallest degree, been brought about by any action of Miss Reynolds.”

Chastity sipped the hot tea, which she found soothing. Beside her, Sir Robert took a drink from his own cup, then set it down.

“And what, exactly, has transpired, Sir Robert?” asked the countess. “Do get to the point.”

Sir Robert then explained Chastity’s kidnapping, how she ended up at Willow House and his concern for her reputation were he to escort her back to Brighton.

“The villain took you to Abigail Darkin’s house?” the countess asked Chastity. “How very fortunate for you, my dear.”

Chastity nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

“You know her?” asked Sir Robert, a perplexed expression on his handsome face.

“I know of her. She is well thought of by the ladies, including me, who have benefitted from the girls she has placed in service.”

“I had no idea,” said Sir Robert.

“Nor should you,” said the countess, shaking her head. “Moreover, I will expect you to treat them no differently now than you did before.”

“Of course.”

The countess set down her cup. “I begin to see what is needed here. I agree, you cannot very well return Chastity to Brighton. But I can, accompanied by the explanation she has been visiting the dear friend of her great-aunt, yes?”

“Exactly,” said Sir Robert. He took Chastity’s hand and gave her a fond look. “You should be aware that I have asked Miss Reynolds to marry me.”

“Told, not asked,” corrected Chastity. “And I have not accepted.”

The countess chuckled, which was remarkable given her straight posture and refined manner. “These men are all alike, my dear. They get a notion in their heads of the women they would have to wife and expect us to fall in with their plans straightaway. Though you could hardly do better than Sir Robert, the choice is yours. I, for one, am pleased he has come up to scratch.”

Chastity was taken aback. Did the countess approve his desire to marry her?

The countess leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “He is the last of the Powell brothers to marry. His mother and I were near to giving up hope. You, my dear, may be an answer to prayer.” Facing Sir Robert, she said, “Leave this dear child in my care. I have been thinking of paying Agatha a visit anyway. I will send a message to let her know she may expect us tomorrow at teatime.”

Robbie bowed before the two women. “You have my eternal gratitude, Countess.” Rising, he said, “I will leave Miss Reynolds’ portmanteau with Cruthers.” He had kept the small valise Abby had packed for Chastity in the curricle, not wishing to appear presumptuous, though he had harbored few doubts about the countess accepting the task of returning Chastity to Brighton. Muriel loved a challenge.

As he was about to take his leave, Chastity stepped close to ask, “Will you remain in London then?”

“I must. This is not yet finished and the villain remains in the city.”

Knowing she was in good hands, he kissed her on her forehead and took his leave. The Grand Countess would have outriders as well as an armed coachman to guard the women. Too, he did not think the leader of the brigands, the man he knew only as Ings, would return to Brighton anytime soon, not when he planned to meet his men at The Prospect in a few days’ time. The question was, did the leader foresee Robbie discovering his Brighton lodgings and thus obtaining the information concerning the tavern meeting? If he were very clever, he might have anticipated a spy would do just that. In which case, Robbie would be expected.

When he returned to the suite of rooms he and his uncle would share at Grillon’s, Jack was honing his knives. Six blades of different sizes were laid across the table. Jack’s shifted his gaze to Robbie as he took a seat across from him.

“Did the countess accept her mission?” Jack inquired.