unexceptionable reason to spend time together.”
“And how would this end? How long is this charade to continue?”
“Once I have identified the Spanish network, I would hope to have our own infiltration in place within a few weeks…by the end of the season, if at all possible.”
“Around three months, then,” Aurelia said, absently chewing her bottom lip.
“It may take longer, but I would hope it doesn’t.”
“And then what? What happens to this fictitious engagement of ours?”
“Once this mission is complete, I’ll be sent abroad again.” He shrugged a little. “I will make sure to give you a good reason for calling off the engagement. If we time it well, the announcement of its end can be made when most people are out of town. By the time society returns after the summer, it’ll be almost forgotten. I willhave left town, and you will have Frederick’s pension to augment your present funds.”
Aurelia turned back to the window. She didn’t want those uncomfortably piercing eyes on her face as she thought over his proposition. Even a small addition to her funds would enable her to manage a modest household of her own in town…with the right economies, of course, but she was already expert at making those. And if her friends wondered how she was managing to fund an independent lifestyle, she could always hint vaguely that Markby had been persuaded to disgorge more from the trust…either that or some distant relative could leave her with a small windfall. It could be done.
Once again she thought that if Harry had asked her, she would have agreed instantly. But Harry didn’t send prickles up her spine or cause that strange pulsing energy that seemed to have no rhyme or reason. There was danger in the colonel’s company, she knew it instinctively, but she couldn’t identify what form it took. Certainly the work he was asking her to do had little enough of danger about it. Or, at least, not the way he was presenting it. For the sake of her country, she should do this. But something held her back.
Finally she turned round to face him again. She steepled her fingers at her mouth, frowning at him. “I need time to think this over.”
A flash of disappointment crossed his eyes, then he stepped away from the fireplace. “Of course. But I wouldask that you do not think overlong. Time is of the essence, and there are advance preparations we have to make.” He picked up his hat and whip from a chair by the door and bowed. “I bid you good morning, Aurelia.”
“Good morning.” The door closed behind him and she listened for the sound of the front door signaling his departure. Then she left the breakfast parlor and went upstairs to her chamber, where she sat on the window seat and reread Frederick’s letter…over and over.
Chapter Six
A URELIA SPEND THE REMAINDER of the morning in a haze of reflection. What exactly would be involved in a romantic interest between her and the colonel? Could she play such a role convincingly enough to fool her friends, sharp-eyed Nell in particular? There would have to be an appearance of developing intimacy, of growing affection. She wasn’t even sure if she could remember now what that had felt like with Frederick. They had known each other since either could remember, and she couldn’t identify a particular moment when the affection of close friendship had deepened into love. She couldn’t for the life of her decide what she felt about Greville…or so she must get used to calling him if she was to do this thing. Her attitude to him was so mixed up with her hurt and anger at Frederick, but surely it wasn’t entirely just to blame Greville? Frederick had had a mind of his own. He was no man’s puppet. If she was to see her way clearly, she must finda way to separate the colonel from her dead husband.
When Morecombe opened the parlor door, she was so startled she dropped her embroidery needle. “What is it, Morecombe?”
“That Lady Langton and some
“And how would this end? How long is this charade to continue?”
“Once I have identified the Spanish network, I would hope to have our own infiltration in place within a few weeks…by the end of the season, if at all possible.”
“Around three months, then,” Aurelia said, absently chewing her bottom lip.
“It may take longer, but I would hope it doesn’t.”
“And then what? What happens to this fictitious engagement of ours?”
“Once this mission is complete, I’ll be sent abroad again.” He shrugged a little. “I will make sure to give you a good reason for calling off the engagement. If we time it well, the announcement of its end can be made when most people are out of town. By the time society returns after the summer, it’ll be almost forgotten. I willhave left town, and you will have Frederick’s pension to augment your present funds.”
Aurelia turned back to the window. She didn’t want those uncomfortably piercing eyes on her face as she thought over his proposition. Even a small addition to her funds would enable her to manage a modest household of her own in town…with the right economies, of course, but she was already expert at making those. And if her friends wondered how she was managing to fund an independent lifestyle, she could always hint vaguely that Markby had been persuaded to disgorge more from the trust…either that or some distant relative could leave her with a small windfall. It could be done.
Once again she thought that if Harry had asked her, she would have agreed instantly. But Harry didn’t send prickles up her spine or cause that strange pulsing energy that seemed to have no rhyme or reason. There was danger in the colonel’s company, she knew it instinctively, but she couldn’t identify what form it took. Certainly the work he was asking her to do had little enough of danger about it. Or, at least, not the way he was presenting it. For the sake of her country, she should do this. But something held her back.
Finally she turned round to face him again. She steepled her fingers at her mouth, frowning at him. “I need time to think this over.”
A flash of disappointment crossed his eyes, then he stepped away from the fireplace. “Of course. But I wouldask that you do not think overlong. Time is of the essence, and there are advance preparations we have to make.” He picked up his hat and whip from a chair by the door and bowed. “I bid you good morning, Aurelia.”
“Good morning.” The door closed behind him and she listened for the sound of the front door signaling his departure. Then she left the breakfast parlor and went upstairs to her chamber, where she sat on the window seat and reread Frederick’s letter…over and over.
Chapter Six
A URELIA SPEND THE REMAINDER of the morning in a haze of reflection. What exactly would be involved in a romantic interest between her and the colonel? Could she play such a role convincingly enough to fool her friends, sharp-eyed Nell in particular? There would have to be an appearance of developing intimacy, of growing affection. She wasn’t even sure if she could remember now what that had felt like with Frederick. They had known each other since either could remember, and she couldn’t identify a particular moment when the affection of close friendship had deepened into love. She couldn’t for the life of her decide what she felt about Greville…or so she must get used to calling him if she was to do this thing. Her attitude to him was so mixed up with her hurt and anger at Frederick, but surely it wasn’t entirely just to blame Greville? Frederick had had a mind of his own. He was no man’s puppet. If she was to see her way clearly, she must finda way to separate the colonel from her dead husband.
When Morecombe opened the parlor door, she was so startled she dropped her embroidery needle. “What is it, Morecombe?”
“That Lady Langton and some
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