Page 104 of His Wife, the Spy
“If you will help by allowing me to compare your business’s tax receipts to the treasury records, I believe we can stop a grave injustice to a family who misses their son, a wife who wishes to properly grieve her husband, and to the people of England who put their faith in their queen.”
The room was quiet as her audience stared at each other, wondering who would begin the questions.
“You seek to oust Graydon, then?” one matron asked.
Damn.Annabel hadn’t masked the players as well as she’d thought.
“No, ma’am, not if his records are accurate and his behavior is honorable. We have been tasked with finding why tax money collected from you is not reaching the people and the projects as the Crown has promised. There may be any number of reasons that do not deal with the death in Wales. It may also be a clerk in the Exchequer rather than the man himself.”
“And you guarantee our anonymity?” a younger woman asked. Her gaze was direct, and her honey-blonde hair was pulled into a severe, simple style.
“I do,” Annabel said. “Just as I hope you will guarantee ours. Our objective, our lives, are in danger if our opponents know we are coming.”
“If I may.” Mr. Fletcher came to her side. “Your men of business will give the names of companies and receipt amounts to me. I will deliver them to Lady Ramsbury. She will not know which of you owns what company, or anything about your businesses, unless you wish to tell her.”
Once she was certain no questions remained, Annabel ceded the floor. “Thank you, ladies. Tavie.”
“Thank you for joining us, Lady Ramsbury. If you’ll wait in the drawing room, we’ll cast our votes.”
Annabel left the room, praying she’d done enough.
“There is tea waiting, your ladyship.” Martin ushered her to the drawing room and held the chair nearest the table. “Plus a few cakes we held back in case you need the strength.” His smile took years from his face. “Mrs. Foster can be a handful on her own, but get them all together…” He gave a mock shiver as he left the room.
“Would you care for something, Frederick?” Annabel asked.
Her bodyguard glanced from the window, but only for a moment. “No, my lady. Thank you. I’ll wait until we’re home.”
With every bite and each sip, Annabel remembered pieces of the story that would have been better than what she had chosen. She thought of evidence she had used and hoped she hadn’t used too much or let her tongue slip on a name.
The boardroom door opened, and Thea hurried across the dark tiled floor. Her smile was wide. “All of them are excited about being spies and helping those who live in their counties. Many of us began our endeavors to help our own villages.” The fire in her eyes hinted at a temper to match her red hair. “To suspect that someone has stolen from us, and therefore from them, is distressing.”
“Thank you.” Annabel squeezed Thea’s hand before turning toward the door. She couldn’t wait to get home and tell Jasper how well she’d done. She didn’t need to check to know Frederick was two steps behind.
“Drake and Jocelyn will be in touch soon,” Thea said, following her to the hallway mirror. “Likely this afternoon. Drake understands the urgency better than the others.”
Annabel pinned her hat before taking her reticule from Martin. “I don’t know how I can repay your support and encouragement, Thea.”
“I’m sure something will come up,” the duchess said with a smile. “Go. Give our best to Jasper.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Inky black filledthe carriage, so deep Annabel wouldn’t know Jasper was there if his lips weren’t at her ear.
“As much as this plan worries me, I must say I approve of the disguise.”
His fingers traced from her knee up the inside of her thigh, following her inseam.
His warm breath and clear intent made her shiver until she was boneless. “You’re distracting me.”
“What’s sauce for the goose…” He nipped her earlobe and soothed the sting with his tongue. “You should see your arse in a mirror.”
“I don’t believe this is why Jocelyn sent me trousers.” Annabel gathered all her determination and moved away enough to kiss him hard on the mouth. She kept her hand on his jaw. “And we don’t have the time, anyway.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful.” His fingers curved around her wrist, his black glove matching hers. “No stubborn risks, Annabel.”
The cab rocked to rest close enough to see Westminster, but at enough distance that the driver wouldn’t make the connection. “It’s a bit late for that, I think.”
The gas lamps gilded his hair and leached the color from his face. His blue eyes glittered like stars. “Promise me.”
