Page 31 of His Wife, the Spy
“You told me to learn everything about him.” It was more difficult to keep her voice level than it had been to lie. “I had to talk to him to do that.”
Spencer put his hands flat on the desk. “And in doing so, you fell victim to his charms.”
The only thing she’d fallen victim to was this scheme, and possibly one concocted by Charlotte Bainbridge. “I took advantage of your daughter’s foolishness and searched his room.”
Dearest Jasper… What sort of spy started a letter like that?Cardiff, Spain, London. Missions.What sort of spy was that open about their plans?
“And you found nothing?”
“I found ancient account books and love letters from his mistress.” Annabel blinked. “Nothing useful.”
“I see.” Spencer began pacing again, slower this time. “And now, thanks to his behavior while you were in his room, you are no longer free to move in his circles, even on the periphery.”
Annabel fought the urge to drop into the chair behind her. She’d explained away Jasper’s actions as rash and provocative, and she’d been terrified that he’d see through her bravado and realize what she was doing. She’d never considered that his behavior was purposeful, that he’d ruined her reputation simply to thwart her efforts.
“Unless you marry him.”
This time, she did drop into the chair with an unladylike bounce. “What?”
“Lady Lambourn has a reputation for propriety, especially given her family’s history.”
History? “I’ve heard nothing scandalous of the Chitester family.” Annabel felt the need to defend Amelia, who had remained a true friend despite all that occurred. “And Baron Kilverstone is—”
Spencer waved her protest aside. “She will insist Ramsbury offer for you to save the family from scandal. He will do it, gambling that you’ll refuse.”
“He would be right.” She wouldn’t marry Jasper Warren even if he really had compromised her.
A traitorous warmth spread over her chilled skin. It had happened all week whenever she thought of that night in his room, the way he’d handled her.
“And you would be wrong.” Spencer sat in her father’s chair. “He will not be able to hide everything, all the time, if you are under his roof.”
Neither would she. “And when he discovers the truth?”
“You would not be the first, or last, Society couple to live separate lives.” Spencer’s eyes were wildly bright. “And at least you would not worry for money or a home.”
As though Jasper would provide an allowance to any wife who had defrauded him. Not that she would be that wife. This scheme was insane. “No, Mr. Spencer. I won’t do it.”
“I thought as much.” He heaved a great sigh. “Your father had hopes that I could appeal to your more practical nature, but I told him you were far too wise to consider such a scheme. I told him I was sure you already planned to continue on your chosen path despite the gossip and your lack of references.”
Annabel had known her failure would doom her future chances. The scandal would follow her through London, if not through all of England.
“I told him you’d likely considered traveling to Scotland, perhaps Ireland.” He steepled his fingers together and peered at her over the peak. “Maybe even the Continent. Your French is excellent, and they are more lenient in Paris than they are in London.”
She’d been considering the same thing. Perhaps the French, or even the Italians, would pay well for a tutor to teach English, and English manners, to daughters in search of titles. She could send her earnings home to combine with funds gleaned from rents and sales. She wouldn’t have to be gone long. In a few years, Ramsbury would be married and thetonwould have found another scandal.
The only other option was to stay here and watch her family sell their lives piece by piece because, in her attempt to help, she’d only made things worse.
“Your earnings could keep the collectors at bay as long as all his debts are held by different agencies.” Spencer’s lips shaped into a cruel smile. “But if one agency, one person, bought all his markers, and then called them in…”
Annabel’s heart stopped. If all Father’s debts were called in at once, they’d be forced to sell everything quickly at a bargain. They’d never have enough, and Father would end up in prison anyway. Mother and the girls would be beside him.
She knew better than to ask if Spencer had them. He didn’t talk just to hear himself.
Quick steps in the hallway, punctuated by a cane to form a triplet, signaled Father’s approach.
“You will marry Ramsbury and get me the information I need, or your family will be carted through Mayfair on their way to prison,” Spencer whispered.
Her father bustled in. “Ramsbury has sent word that he will call within the hour.”
