Page 18 of His Wicked Secret
Gillian’s face reddened. “Of course.” She smiled and slipped out of the dressing room.
Audrey took her time bathing, and she giggled as she thought back to the battle in the dining room last night. Had she really whacked a man’s leg with the candelabra and hit another man’s private regions with a fire poker?
Yes I did. And you can be assured I will write all about it in the next Lady Society column.
Writing such articles always gave her a jolt of excitement. When she wasn’t trying to tease her older brother and his roguish friends into matrimony, she was doing her best to right the wrongs of society, or at least put them on display for all to see. It was Lady Society’s influence that had given her the idea to pursue being a spy. She’d talked with Avery last year about it, and he’d seen the potential in her career in espionage, just as Evangeline had. He’d even seen fit to give her some basic lessons in disguise and how to ferret out information from people without them realizing what she was doing.
After her bath, Audrey dressed in a pale green day gown with silver slippers, then settled down on her bed with a fresh quill and paper. Archimedes, who seemed to feel at home no matter where he was, jumped up on the bed beside her and purred, rubbing his cheeks on her shoulder. Gillian bustled around the room, tidying it up, but paused when she once again noticed the cat.
“I think you’ve gone mad,” Gillian announced.
Audrey scratched out a line of her column and moved the feather quill away from the cat as he batted at it.
“Hmm?”
“I said, I think you’ve gone mad, my lady.”
Audrey glanced up, and she tilted her head. “Mad because I’m writing an exposé on the Unholy Sinners of Hell, or mad that I brought home Archimedes?”
Her maid glared at the cat. “Both, I should think.”
“Nonsense. We unmasked nearly all the men during the fight last night, and I recognized at least a dozen of them. It’s time we let thetonknow who among them are not in fact gentlemen.”
Gillian grunted softly in a tone Audrey recognized as disapproval. “And what does Mittens think of Archimedes?”
At the mention of the older cat, Audrey looked at her new feline. “Mittens? Oh, she sulked a bit at first, but I believe she’ll come around. He’s a bit like Muff, don’t you think?”
She didn’t really mean that, however. Muff and Mittens had been littermates given to her when she was ten years old by her brother. Muff had been killed last Christmas by a wretched man who had wanted to hurt her brother and had used Muff to send a message. It had broken her heart to lose her dear old pet in such a way, and not even the handsome Archimedes could replace him.
“Muff looked sweet,” Gillian said.
“Archimedes is sweet,” Audrey insisted and smiled as the cat rubbed his face on her hand, purring again.
“I highly doubt that. Why did you name him Archimedes? I should think Lucifer would be more appropriate.”
Acting shocked, Audrey covered the feline’s ears as though to prevent him from overhearing the discussion.
“Just because he was presiding over a devil’s feast doesn’t mean he’s a wicked cat. He might’ve been lured in as we were, under false pretenses.”
Gillian giggled. “Lured under false pretenses? He’s a cat. They probably snatched him from some alley in the street.”
“Nonsense.” Audrey cuddled Archimedes to her. “Cats never go anywhere they don’t choose to. During the fight, he actually attacked one of the men, Lord Augersley, before I grabbed him from under the table. Yet he didn’t fight me at all, did you?” She scratched behind Archimedes’s ears.
“Good Lord.” Gillian groaned and started for the door. Audrey sensed something deeper was going on with her maid. She’d been quieter this morning. Usually Gillian was talkative, at least to her. Audrey had her suspicions as to what made her friend so pensive. If she hadn’t wanted to be bothered, she would have tidied up and left Audrey’s chambers, yet she had lingered, as though wishing for Audrey to ask what was bothering her.
“We’re really not going to talk about it?” she asked gently, which made Gillian pause as she reached the door.
Gillian finally spoke, her voice soft. “About?”
“Last night. I came home this morning. You didn’t come back until early this morning either. The messenger who brought the note said you’d been injured and that James had taken you to his townhouse.”
Her maid flinched. Audrey studied her closely, trying to read every little expression on her face in order to puzzle out what had happened.
“Gillian,” she whispered, “I know you have atendrefor him. It’s not something to be ashamed of.”
“Isn’t it?” Gillian’s swallowed hard, and Audrey could see she was fighting back sobs. “I’m not now and never will be suitable for someone like him. I’m amaid, my lady. He is an earl. I’d be lucky to be his mistress.”
If there was one thing Audrey hated, it was when society made women like Gillian feel worthless. She was the daughter of an earl, though an illegitimate one. That made no difference to Audrey. Yes, she was the daughter to a viscount and now a sister to one, but in her eyes a person’s title said nothing of his or her character. Deeds and character mattered, not circumstances of birth. And if one was born into more privileged trappings, then in her eyes it was doubly important to be deserving of it. Of course, that was a view she could never share openly, unless it was through the anonymity of Lady Society.
