How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy (33 page)

“And,” Michael added, “I'm depending on Captain Endicott to use his social connections to increase our donations. Ah, that reminds me. I have no idea if Captain Gilbride's interest was genuine, but I
will
be asking him for a donation.”
“Ask for a very large one,” Evie said. “And don't be afraid to play upon his guilt. After all, he did trick us in the most disgraceful fashion with that thick-headed-Scot routine.”
Michael laughed. “That he did,” he said, resting a friendly hand on her shoulder.
The door suddenly opened and, with perfectly dreadful timing, Will walked into the room. When his golden brows snapped together in a suspicious scowl at the sight of them, Evie was tempted to march up and give him a shake.
Not that a tiny part of her wasn't thrilled to see such a proprietorial expression on his handsome features.
“Captain Endicott, how good to see you,” Michael said in a friendly voice, stepping forward with his hand extended. “I must thank you again for your help in expediting my release. I'm exceedingly grateful, as is my father.”
“Oh, of course,” Will said, clearly thrown off by Michael's warm demeanor. “I'm glad that your father is . . . glad.” He winced a bit at his awkward reply but forged on. “And, naturally, we're all pleased with the outcome of the affair despite its rather untidy ending.”
“That would be the dead body on the kitchen floor at St. Margaret's?” Evie asked dryly.
Will shot her an exasperated look.
“Dear me, Evelyn,” Michael said, giving her a gentle frown of reproof. “The less said about that, the better.”
She gave him an apologetic smile, remembering that Michael tended to be a tad squeamish about such things. Good thing she wasn't or Bridget O'Shay might have killed Will.
“You must excuse me, sir,” Michael said to Will. “I'm off to meet Captain Gilbride to tie up the remaining loose ends.”
“Then perhaps I'll see you at St. Margaret's later today.”
“I'll look forward to it,” Michael replied. “And, Captain, please allow me to extend my best wishes on your forthcoming marriage. I sincerely hope for your great happiness together.” With another warm smile, he again extended his hand to Will.
“Thank you,” Will said, sounding rather bemused as he shook hands.
“Oh, one more thing,” Michael added, pausing at the door. “What will happen to Terence O'Shay? I feel quite bad for the man, and I'd like to help if I can.”
Will raised his eyebrows in polite enquiry. “Who?”
Michael and Evie exchanged a puzzled glance.
“Terence O'Shay, Bridget's brother,” Michael said again.
“Ah, yes,” Will said in a musing tone. “There was a man—perhaps that was his name—but he was released early this morning. I believe he had a ship to catch.”
Michael's jaw sagged open for a few moments before a smile of overwhelming relief swept across his features. “I understand, and I'm most grateful for your charity, Captain. Again, please accept my sincere congratulations and best wishes.”
When Michael slipped from the room, Will stared after him. “Do you think he really meant that? About us?”
“He did. Every word of it,” Evie said with a sigh.
Will studied her with a slight smile. “Then why the long face, love?”
“He's being so blasted noble about the whole thing that I feel like a complete worm.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “It's not a very comfortable sensation, I assure you.”
He laughed and took one of her hands. “Just think how I feel. Not only did I cut the poor man out, I accused him of treason. If anyone should feel like a worm, it's me.”
“It's very nice of you to say so, but my behavior to Michael was positively dreadful, and you know it. Besides,” she said, drawing him to the settee, “it sounds like you've been off being noble this morning, too, while I've been doing nothing but worry. What exactly
did
you do with poor Terence?”
Will sat beside her, still holding her hand. He slowly wiggled his fingers between hers, looking thoughtful. “Alec and I told the magistrate at Bow Street that we'd arrested the wrong man. I suspect Liverpool and Peel won't approve, but it's too late for them to do anything about it now. He's already on a ship bound to Jamaica.”
“Really? How did you manage that?”
Will smiled. “Alec paid for his passage and shoved a fistful of guineas into his coat pocket. I told you he was a soft touch, didn't I?” Then he sobered. “Not that I can blame him. O'Shay was all but destroyed by the news of his sister's end. Why send him to the gallows for the crime of loving his only remaining family member? The poor bastard was simply trying to protect her.”
For perhaps the tenth time that morning, Evie's throat went tight. “I'm so glad you did that, Will. There's been too much ugliness already. I only hope Terence can find a better life for himself over there.”
“He has the chance now, if he'll take it.”
They sat in silence for a few moments while Will played with her fingers.
“I have to ask you something,” Evie finally said.
He looked sideways at her, lifting his brows in silent question.
“I'd still like—” She stopped to correct herself. “I intend to keep working at St. Margaret's, Will. I've been thinking about it, and it's something I need to do. The way the Irish have been treated . . . I have to do my part to atone for that.”
Many sad things about the last few days would always be with her, and Evie knew the story of Bridget's horrific childhood would haunt her for an especially long time. She could never condone the young Irishwoman's actions, but she understood them. And she needed to do what she could to make things better.
“I know your father won't like it—or my parents to tell you the truth—but it's something I need to do,” she said with a touch of defiance. Though she loved Will with all her heart, she couldn't give up doing the things that were important to her.
He nodded. “Of course, my love. I completely understand. God knows we own this tragedy as much as the Irish do.”
“Then you truly won't mind if I spend time with Michael?” she asked, a tad skeptical.
He gave her that sideways look again, but this time his eyes had narrowed with warning. “Do I have anything to worry about?”
“Or course not.” She scowled a bit as she tried to tug her hand away. “After all that's happened, how can you even think that?”
He surprised her by picking her up and plopping her onto his lap. She let out a little squeak and grabbed his forearms.
“Because, apparently, I'm the jealous sort,” he said.
“You have no reason to be,” she said, carefully placing her hands on his wonderfully broad shoulders. “I'm madly in love with you, God help me.”
He'd been leaning in to kiss her but pulled back. “
God help me?

She stewed for a few seconds, but then decided she was done with keeping secrets from him. Done with half-truths and half-trusts. “Because I'm afraid you don't love me as much as I love you. I know that makes me sound like a ninny, but it's not a very comfortable feeling.”
He huffed out an exasperated laugh. “Clearly, I've not done a very good job of demonstrating my affections. Evie, you
are
a ninny if you can't see that I'm madly in love with you, too.”
Her fingers involuntarily dug into the fabric of his coat. “Really?” she asked, unable to keep the girlishly hopeful note from her voice.
Will kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes, really. I grant you that I've made a hash of things in the past. I was young and stupid and didn't know my own heart. But I've always loved you, Evie, and I always will.”
He captured her face between his hands, knocking her spectacles slightly askew. He didn't seem to notice. “You're my lodestone, Evie, my true north. You've always kept me clear and straight, and showed me where I needed to be. I'm sorry I forgot that, and I'm sorry I didn't trust you enough to tell you the truth about everything—about Beaumont and my intelligence work, about what had gone wrong between us, all of it.”
“I wasn't much better,” she said with a sniff, trying—again—not to cry. “I should have trusted you, too. I should have listened when you tried to warn me, instead of believing I could fix everything on my own.”
He adopted a stern expression only partly offset by the slow drift of his hand down her spine. “In fact, I'd like to talk to you about that, because I want no more running off half-cocked into dangerous situations, Evie. If you have a problem or need help, I would ask that you come to me. Not to Michael Beaumont, for instance, or your troublemaking twin.”
“Ha, that's the pot calling the kettle black. After all, you're the spy, not me. I expect you throw yourself into harm's way all the time, and I can't say I approve.”
“Don't worry,” he said dryly. “My spying days are over. I made that abundantly clear to my . . . commanding officer.”
“I expect you mean your father.”
He gave her a rather sheepish smile.
“You already spoke to him about all this?” she asked.
“First thing this morning,” he said in an absent tone of voice.
Evie had the sense he was now more focused on stroking the swell of her bottom than on their conversation. She resisted the impulse to squirm with pleasure and poked him in the shoulder instead. “And what did his Highness say?”
“Hmm? Oh, he was fine with it. He wants me to pursue a regular career in the military or diplomatic corps instead of intelligence work. I told him that I was happy to oblige.”
“And did you tell him about us?”
“I did.”
“Oh, for heaven's sake, Will,” she burst out impatiently. “Please give me some details. Was he very angry?”
He grinned and tickled her bottom. “Initially, he was a bit put out. But when I told him you'd saved my life, he seemed reconciled to our marriage.”
She groaned and dropped her head on his shoulder. “I certainly hope I don't have to go around shooting people to prove I'm worthy of you.”
“One would hope not, but I don't really give a damn about his or anyone else's permission. I'm marrying you because I want to, not because I have to.”
She lifted her head and smiled at him. “I'm very happy about that.”
“Don't think you're going to distract me, sweetheart. I'm still waiting for your promise that you'll steer clear of dangerous situations from now on. Especially when you're working at St. Margaret's.”
“I'll do my best,” she said as solemnly as she could.
The twist of his mouth signaled he wasn't satisfied with that response.
“Just think of it this way,” she added in an attempt to placate him. “If I hadn't stumbled into the middle of that conspiracy, we might never have ended up together.”
“That's a nice bit of sophistry. You also wouldn't have been kidnapped and almost murdered.”
She poked him in the chest. “Strictly speaking, you were the one who almost got murdered, not me.”
“Evie,” he started in a frustrated voice.
“Yes, I understand,” she said in a soothing voice. “And I will try to stay out of trouble. But you have to admit, at least in this case, that it worked out.”
That pulled a grudging laugh from him. “Very well. In this case, I will admit it was worth it. But no more, Evie. Do you understand?”
She stroked a cross atop her bodice. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Good God,” he sighed. “You are going to drive me insane, aren't you?”
Before she could answer, he leaned forward and kissed her. She eagerly opened her mouth under the questing surge of his tongue, snuggling deeper into his embrace. In his arms, she felt safe and loved and never more ready to face the future.
Will, however, seemed more focused on the immediate moment. He tipped her back over his arm, deepening the kiss until she shivered with pleasure and her spectacles' lenses fogged. When he slipped his hand on her leg and started to inch up her dress, things truly started to get interesting.
Unfortunately, that was exactly the moment she heard the door to the morning room quietly open.
“William Endicott, what are you doing?” screeched Mamma. “Restrain yourself this instant.”
Will was so startled he almost dropped Evie to the floor. Carefully, he shifted her onto the settee.
“Er, Lady Reese,” he said, coming to his feet. “I didn't hear you come in.”
“Obviously,” Mamma said as she swept in, followed by Eden and a footman with a tea tray. “Really, William, this is the second time I've caught you engaged in inappropriate activities with Evelyn. It is
not
becoming behavior in an officer and gentleman. I cannot believe your dear father would approve.”
Evie had to bite her tongue. Given the positively licentious conduct of all the princes—including the Duke of York—it was a miracle Will didn't burst into laughter at her mother's asinine remark.
He gave her a polite smile. “No, I expect he wouldn't, your ladyship.”
Evie had to give him credit, since she heard only the tiniest hint of laughter in his voice.
Her mother settled into an armchair and nodded at the footman to place the tea service in front of her. Eden gave Evie a droll wink but held her silence as she sat down next to her on the settee. Will eyed her twin, obviously disgruntled that she'd usurped his seat, but he capitulated with a shrug and went to sit in one of the other armchairs.

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