Authors: Victoria Alexander

My Wicked Little Lies (12 page)

BOOK: My Wicked Little Lies

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“I don’t seem to have any female friends. I’m not sure why.” She frowned. “I have a fair number of female acquaintances but no true friends.”

“Oh, I daresay, Lady Dunwell, that’s not—”

She laughed. “What a proper and polite thing to say, but I fear it is true. And as we are to be friends, you should call me Beryl.” She pinned Evelyn with a firm look. “I suspect you don’t have many friends either.”

Evelyn scoffed. “I have any number of friends.”

“Not so anyone would notice. Your husband’s sisters perhaps, but they are obligatory friends as they are also relations.” She thought for a moment. “However, if we are to be friends, you should know I have few scruples, my morals are questionable, and I am quite selfish.”

“What a ringing endorsement for friendship.”

“But I am unfailingly loyal to my friends. I am a friend you can always count on for very nearly anything.”

Evelyn cast her a skeptical look. “I thought you didn’t have any friends?”

“That’s why.” Beryl sighed. “Unfailing loyalty takes a great deal out of me.”

“Friends do not steal their friends’ cooks.” Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. “Or their husbands.”

“Yet another argument for friendship because otherwise, make no mistake, I would have your husband in a minute if the opportunity presented itself.”

“We have nothing whatsoever in common,” Evelyn warned.

“Oh, I would never have a friend who is exactly like me.” Beryl shuddered. “One of me in a friendship is quite enough.”

Evelyn choked back a laugh.

“And I can be most amusing.” She grinned. “Well?” For the briefest moment something that might have been apprehension flashed in Beryl’s eyes.

It struck Evelyn that, in spite of her confident manner and scandalous tendencies, Beryl Dunwell was a lonely woman. And hadn’t Evelyn recently decided she needed friends? A friendship with the notorious Lady Dunwell might be something of an adventure. Besides, if Lord Dunwell was involved in the theft of the file, which seemed less and less likely to Evelyn, it wouldn’t hurt to be friends with his wife. She’d had no word from Maxwell since she’d picked up
The Three Musketeers
yesterday and the message it contained had said little more than “wait.” It was too soon to hope this assignment was at an end yet hope she did.

Even better, Adrian didn’t like Lord Dunwell and she doubted that he would approve of her friendship with his wife. A woman he had obviously once had more than a passing acquaintance with. It would make him most uncomfortable. Good. At the moment, Adrian’s disapproval and discomfort were excellent recommendations.

“Very well then, Beryl,” Evelyn said with a nod. “You have a new friend.”

“Excellent.” Beryl beamed. “As your friend, and as someone with far more experience with husbands, might I offer you a word of advice?”

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“First of all, husbands who are irate and suspicious are frequently, not always mind you, but frequently engaged in infidelity themselves.”

“Adrian would never—”

“I’m not saying he has,” Beryl said quickly. “I’m just saying it is something to keep in the back of one’s mind. Second, this is an enormous opportunity for any wife. Not only did your husband distrust you but he allowed that distrust to be known to others. Why, if I were not your friend, and did not figure prominently, I should be delighted to spread this story far and wide.”

“It’s good to have friends,” Evelyn murmured.

“Indeed it is.” Beryl nodded. “All I am saying is that the magnitude of your husband’s actions are such that you should not forgive him too easily. Flowers are not enough in way of apology, and even diamonds had best be of the finest quality.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You should also spend a great deal of money in a most frivolous manner.”

“I had been thinking of refurbishing my town house.” She glanced at Beryl. “My secretary lives there currently.”

“Excellent. Refurbishing is wonderfully expensive. As are trips to the continent. New carriages.” Beryl paused. “Portraits.”

Evelyn laughed.

Beryl pinned her with a firm look. “Make him work for your forgiveness.”

“My goodness, Beryl.” Evelyn cast her new friend a slow, determined smile. “It appears we have a lot in common after all.”

Chapter 10

“
W
hy wasn’t I informed of this?”

“You are no longer a member of this department.” Max’s manner was cool, professional. He sat behind the desk that was once Adrian’s, looking for all the world like a proper government official. “What occurs here is no longer your concern.”

“My wife is my concern.”

“And because of your decision to expunge any mention of her true identity from the official records, she is the only one I can trust at the moment.”

Adrian scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It scarcely matters what you believe.” Max leaned forward over the desk. “You retired from service, remember?”

“I had no choice.”

“One always has a choice,” Max said in a lofty manner.

“Not when one has just inherited a title, family responsibilities, and a seat in Parliament.” Adrian studied his old friend for a long moment. “But you know that.”

Max shrugged.

Adrian narrowed his eyes. “Just as you knew that eventually I would realize my wife was working for the department again.”

“You have always been observant.”

At once the pieces clicked into place. “And that realization would bring me here.”

“As well as most predictable. At least to someone who knows you well.”

Adrian settled back in his chair and studied the other man. “It has been a long time.”

“You never call on me, you never write ...” Max heaved a heartfelt sigh. “You have left me forlorn and abandoned.”

Adrian resisted the urge to grin. He would not be disarmed this easily.

He’d been furious when he had realized the truth late yesterday afternoon. Not at Evie but at Max. No reason was good enough to drive her back to this. He couldn’t blame her for not telling him herself. If their roles were reversed, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—tell her. Besides, as far as she knew, he had no idea of her work before their marriage.

His anger had meshed with concern followed closely by curiosity. What was so important as to necessitate Max needing Evie’s help? His immediate impulse had been to confront Max at once but apparently, now that he knew what his wife was about and it had nothing to do with another man, reason had returned and prevailed and kept him from the Mayfair office until this afternoon.

“It does seem fair, doesn’t it? In a universal sense, that is,” Adrian said mildly. “Turnabout and all that.”

Max’s brow furrowed. “I am tired of people thinking my past behavior, in regards to the fairer sex, means I deserve to be ill treated. I have never deliberately mistreated a woman. Certainly, I have been inconsiderate on occasion, thoughtless perhaps, and even somewhat insensitive to their feelings. And yes, there have been moments when I have fled without a backward glance, but all in all, while I may be a bit of a scoundrel, I have never been a cad.” He huffed. “And that has nothing to do with the matter at hand.”

“No. Still ...” Adrian blew a long breath. “You deserved better from me.” Regret and a touch of guilt washed through him. He and Max had been friends since their first days with the department and partners for a time as well. Each man had saved the other on more than one occasion. It was Adrian who recommended Max take his place as head of the department. And Max who had understood why Adrian had wanted to eliminate all evidence of Evie’s involvement and had carried out his orders, albeit reluctantly. “My apologies. We have been friends for a long time. It simply seemed wise to put everything—and everyone—involved with the department behind me. That may well have been a mistake on my part.”

“I could have used your advice, now and again, in the last two years,” Max said. “The benefit of your wisdom, as it were. It would have been helpful, on occasion, to talk with you. Something other than the brief, cordial greeting you manage when we run into one another publicly. Although given that you are usually with your wife, I do understand.”

“You could have contacted me.”

Max shook his head. “You made it clear when you left that you wanted no further involvement. Yet I didn’t realize when you abandoned the department, you abandoned me as well.”

Adrian winced. “I would say that is rather harsh, but I suppose it isn’t, is it?”

“No, it’s not. I have never thought of myself as overly sentimental, Adrian, but I was foolish enough to believe that our friendship transcended our work. Apparently I was wrong.”

Adrian stared. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Guilt, no doubt, has got your tongue.”

“Not at all,” he said quickly. “Regret, perhaps, that I wasn’t a better friend. Unfortunately, putting all this behind me included you. And in that, I was wrong.”

Max raised a brow. “You never admit when you’re wrong.”

“It’s not necessary as I am rarely wrong.” He ignored how very wrong he had been about his wife.

Max studied him silently. In spite of his morose expression, there was a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not wounded by my actions at all, are you?”

Max grinned. “I cry myself to sleep each and every night.”

“I had forgotten how clever you are.”

“I do try to disguise it. I am more than merely the face of the department, you know.”

“I still consider you my closest friend.”

“Hmph.” Max scoffed. “In that you have my sympathy.”

“I should. It wasn’t easy, you know. Leaving this behind.” Adrian got to his feet and, without thinking, paced the small office. Habit, of course. He couldn’t count the number of times he had paced this floor. For whatever reason, he had always thought better on his feet in this room than behind the desk. He resisted the urge to glance at the floor to see if indeed there was a faint trough worn in the floorboards from the years he had spent here and instead moved to the window. The view was unchanged, the square as serene as ever. It had always struck him, gazing down on the scene, how appearances were so often deceiving. But then people tended not to see what they did not expect. It was a tenet of humanity he had often bet his very life on. He turned and met his friend’s gaze firmly. “I know it’s hard to believe but the life of the Earl of Waterston is not generally as exciting as the life of Adrian Hadley-Attwater, agent of the crown.”

“Better known as
Sir
.”

“He did have a grand time of it.” Adrian grinned. “The excitement of pursuit, the constant threat of exposure, the danger of discovery. Disguises and deceptions and danger—”

“And delightful women. Don’t forget the women.”

“I could never forget the women.” He chuckled, then caught himself. “But I have, completely. That, too, is behind me. There is only one woman in my life, only one woman I want.” He shook his head. “I have no regrets about that.”

“While the faces have changed here, little else has,” Max said in an offhand manner. “We still have a grand time, in the service of her majesty, of course.”

“Of course,” Adrian murmured. Still, even if it was sanctioned by the government, there was something about operating on the edge of the rules, be they those of law or behavior, that was exciting and intoxicating. And hard to give up.

Max eyed his old friend curiously. “Tell me, Adrian, do you miss it?”

“Not at all,” Adrian lied.

“Because your life of responsibility is so fulfilling?”

“Yes,” he said staunchly. “It is fulfilling and extremely busy and I am most content and ...”

Max raised a brow.

“And yes,” he snapped. “I admit it. I do miss this. I didn’t in the beginning but recently ...”

“Recently?”

“Recently I have found myself impatient, on edge, restless. It led me to ...” This was awkward to admit, even to an old friend. He drew a deep breath. “To suspect my wife of being embroiled in an affair.”

“I see.”

“I wasn’t entirely wrong. She was involved with something she wished to keep from me.” He cast his friend a hard look. “This.”

“She wasn’t at all pleased.” Max studied him closely. “She still doesn’t know, does she?”

“Good God, no.” He shook his head.

“Then I assume Miss DeRochette—”

“Doesn’t know either, at least as far as I know. I don’t know how she could. And if she did, she would certainly tell my wife.” Adrian shuddered and returned to his chair. “And then there would be hell to pay.”

“From them both, I suspect,” Max said mildly.

“I much prefer not even to think about it, thank you.” No, the very idea that Evie might learn the man who had given her assignments and directed her activities with his often seductive words was the same man who had told her in a most romantic manner that their lives didn’t begin until the moment they had met struck fear into his heart in a way no criminal or spy or villain ever had. “And it is my intention to avoid that until the day I breathe my last. Or beyond. Now ...” His tone hardened. “Where are we?”

“We?” Max chuckled. “Welcome back.”

“Only for the moment,” Adrian warned.

“Agreed.” Max nodded. “As I said, a file that includes your true identity as well as the names of the previous two heads of this department was stolen.”

“From you.” Adrian bit back a grin.

“Yes, from me.” Max huffed and continued. “It may or may not be significant, but a few months ago, one of your predecessors, whose name is in the file, died. As he was elderly, I thought little of it although he was said to have been in excellent health.”

Adrian nodded. “You’re speaking of Sir George.”

“I am.” He paused. “I assume Evelyn does not know of her guardian’s connection with the department.”

“That’s my assumption, although I can’t very well ask her.”

“You and your wife keep a lot of secrets from each other.”

“Not at all,” Adrian said. “Not since our marriage anyway. We agreed from the start that our lives before we met didn’t matter.”

“How very romantic of you. And extremely clever as well.”

“I thought so.”

“You know, one of the reasons I have not married is because I thought marriage called for complete and total honesty.”

“We have complete and total honesty.”

Max raised a skeptical brow.

“About the present,” Adrian said firmly. “The past is another matter.”

“I didn’t know you could categorize honesty that way. How very interesting,” Max said under his breath. “As I was saying, Sir George’s death might well be nothing but coincidence given his advanced years, although I find his death, followed by the theft of the file, at the very least curious despite the length of time between the two incidents.” He paused. “I did have my secretary make some inquires but he found nothing untoward in Sir George’s demise. Your immediate predecessor, Lord Lansbury, thinks it is nothing more than chance and of no significance.” Max’s gaze met his. “I am always suspicious of coincidence.”

Adrian nodded.

“Even though Sir George’s death and the theft of the file are separated by some three months, I still feel it is something to keep in mind.” He studied Adrian for a moment as if choosing his words. “My investigation before I involved your wife led me to believe Lord Dunwell had arranged the theft. As he is a most unimaginative man, it was reasonable to assume, if the file was in his possession, it would be in his library.”

“Which is why Evelyn insisted we go to the reception,” Adrian said slowly. “And why I found her in the library.”

“You caught her?”

“Not exactly.” He blew a resigned breath. “But her presence and the arrival of Lord Radington helped convince me as to my wife’s infidelities.”

“Radington?” Max choked back a laugh. “She has far better taste.”

“This is not amusing.”

“Not to you, perhaps.” Max sobered. “You’re not going to like this part.”

“Because I’m so fond of the rest?” Adrian narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”

“My information about Dunwell was wrong.” He shrugged. “But I learned that too late to stop Evelyn.”

“I see.” He wasn’t at all happy to learn that Evie had risked discovery for nothing. Still, it was the nature of the game. “Then you are back where you started.”

“Not entirely.” Max opened a drawer, pulled out a file, and tossed it onto the desk. “This is the file in question.”

Adrian shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.” He shrugged. “This was delivered via Fenwick’s this morning.”

Adrian shook his head. “This makes no sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Max stared at the file. “Although if all someone wanted was the information, they have it now.”

“And might well think, with the file recovered, our investigation will be at an end.”

Max grinned. “I like the way you say
our
.”

BOOK: My Wicked Little Lies

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