Falconer's Heart Read online

  As soon as the door closed behind them, Riki began. “There’s a tie between Marie Marley and Sir Julian.”

  Something flashed in the depths of Belmont’s piercing eyes but he veiled his reaction almost at once. “Indeed?” was all he said.

  “When she saw him, she looked instantly away as if she was afraid of acknowledging him.”

  “More like she was afraid if she gave him the least encouragement he would join her.”

  Riki blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “There are other reasons than espionage why a gentleman and a lady might be acquainted, my dear innocent.”

  “You mean they—”

  “I mean Sir Julian was quite interested in pursuing an acquaintance with her. She, I believe, was not.”

  “Oh.” Riki considered for a moment then rallied. “That doesn’t necessarily have to be true.”

  “I fear in this case it does. I was myself an observer of his determined and unsuccessful courtship.”

  Riki studied her hands, feeling as if the ground had just caved in beneath her feet. “The best way to get to the bottom of all this is to find out the truth about Marie Marley!” she declared, refusing to give up.

  Maddeningly, he shook his head. “We will leave that to the War Office, if you do not mind.”

  “But are they taking my suspicions of her seriously?”

  He regarded her through half-closed eyes. “As seriously as any other case, I assure you.”

  She glared at him. “You didn’t give this top priority, I take it. You’re so convinced David is lying, you won’t even bother to take precautions!”

  He took a step toward her, hesitated, then rested his hands on her shoulders. “Her background and connections are being investigated. What more do you want me to do? Personally follow her around, night and day? What would you expect me to accomplish?”

  “You might discover to whom she’s passing the information. Or are you afraid it might prove to be someone you know—and like?”

  It wasn’t easy ignoring the warm, gentle pressure of his hands on her bare skin. Damn low-cut dresses. They left her all too vulnerable. She pulled away and strode purposefully to the hearth, where a small fire still crackled in the grate.

  “We know where the information is coming from,” he reminded her gently. “You could warn David of your suspicions, if you think that would help.”

  “It wouldn’t. And not because he wouldn’t care. He just wouldn’t believe me. He’s in love with her.”

  “Take him back where he belongs!” he snapped.

  “I can’t!” She spun about to face Belmont, her eyes pleading with him to understand—to help. “I can’t force him to go. But if I could give him proof Marie has been betraying him, he’d want to leave.”

  “He’d leave fast enough if offered his choice between that or a firing squad.”

  “You wouldn’t—you promised!” she cried, alarmed by the grim note in his voice. “You said you wouldn’t denounce him as a traitor.”

  Belmont drew a deep, unsteady breath. “Unless I have to. Damn it, Riki, I’m not going to let him wreak havoc with our Peninsular Campaign—and with the future!”

  Her heart sank. He meant it—and what was worse, she couldn’t blame him. Nor would she have him change in the least. He was stubborn, proud, loyal to his country above all…

  And that didn’t change her problem.

  There was only one thing to do, and she knew it. She’d have to convince David of the danger he posed to everything they knew—and destroy his blind happiness and faith in his hopeless love.

  It wouldn’t be easy. If she went to him without proof, telling him her suspicions of Marie Marley, he’d think it nothing but a desperate ploy on her part to make him go home. No, she couldn’t breathe a word of her fears until she could back up her accusations with incontrovertible facts.

  How do I go about getting them, though? She could always follow Marie herself until the woman met with a French agent. But would I know if that happened? Traitors had a bad habit of not walking around with labels on their backs saying “French Spy”.

  She made her way up to her chamber, deep in unhappy plans. The best person to consult, she decided, would be Felicity. She was Marie’s friend—she must know some of the woman’s habits, certainly where she lived. The only problem would be how to get the information without alerting the girl to what she intended to do. Felicity was spirited enough to demand to help. She had better not ask her anything directly—she could not risk dragging Belmont’s young sister into a potentially dangerous situation.

  On the whole, it was easier than she anticipated. By dropping the merest hint over the breakfast table the following morning, Riki found herself carried off by Felicity within the hour to pay a morning visit to Marie Marley. Lady Prudence, fortunately, decided to remain at home, for she was herself in the expectation of receiving callers.

  Marie Marley resided in a very small townhouse on Mount Street which, Felicity told Riki, had been purchased by her husband shortly before his death. The butler who opened the door to them was every bit as austere and proper as a good British butler should be. He bowed them into a front salon and withdrew to find his mistress.

  The room was charming, Riki thought, tastefully decorated without any lavish wasting of money. Probably because Marie didn’t have any. No evidence existed here of a lucrative business of selling military information. For the first time, Riki began to think she just might have been wrong.

  Five minutes later she found herself plagued with even more doubts. Marie swept into the room, exquisite in a fluttery gauze morning gown of a delicate shade of pink that set off her cream complexion. No wonder she arouses David’s protective instincts, Riki reflected. Who could ever believe such a delicate, lovely creature could be a dangerous spy?

  “Will you not be seated?” She waved them toward a comfortable sofa nestled before the burning hearth and sank gracefully into a chair. “Ah, thank you, Addison,” she added as the butler entered with a tray of lemonade and cakes. “Will you have a glass?” she asked her guests, already pouring.

  Mrs. Marley turned her sweet smile on Riki. “Mr. Warwick is so very pleased that you have been able to come to England.”

  “I only wish I could go to France, as well.” Riki managed a sigh. “You must know it has always been an ambition of mine to see Paris. It doesn’t seem right to have come this far and not be able to manage those last few miles.”

  Marie Marley shook her head. “It is indeed a pity. England is a beautiful country, n’est ce pas, but France! I lived in Paris when I was a little girl. I don’t remember it well, but the stories my mother could tell! We had an estate near Chartres and she spoke of it constantly as the most beautiful place on earth.”

  Riki tried to watch her closely without appearing to do so. “You must long to go back.”

  Marie agreed. “It is a great sadness that it is impossible.”

  “But the war will end someday,” Riki pursued.

  Her hostess brightened. “It is my greatest hope to be able to see Chartres and Paris once more.”

  Who wouldn’t idealize her happy childhood, when her adult life had been spent in poverty and unhappiness? That provided an all-too-perfect motive—and one with which Riki almost found herself in sympathy.

  But if she did pass on information, then Mrs. Marley was using David. That thought broke across her instinctive liking for the woman. Even if Marie had no idea of the real importance of the details of strategy she gleaned, she still betrayed David’s trust and that Riki could not forgive.

  “Mr. Warwick, he is not very like you.” Marie regarded Riki with interest.

  “He looks exactly like all the other van Hamels—tall and fair. I’m the odd one out.”

  The conversation dwelled briefly on David, then Felicity neatly turned it to a ball at Wenderly House they would attend that evening, and whom they might expect to see other than just stuffy politicians. London before the season began
, Riki gathered, was dull work for a lively young damsel.

  By the time they took their leave, Riki’s mind once more seethed with formulating plans. Marie Marley must be their traitor. But how to catch her out? She wouldn’t meet with her confederates unless it was strictly necessary.

  So that meant Riki had to feed her some information, deliberately though not too obviously, and see what—if anything—she did.

  The rest of the day passed with Riki being fitted for a ball gown. Any number of minor alterations had to be made to the one Felicity eagerly thought best on her. Then, when she at last thought she could relax for a moment, a hairstylist arrived to do something with her thick auburn locks.

  And between all this, Felicity insisted she see some of the basic movements of the dances that would be performed that night. That Riki didn’t want to dance, but to take the opportunity to set a trap for a traitor, she couldn’t explain.

  When at last Felicity pronounced her ready to go downstairs that evening, Riki was amazed by the transformation in herself. No ruffles marred the purity of her appearance. The robe of celestial blue crepe opened up the front, revealing an unadorned undergown of dazzling white gauze. A delicate edging of lace peeped from the low scooped neckline. Two silver rosebuds peeked out from among her thickly rolled curls, and a borrowed fan dangled by a blue riband from her gloved wrist. Austerity suited one as small as she, Riki decided. For once, though, she didn’t feel in the least insignificant.

  Holding her breath, she descended the grand staircase. Belmont stood in the hall below, resplendent in a coat of rich claret-colored velvet over a white brocade waistcoat, elegant in a quiet way that commanded admiration. Why must he so perfectly epitomize her every secret dream? It simply wasn’t fair.

  He looked up as she reached the last landing, and her heart gave a delightful double beat at the arrested gleam that lit his eyes. He came forward slowly, holding out his hand. She placed her own in his and descended to the hall.

  Not one compliment passed his lips—there was no need. Breathless, she stood at his side, aware only of him, of the desire that pulsed between them. Only with the belated arrival of Hillary and Lady Prudence did she recover her composure and step hastily away.

  The ballroom at Wenderly House, Berkeley Square, was already filled when they arrived. Riki looked about, curious, and fought back a sudden laugh. She knew these types—they were the same pompous blowhards and old geezers she had avoided when she was a child and her parents entertained some ambassador or other high muckety-muck.

  She suppressed a chuckle. She hadn’t thought in those silly terms in ages. Her mother had almost succeeded in “civilizing” her—before she’d broken away and taken to camping and hiking instead of playing cards and dancing at the country club.

  Their names were announced and the others moved off in search of acquaintances. Riki remained near the door, scanning the crowd for her cousin.

  Belmont stood protectively over her, glaring at the several young bucks who dared to venture near. He seemed pleased when she declined all invitations to dance.

  David entered a few minutes later, escorting Marie Marley, and a tingle of nerves raced up Riki’s spine. There was nothing dangerous about what she was going to do, she reminded herself. But she must be very clever if she didn’t want to raise the woman’s suspicions. If Riki did that, she might never be able to trap Marie.

  “What’s the matter?” Belmont murmured in her ear.

  Riki jumped, then looked up and managed an innocent smile. “I just hope I don’t behave too oddly.”

  His fingers closed briefly over hers. “You’ll do very well.”

  She moved away from him. Belmont distracted her thoughts too much—and she was too willing to let him do it. Glancing back, she caught him watching her with a puzzled frown creasing his brow. She gave him a tremulous smile then turned and made her way across the crowded floor to where David stood with Mrs. Marley.

  She might as well just barge ahead. If she tried to do anything too smoothly, it would be obvious. This way she’d get the conversation onto the war, blurt something out and let David believe it was by accident.

  As she neared, Mrs. Marley spotted her, waved and said something to David. He turned and his face lit with pleasure.

  “Riki!” he called, gesturing for her to join them. She did.

  “How delightful to see you,” Mrs. Marley said, the soft accent warming her voice.

  No wonder David was ensnared. Her affection for him, Riki would swear, was real. But how could she betray the man she supposedly loved? What sort of treacherous heart beat behind that lovely façade?

  “It’s quite a crush, considering the season hasn’t begun,” David said with all the air of one who knew from vast experience.

  “The war must be keeping a great number of people in London.” Riki looked about. “I don’t see many uniforms present. Is this strictly a political gathering or are most of the officers still in the Pe­ninsula?”

  David laughed, though he sounded a touch uneasy. “We don’t talk about military matters at balls.” He obviously intended the edge in his voice to give her a hint.

  Riki decided to be extremely obtuse this evening. “No one’s listening to us. Besides, they all know better than I what’s going on. Isn’t that irritating, Mrs. Marley, to never quite understand what is happening?”

  “It is, du vrai,” she nodded in agreement. “Men,” she added. “They do not think a woman has a mind.”

  “Now that’s a pack of moonshine,” David objected, smiling.

  “But it is true!” Mrs. Marley assured him. “It may be different in America, where one hears things are not at all as they are here, but in England a lady must not discuss military strategy but only how handsome the officers appear in their regimentals.”

  Now if ever there was an opening, here it was! Or was that a deliberate lead to David to tell her something?

  “I agree.” Riki stepped in quickly, seizing her chance. “Only consider. Here are the British troops, deep in their plans for an assault across the Tagus, and how many women in England know?”

  David laughed. “Got that wrong, Riki. Lord, you never could keep one battle straight from another. They’re really planning on—” He broke off and managed a highly unconvincing cough. “Well, that’s neither here nor there, is it?”

  Riki frowned. “But David, I know Belmont said the Tagus. I heard him.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be spreading it about, should you?” For perhaps the first time in his life, he snapped at her.

  She blinked, startled by this vehemence.

  He grabbed her elbow and led her off. “For God’s sake, Riki,” he hissed, “remember the…the privileged nature of your information!” He met and held her eye in a manner meant to both abash and warn her against further incautiousness.

  Her heart swelled. If she’d needed anything to prove her cousin wasn’t a traitor—and she hadn’t—he’d just provided it. He had spoken with the strength of his convictions. She lowered her eyes, knowing she had to go on.

  “Don’t you ever get tempted to talk, just a little?” she asked. She looked up and met his gaze squarely.

  “I—” He broke off, shaking his head. “God, I try not to. I suppose it would be easy for something to slip out, but—” He left the sentence unfinished.

  “I know.” Riki felt more relieved than she could have believed.

  The music started and David hesitated. “Hadn’t you better look around for your partner?”

  Riki shook her head. “You two go ahead. I don’t know the steps, remember?” She drifted back toward a seat against the wall where she could watch, well satisfied with her meddling so far.

  She had reason to be even more satisfied barely two hours later. She had been sitting out the dance with Hillary, who was only too glad of the excuse not to stand up with any fubsy-faced daughters of the MPs, as he darkly told her, obviously having one, and not many, in mind. When the guests began to go down for sup
per, Hillary rose with a sigh.

  “Better go and see what Felicity is up to,” he said. “Belmont’s taking you down, isn’t he?”

  Riki froze, barely hearing the last of his comment. She moved away without answering, her gaze focused on her cousin.

  Nearby, David hovered solicitously over Marie, who raised one hand to her brow as if with the headache. A crumpled piece of paper fell from her gloved hand and landed on a sofa at her side. Neither seemed to notice it. David coaxed her down onto the seat, then signaled a footman and sent the man on an errand.

  Riki stared at them in mingled alarm and excitement. She hadn’t really been prepared for such immediate results.

  She hurried up to them, trying very hard not to look at the paper that barely protruded from between the cushions. “Is something the matter, Mrs. Marley? Can I help?”

  “Yes.” David didn’t give Marie a chance to answer. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a vinaigrette or anything like that on you, have you?”

  “Lady Prudence will, undoubtedly. Shall I ask?”

  “No, please.” Mrs. Marley held up her hand, brushing Riki’s arm with a feather-light touch. “Pray do not put yourself to any trouble. I shall go home and lie down. Nothing else works, I assure you.”

  “Migraines, I think,” David murmured to Riki.

  She nodded in spurious sympathy. It was either that or one heck of a good excuse to be left completely alone.

  “Have you sent for the carriage?” Marie raised pain-filled eyes to David.

  He grasped her hand and gave it a sustaining squeeze. “I have. Don’t worry, I’ll have you home as soon as possible.”

  Riki remained with them until the footman returned with the information that their carriage awaited outside. While David fussed over Mrs. Marley, locating her fan and shawl, Riki pretended to help. With a deft movement, she scooped up the crumpled slip and shoved it down the bodice of her gown. She trailed them into the hall, then watched as they descended the steps. Marie clung artistically to David’s strong, supportive figure.

  Her heart beating rapidly with excitement, Riki unfolded the note. Meeting—two thirty was all it said. For her, though, that was enough.