Regency Spymasters 01 - Spy Fall Page 20

  One afternoon, when Rosie had declined to join them, Mari tugged on her riding jacket as she and Cosmo led their mounts from the stable. Her seat improved daily, but she still hadn’t become accustomed to the cumbersome riding habit. “When will I learn to ride astride?”

  “All in good time,” he responded absently. The strain of the past few days showed in the deepening web of lines around his ebony eyes. “Have patience. You must become adept at riding sidesaddle first.”

  “Unfortunately, patience is not one of my virtues.” Mari ran her hand down Icarus’s forehead. The animal nudged into her caress, which made her smile.

  Cosmo crooked a brow. “I see the two of you are finally becoming friends.”

  “Yes.” She ran a gloved hand along the animal’s crest. “Icarus is quite a specimen, such an artful combination of muscle and bone. He is perfectly made.”

  He linked his hands to give her a boost into the sidesaddle. “Any word yet?”

  “You must be patient,” she said as he lifted her up.

  “I cannot seem to manage it.” He mounted his own animal with surprising fluidity for a man of his considerable size, the musculature of his compact thighs gliding under snug fawn breeches. She suppressed a sigh of longing. Icarus wasn’t the only creature who was perfectly made. “Knowing Ellie’s boy might be alive, and with strangers, keeps me in a constant state of agitation. My runner has come up with nothing. Neither has the factor I retained in France.”

  “I comprehend it must be difficult.” She took a moment to focus on perfecting her seat, hooking her right thigh over the top horn while settling her left against the bottom one. She arranged her heavy skirt to cover her legs.

  “Excellent,” he said, taking in her posture. “Your back is straight, your hips and shoulders are even.”

  She shifted more weight to her right hip to compensate for the weight of both legs on the horse’s left side. “Once I am riding astride, balancing my weight should be easier. I begin to think men invented the sidesaddle so women would not best them in the seat.”

  That provoked a smile out of him, his supple lips curving with amusement. “Perhaps. Although, sidesaddle or not, I wouldn’t ever bet against you, my love.”

  Her heart glowed warm at the endearment as they set off at an easy pace, walking the animals to warm them up. “I know you are anxious about your sister’s child, but gathering information takes time.”

  “What intelligence are we gathering, exactly?” Letting the ribbons relax against his hands, he counted off the litany of dead-ends on his fingers. “We haven’t had any luck with Ellie’s friends and acquaintances in Paris. Laurent’s family has been no help.” He made a sound of disgust. “It’s been six years. The trail isn’t just cold. It’s frozen solid. We’re quite out of options.”

  “Au contraire.” She set Icarus into a trot. “We have yet to speak with the cousin.”

  He kept pace. “The cousin?”

  She counted the trotting rhythm in her head. One, two, up. One, two, up. “Eudora Rumbold’s cousin.”

  “You mean to say there really is a cousin? I thought you invented her.”

  “There is a cousin and we are attempting to locate her.”

  His face brightened. “What do you know about her?”

  “She was last in London. That is all we know so far, but we shall locate her.” Feeling confident, she set Icarus into a gallop. Cosmo followed and they rode at a swift pace across the open fields.

  The saddle seemed to shift slightly beneath her. She transferred more weight to her right hip to be more balanced. It didn’t help. The saddle moved again, and this time she knew she hadn’t imagined it. The saddle lurched, tilting heavily to Icarus’s left side, threatening to unseat her. Leaning heavily to the right, trying to stay in the saddle, she pulled on the reins to slow the horse’s stride.

  Cosmo recognized her dilemma just moments after she did. “Don’t pull too hard on the ribbons,” he called out. “Remember, tug gently but firmly from side to side so he doesn’t rear and unseat you.”

  “He’s going to throw me anyway.” Her heart thumped hard at the thought of falling from a galloping horse. Trying to follow his instructions, she tugged on the strings with a firm hand.

  His mount pulled abreast of hers. “Kick your foot free of the stirrup,” he commanded in a sharp voice. “Do it now!”

  “I’m trying!” she cried in response to the urgency in his voice. If she lost her seat while her foot was still in the stirrup, she risked being dragged by a runaway horse, which would be far more dangerous than simply falling.

  She struggled to retain her wits, pulling on the reins with one hand, clutching Icarus’s mane with the other, overcompensating by shifting her weight in the opposite direction of the slipping saddle while trying to kick her foot out of the stirrup. The trees and grass swept past her in a long, green blur.

  Cosmo moved closer. Reaching over, he tried to grab hold of Icarus’ bridle, to slow him. It was no use. She was falling. Everything seemed to slow as the saddle slid off Icarus, picking up momentum as it did so. Relief snapped through her when her foot broke free of the stirrup.

  She saw no alternative but to let herself fall. Gulping air into her lungs, she released the strings and Icarus’s mane, allowing the slipping saddle to send her tumbling to the speeding ground beneath her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Mari!” Leaping from his mount, Cosmo raced toward her crumpled body. Panic speared through him. She lay on the ground in that confounded blue riding gown, and all he could see was a motionless heap of cloth. The words Not again, not again chanted a relentless beat in his head. “Dear God, say you are all right.”

  Relief suffused his heart when the bundle of cloth moved. By the time he reached her, Mari was already muttering a string of curses while attempting to stand. She’d lost her hat and her dark mass of hair had tumbled down about her shoulders. Dust bathed her riding habit and a splash of dirt stained her cheek.

  She’d never looked more beautiful.

  He cupped her elbow to steady her. “Are you injured? What hurts?”

  “My bottom is sore,” she said grimly, testing her legs and arms. “I’m sure to have a few bruises but nothing appears to be broken.”

  “Thank God.” Releasing a breath, he pulled her into his arms, gently, so that he would not aggravate any possible hurts.

  “I assure you I am fine,” she said against his chest.

  “Yes, but I am not. Give me a moment to recover.” She leaned into his embrace with a sigh, her lush warmth nestled into his protective hold. He inhaled with relief, savoring her presence and the familiar scent of lemon and cloves.

  After a while, he reluctantly let her pull away to brush the dust from her sleeves and bodice. “Merde. I told you riding sidesaddle is dangerous.”

  None of it seemed right. The way she’d fallen, the slipping saddle. “I don’t think that is to blame.”

  “Nonsense.” Shaking out her heavy cotton skirts, she coughed at the cloud of dust the movement stirred up. “I would not have had an accident such as this if I had ridden astride.”

  “If it was an accident.” A rising tide of anger supplanted his relief that she’d escaped serious harm. He strode over to Icarus, who’d trotted back toward them and stood grazing nearby, the saddle reins hanging about his head. Cosmo knelt to examine the saddle, which had slid all the way under the animal’s belly.

  Mari followed him. “Qu’est-ce que tu fais?”

  “What am I doing?” He spoke sharply, but his ire wasn’t directed at her. “Looking for evidence of sabotage.”

  Moving gingerly, she knelt beside him. “It has been tampered with?”

  He ran his hands over the band that held the saddle in place. “No.” Rising to his feet, he helped her do the same. “But the girth is far too loose.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Resting a hand on the horse’s flank, he said, “That it could have been an accident. Or someone
purposely loosened the fastening to do you injury.”

  “I do not like the odds.” She regarded him with solemn eyes. “It appears this was not a coincidence.”

  “I agree,” he said. “First the incident with the balloon and now this. Either you are entirely without luck or someone wants to do away with you.”

  “Someone who might suspect my true purpose for being here.”

  “And has access to the stables.” Tugging Icarus’s saddle back into position, he tightened the girth. “I supposed it is possible the French have eyes and ears among the staff.”

  “C’est possible.”

  He pulled the band until it was snug. “And the day of Aldridge’s party, we had brought on many helpers from the village.”

  Mari held Icarus’s head with one hand while she stroked his snout with the other. “It could also be someone who is well known to us.”

  The hesitation in her voice caught his attention. “What aren’t you saying?”

  He watched her steady herself before she spoke. “What if your father knows my real purpose for being here?”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “You think Aldridge is trying to kill you?”

  She spoke carefully. “He has the list and is aware my name is on it, n’est-ce pas?”

  “From that you deduce he wants you dead.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’ve reached no conclusions. However, I cannot discount the possibility that Aldridge might have learned of my association with the British Home Office.”

  “I know he didn’t do it,” Cosmo said. “In time, you will know it as well.” Finished with the saddle, he slapped the horse’s flank. “As soon as we return, I’ll question the grooms to see who saddled Icarus for you. Are you well enough to ride?”

  She winced, running a tentative hand over her rump. “I do not think my bottom can take it. I am a bit sore.”

  “Then we can walk.”

  She took his arm. “This adds another dimension to the investigation.”

  “What do we do next?”

  “We wait. Marcel is going to London to search for the cousin.”

  He sighed. “Hopefully we will have answers soon.”

  The answers came sooner than either of them expected. A few days later, Mari was working in the barn when Marcel appeared just as Cosmo stopped by to inquire about him.

  “I have something for you,” her brother said with a satisfied air.

  Mari’s heart leapt. Marcel had gone to London to follow up on leads the runner had developed on Martha Rumbold, Eudora’s cousin. “Did you find her?”

  “Is it a sweetmeat?” Maxim asked at the same time, looking up from his work.

  “Not for you, idiot,” Marcel said to his brother, his gaze sliding to Cosmo and Mari with a smug expression on his face.

  Cosmo stepped closer to him. “You found something.”

  Marcel smirked. “Not something. Someone.”

  Her pulse accelerating, Mari rose from the stool where she was working on a new balloon to replace the one that had burned up. “You found the cousin.”

  “Is she in London?” Cosmo asked, restless urgency radiating from him.

  Marcel’s expression turned grave. “She was in London.”

  Cosmo’s face darkened. “They got to the cousin as well?” He cursed extravagantly. “I suppose she has disappeared.”

  “Not disappeared.” Marcel cracked a smile. “I was afraid she would vanish, so I wrapped the package up and brought her to you.”

  “She’s here?” Mari regarded him intently. “Now?”

  “At the inn. Waiting to make your acquaintance.”

  “Excellent work,” she said. “How did you get her to accompany you?”

  He lifted a dark brow. “She is not an unattractive woman.”

  She looked heavenward. “Mon Dieu. Save me from scoundrels.”

  “A little coin helped her decide this would be an ideal time for a holiday. Besides, I didn’t think your arse would survive a ride into London.”

  “That much is true,” she said, unconsciously putting one hand back to rub her bum. “I am still a bit tender.”

  Cosmo flashed a look of concern in her direction. His anxiety over her safety had mounted since her fall from Icarus, especially since interviews with the stable grooms turned up no clues as to who had tried to harm her. Toby had saddled both mounts before being summoned away to perform a task at the main house. That meant the saddled horses had been unattended long enough for someone to tamper with them before Mari and Cosmo had appeared for their ride. He blew out a breath. At least in Martha Rumbold, Eudora’s cousin, they had a significant lead.

  Since riding was still difficult for her, they took a curricle to the village. Cosmo battled nerves and impatience as he strode toward the private sitting room the tavern owner directed them to. When they reached the door, Mari placed a staying hand on his arm. “Remember not to push her. When people feel put upon, they are not as helpful.”

  “I am well aware what is at stake,” he retorted before he could catch himself. Forcing a calming breath, he nodded. “Forgive me.”

  She squeezed his arm. “There is nothing to forgive. However, encouraging people to reveal what they know is critical to my work. If Martha Rumbold has the answers we seek, I shall extract them from her.” With a quick reassuring smile, she tapped on the door, before pushing it open. “Miss Rumbold?”

  As they stepped into the parlor, a plump woman with generous hips and a shrewd expression on her face turned away from the window. “That’s me. Why do you want?”

  “I am Mari Lamarre.” Mari lost her French inflection, replacing it with the accent of an English gentlewoman. “And this is Lord Cosmo Dunsmore.”

  The woman curtseyed, her canny brown eyes darting between the two of them. “Mr. Lamarre said you have some questions.”

  “We do,” Mari said pleasantly. “Shall we sit? I can order some tea.”

  “Tea?” Cosmo burst out in obvious exasperation.

  “’Twould be right nice.” Their guest ran a measuring gaze over Cosmo. Marcel had said she was a washerwoman in London. No doubt having tea in a private parlor was quite a luxury for her. But from the interested looks the woman was giving Cosmo, she wouldn’t be adverse to a bit of masculine refreshment, too.

  “Very well.” Ignoring an obvious rustle of impatience from Cosmo, Mari went to the hallway to call for tea. He followed.

  “Tea?” he whispered furiously. “We’re closer than ever to knowing the truth about Ellie’s child and you are worrying over refreshments?”

  “We want her comfortable and relaxed. Tea might make her more willing to talk to us.”

  He closed his eyes and swallowed, as if trying to calm himself. “Very well.”

  Returning to the parlor, they seated themselves opposite the washerwoman.

  Cosmo sat at the edge of his chair, his spine straight. “I trust your trip to Dorset was enjoyable.”

  Martha blushed and fluttered her eyelashes. “Oh yes, sir. Quite comfortable it was.”

  “We have some questions about your cousin Eudora,” Mari said.

  The washerwoman regarded Mari in a much less friendly manner. “Can’t see how it’s your business if Eudora don’t want to be found.”

  “It is not Eudora we are interested in, but rather one of her former employers,” Mari said. “The late Elinor Laurent of Paris, known as Lady Elinor Dunsmore of Dorset before her marriage.”

  “Dunsmore.” Martha’s sly gaze slid back to Cosmo. “Kin to you?”

  He nodded. “My sister.”

  Her insolent countenance shifted; she grew more somber. “Sad thing what happened to her, milord. Eudora said she was a fine lady.”

  “She was indeed,” he said. “The finest.”

  “How does her babe fare?”

  He leaned forward. “What do you know about the boy?”

  “Boy? What boy?” The woman frowned. “I don’t know anything about a boy.”

  Th
ey were interrupted by a tap at the door, followed by a maid bringing in the tea. They waited in tense silence until she put the tray down and withdrew.

  “So you don’t know anything about the child,” Cosmo said.

  Martha helped herself to bread and cheese and took a hearty bite. “I know about the child,” she said, her mouth full. “I just don’t know a thing about a boy child.”

  “Either you have knowledge of Lady Elinor’s son or you don’t,” Cosmo said tersely. “Which is it?”

  Martha swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re about. There weren’t no boy. Lady Elinor birthed a girl child.”

  Cosmo paled. “You’re mistaken.”

  “Seems you should know.” Martha paused to drink from her tea cup. “Ain’t you raising the girl?”

  Cosmo exchanged a look with Mari. “Why would you think that?”

  “Eudora said the babe went to the family after her mistress died.”

  “Perhaps Mr. Laurent’s French relatives took the child,” Mari said.

  “No,” Martha said in a flat voice. “Eudora was relieved the babe wouldn’t end up with those frogs.”

  At long last, the truth of what happened to Elinor Dunsmore’s child fell into place in Mari’s mind. “Why did your cousin think the child had gone to live with its mother’s people?”

  Martha bit into a gingerbread cake. “The Englishman who took the girl promised to return her to Lady Elinor’s family.”

  Cosmo inhaled sharply. “Did she say what this gentleman looked like?”

  “No.” Martha brushed a crumb from her chin. “Oh, wait, yes. Said he was a right fine-looking nob, with the bluest eyes you ever saw.”

  “It’s not possible.” The blood rushed from his face, leaving his skin almost gray. He turned to Mari, disbelief etched in every line of his visage. “Darling reveres Aldridge. He wouldn’t deprive the old man of his only grandchild.”

  “Darling?” Martha surveyed the selection of food on the tea tray before helping herself to another gingerbread cake. “That the name of the English fellow who took Susanna?”