Chapter 5

5

D orian Harlowe stood near the terrace railing, spine straight, hands clasped loosely behind his back. The early morning sunshine spilled from a cloudless sky. It sharpened the colors, brightening the freshly cut grass that stretched toward the forest.

A gentle breeze danced around him, rustling the leaves of the trees. Birdsong infused the air with soothing effect until a disturbance sent the birds soaring, their squawks of alarm announcing the four young women's arrival.

Samantha and Hazel burst from between the trees, racing along the well-trodden path with Tara and Holly close behind. Their lean bodies moved with an elegant ease that could only be reached through vigorous exercise, determination, and discipline.

Their attire, more suited to men than to women, aided their movements. Their shirts and breeches were snuggly fitted, their shoes constructed from a sanded calf-skin that made the leather especially supple.

Shoulder to shoulder, they sprinted toward the ninth obstacle they would encounter as part of the course – a low stone bridge traversing what looked like a natural depression in the landscape. For them it would serve as a tunnel.

Dorian watched the women fling themselves onto their bellies and into a crawl, their arms dragging their bodies forward until they vanished from view. A moment passed before they appeared on the opposite side of the bridge, Samantha now in the lead.

She leapt to her feet, Hazel hard on her heels, and ran for the ramp leading onto a piece of peripheral fencing. Without needing to slow her movements, she made her way along the narrow beam, gaining additional distance to Hazel, if only by a slight margin.

A bothersome fly began buzzing around Dorian's face. He swatted it away, his attention on his protégés briefly interrupted. It nearly caused him to miss Samantha's somersault through the air as she leapt from the fence.

He nodded his approval and checked his pocket watch. She and Hazel were both on track to beating their own personal records while Tara and Holly, the youngest of the four, did their best to keep up.

With the Crown's support, he'd managed to train the women to become the deadliest spies in the country. Only a few select people knew of The Nightingale Project, an initiative intended to bring England's enemies to their knees, if need be.

Unfortunately, war with the French had ended since the project's inception. Napoleon had been captured and imprisoned. There wasn't the same need for military intelligence as there had been before. His project lacked a reason for implementation, and since he needed to prove the necessity for its continued existence, one of his students had taken on an assignment much too simple for her level of skill.

A satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he watched Samantha circle around and approach the course's greatest challenge - a series of staggered roman pillars gradually rising from the ground in ever increasing height.

To the untrained eye, they would appear like nothing more than a curious folly, arcing from the forest side of the property and toward the roofline of Clearview House. For the women he trained, the pillars tested the contestants' balance, agility, and courage.

The pillars were not for the faint of heart, but they were necessary. If his students were ever chased across the rooftops of a city, this test would make sure they were able to do so as though it were second nature.

Samantha kept an even pace, the toes of her right foot landing on the first pillar. At only ten inches in height, it was more of a tall step. She leapt up onto the next one with her left foot, continuing her upward climb with Hazel second and the other two close behind.

It didn't take long for the women to reach a height equal to Clearview's second floor landing. Still they continued, their nimble pace crafting the illusion that this was a simple feat, easily accomplished by anyone daring enough to attempt it.

Dorian knew this was not the case. One wrong move would lead to disaster, which was why he never let them try it until he was confident they would excel.

"Don't you worry they'll fall?" The question came from Chief Constable Kendrick, who'd just been shown onto the terrace by Branton, Dorian's butler.

Dorian dismissed the servant, then glanced at Kendrick who'd come to stand beside him. "They won't."

He returned his attention to the four women. Samantha had already reached the top-most pillar, so far above the spot where he stood, she was level with the roof-line. Hazel was right behind her with Tara and Holly closing the distance. If Samantha didn't jump soon and the others failed to slow down, they'd collide and lose their balance.

Beside him, he sensed Kendrick holding his breath.

It was expelled in a gush of amazement when Samantha leapt for the roof and vanished from sight. The others followed, disappearing one after the other.

"Look there," Dorian murmured, directing Kendrick's gaze to the right.

Samantha soon reappeared. Gripping a rope attached to one of the many iron rings that had been embedded as structural ties at the top of the walls, she swung herself over the side of the building and started rappelling downward.

With bent knees, she landed in a stance that allowed her to spring back into a run and race to the end of the course. Hazel met her there two seconds later and clasped her raised hand in celebration of their achievement. Tara and Holly soon joined them.

United, yet independently capable.

The camaraderie and support they consistently showed one another pleased Dorian greatly. They would do well if they were ever called into action. He took a slow breath and expelled it, aware that there should be five instead of just four. Melody's talents were wasted in her current position as lady's companion to the dowager Marchioness of Heathbrooke.

He often wished he'd been able to send someone else in her place.

The problem was trust. In this regard there were only five people upon whom Dorian knew he could count without fail. Samantha, Hazel, Tara, Holly, and Melody. He'd saved them from the orphanage where they'd been placed and had raised them with his wife's assistance until her death a few years ago.

His only regret was the shortsightedness with which he'd regarded the project. In retrospect he should have fostered ten more children at least.

Clapping, Dorian shouted his support, then sent the footman who'd been waiting with a tray full of fresh lemonade, glasses, and biscuits to go serve the women their treat.

Turning to Kendrick, he arched a brow. "I wasn't expecting you today."

"I know." Kendrick looked mildly uncomfortable, yet determined. "Please forgive the intrusion, but I've come to acquire an asset."

Dorian stilled so briefly he doubted the constable noticed his apprehension. Forcing a welcoming smile, he gestured toward the cushioned bamboo chairs that surrounded a matching table. "Have a seat."

Kendrick did as he suggested and Dorian took the chair opposite him. Coffee was served. Kendrick had the good sense to wait for the attending maid to be well out of earshot before offering further explanation.

"The order has come from the chief magistrate himself," Kendrick said. "The mission will be—"

"Less laughable than the previous one?" Dorian made no attempt at hiding his bitterness. Installing Melody as Lady Heathbrooke's companion had been careless.

"Miss Roberts is in an excellent position with regard to acquiring intelligence," Kendrick countered. "She sees and hears a great deal from her vantage point in Grosvenor Square."

"Gossip." Dorian spoke the word with distaste. "Nothing substantial."

"Let's not forget that she's also able to spread it," Kendrick pointed out.

This was true. Melody had managed to change two parliamentary votes by placing suggestive comments in Lady Heathbrooke's ear. Hours later, the information had been reported as fact, the men it referenced losing all credibility with regard to the bills they'd attempted to pass.

Still…

"My downstairs maid is just as capable of achieving such goals. It does not require the skill of a highly trained agent."

Averting his gaze, Kendrick glanced out across the garden.

"I realize you're disappointed," he murmured. His gaze returned to Dorian, sharper this time. "I'd be unhappy too if I'd dedicated over a decade of my life to a cause that's unlikely to live up to what I envisioned. It could be worse though. You and The Nightingale Project could be forgotten completely. Your protégées could be forced to make the same choices as other young women their age, between marriage and spinsterhood. Or something less appealing, given their backgrounds."

Dorian considered Kendrick with care. There was no denying he made a fair point. Sighing, he picked up his cup and sipped his coffee. "What sort of skill do you need this time?"

Kendrick's attention returned to the garden, to the spot where the four women lounged, enjoying their drinks. "Whatever the blonde has to offer."

It took every ounce of training Dorian possessed not to flinch in response to that comment. Keeping his voice cool and level, he said, "Samantha's the best I've got. Unless you're sending her overseas to infiltrate a foreign power, I'm afraid I'll have to refuse. One of the others will serve well enough otherwise."

"Not in this instance."

Dorian studied Kendrick with rising interest. "What the hell are you planning?"

Kendrick reached for his cup and sipped his coffee, using the same stalling tactic Dorian had used a short while ago. "The chief magistrate has his heart set on Adrian Croft."

"Bloody hell."

"He's not the sort of man one arrests for no good reason. Solid proof of every illegal undertaking he's been involved with will be required. No rumors, no maybes, but facts."

"You realize there's a chance Croft might not have taken up the mantle his father left him. According to my own sources, things have been quiet in Portman Square lately."

"As one might expect. It's been seven months since the funeral. Mr. Croft and his sister have been in mourning. I believe things will liven up a little, now that this time has passed."

"If you think Mr. Croft might welcome the comfort offered to him by a beautiful woman with whom he's not acquainted, that he will invite her into his home and give her the chance she needs to find something damning against him, you'd best re-think your strategy, Kendrick." Dorian scoffed. "Any idiot would recognize that as a trap from a mile away."

Kendrick coughed, then cleared his throat. "We're hoping he'll let something slip."

"Not going to happen." When Kendrick merely stared at him, Dorian sighed. "The Crofts did not evade capture for generations by letting something slip. Devil take it. Who do you think you're dealing with? This man you're after has been raised, much like every other heir in the country, to assume his legacy. He'll know not to trust a stranger with his secrets."

Uncertainty finally showed itself in the tightly knit lines on Kendrick's forehead. "All we have are assumptions, woven together from situations that turned in the Crofts' favor. The problem is those who've been blackmailed, or who might know of men who went missing, refuse to speak out because they're afraid of the repercussions."

"Or that is what you believe," Dorian murmured, "since all this has yet to be proven."

"Precisely."

Dorian pinched his brow and muttered a curse. "There's no denying that men sat up straighter whenever George Croft entered a room. He conveyed power and an underlying hint of aggression. His fortune was substantial. Have you tried following the money?"

Kendrick nodded. "There's a country estate – Deerhaven Manor – a good three hours' ride from the City. It's on the shore, near Worthing. Apparently most of the Croft earnings come from fishing and the barley Deerhaven grows in its fields."

"Sounds reasonable." Dorian drank some more coffee. "Have you considered the possibility that there may be nothing to find?"

"I don't believe that. They'd need a fleet of boats, not the three I've got on record, and a hell of a lot more land for fishing and grain to support their lavish lifestyles. Besides which there's also the schools they've sponsored and the almshouses they've opened."

"You do truly make them sound perfectly horrid."

"My point is, their fortune comes from somewhere other than where they claim or it wouldn't be large enough to cover these huge expenses."

Dorian knew Kendrick was likely correct, yet he was compelled to make another suggestion. "Secret investments, perhaps?"

"Maybe, but there's something else going on as well. I'd stake my career on it, Harlowe. Grown men don't look like they're ready to piss themselves at the mention of somebody's name, unless they have cause to fear that person." Kendrick's eyebrows dipped. "Last time I mentioned Croft to a smuggler we'd apprehended, he said the smuggling was nothing compared with the killing he'd done. That's how terrified he was – he was willing to hang for a murder I doubt he committed, just so Croft wouldn't come after him for thinking he'd spilled information to Bow Street."

"And did he?" Curiosity hung in the hair. "Hang, that is?"

"No. I released him, hoping he'd lead to more information. Three days later, some dockworkers fished him out of the Thames."

"In other words, it looks like you're on to something."

"Truth is, the chief magistrate needs a win and so do I."

"You probably shouldn't go around mentioning that. Doesn't instill much faith." He chuckled when Kendrick blanched. "If what you suspect about Croft is true, Samantha will find out. But she can't do so in the space of one week. She'll need time – lots of time – so the acquaintance she builds with Croft appears natural."

Kendrick leaned in. "How much time are you thinking, exactly?"

"A month or two at least."

The other man sat so utterly still, it was clear he'd hoped for a much shorter time-frame. He finally nodded. "Very well, but I want regular updates on her progress."

Dorian agreed to the terms and saw Kendrick out before returning to the terrace. Resuming his seat, he allowed himself a peaceful moment to mull over their meeting while finishing off the last of his coffee.

He had every faith in Samantha's ability to see this mission through even though he feared the impact Adrian Croft might have upon her.