Chapter 15

Simone wasn't quite sure what to feel. Her father had tried to steal her rightful inheritance and she was residing with two French spies. She felt conflicted about so many things. The only thing that she knew for certain was that she felt something for Caleb, something she didn't quite understand. And those feelings only seemed to intensify with each passing day.

She had so many questions, but very few answers.

Emilia's voice pierced through her thoughts, bringing her back into the present. "Was that better?" she asked.

Simone glanced at the target and saw that Emilia's dagger was embedded in it, albeit slightly off center. "Yes, that is much better than your last attempt."

Emilia studied her for a moment before asking, "Are you all right? You just seem rather preoccupied at the moment."

"I suppose I am," Simone admitted.

Lowering her voice, Emilia inquired, "Is it spy related?"

"It is," Simone confirmed.

"Can I help?"

Simone shook her head. "I don't think you can, but I do thank you for the offer," she said. "I just have to work through a few things on my own."

Emilia glanced at the townhouse before saying, "I read in the Society page that your father's mistress now resides with you."

With a slight wince, Simone said, "I had assumed it wouldn't take long before word got out."

"How are you coping with that change?"

Simone decided to be honest with Emilia, at least, somewhat. "It has been quite the adjustment, to say the least."

"I can only imagine."

She decided to change subjects and she knew one topic that would bring a smile to Emilia's face. "How are the wedding preparations going?"

Just as she'd predicted, a bright smile came to her friend's face. "They are going well," she gushed. "I can scarcely wait until I marry Fredrick. Every day seems to move excruciatingly slow."

Simone laughed. "Your wedding day will come before you know it."

"Speaking of which, I understand you are to be married, as well," Emilia said. "I hope you don't mind but Fredrick told me."

"No, I do not mind. It is only a matter of time before the ton catches wind of it," Simone remarked.

Emilia gave her a curious look. "Are you not excited about the prospect of marrying Mr. Bolingbroke?"

Simone brought a smile to her lips, and hoped it was convincing enough. She was still conflicted about how she felt about marrying Caleb. But she didn't dare reveal that to Emilia so she decided to tell a half-truth. "I am excited, but I have a lot of things going on right now that take precedence."

"What could be more important than getting married?" Emilia hesitated before adding, "I suppose you are busy keeping England safe."

"I am, among other things."

Emilia walked over to the target and removed the dagger. "I do not know Mr. Bolingbroke very well. Is he anything like his sister?"

"No, they are quite different, but in a good way," Simone replied. "Caleb is much more serious than Anette. Although, he does spend a great deal of time teasing me."

"Does that bother you?"

"At first, it did, but now I know it is his way of showing he cares," Simone shared. "Bantering with him is one of my favorite things to do."

Emilia approached her and extended the dagger. "Not everyone is lucky enough to marry for love. We are both so fortunate to do so."

Simone blinked. "You are mistaken. I do not love Caleb."

"Don't you?" Emilia asked.

"No, it is a marriage of practicality. We both thought we would benefit from being married to one another," Simone explained.

Emilia furrowed her brow. "Then why do you smile when you say his name?"

"Do I?"

"You do, which is why I worry that you are setting yourself up for heartbreak," Emilia replied.

Simone slipped the dagger into the folds of her gown. "That won't happen," she rushed to assure her. "By marrying Caleb, I will be able to maintain my cover as a spy, and my heart won't even come into play."

Emilia didn't look convinced. "If you say so…," her words trailing off.

"I do," Simone said. "I thank you for your concern, but it is unfounded."

"And Mr. Bolingbroke feels the same as you?" Emilia questioned.

As they started down the path, Simone replied, "He does, considering it was his idea."

Emilia looked as if she had much more that she wanted to say on the subject, but thankfully she changed topics. "It is a fine day we are having."

"It is," Simone agreed.

"Fredrick is taking me on a carriage ride to Hyde Park during the fashionable hour," Emilia shared. "You are more than welcome to join us."

Simone made a face. "I could not think of anything worse to do with my time."

Emilia laughed. "It is not that bad."

"Hyde Park is terribly crowded during the fashionable hour and there are far too many busybodies that are milling about," Simone said.

"You aren't wrong about that, but it is the time to be seen," Emilia responded.

A footman opened the back door and they stepped inside. While they were making their way towards the entry hall, Simone said, "I prefer to be in the shadows of Society."

"That will all change when you marry Mr. Bolingbroke," Emilia pointed out. "You will one day be a viscountess."

"Not for a long time."

Emilia glanced over at her. "I still can't quite believe this is my life," she admitted. "Just a short time ago, I was a lonely teacher, destined for spinsterhood, and now I am marrying an earl. It is rather surreal."

"I am truly happy for you."

Coming to a stop in the entry hall, Emilia turned to face her. "And I'm happy for you, albeit slightly concerned."

"I assure you that I know what I am doing."

Emilia sighed. "That is the problem," she said. "You think you can control your heart, but that is impossible. You will love who you are meant to love."

Simone smiled at her friend, knowing she was just trying to help. But it was not necessary. She may care for Caleb, but love… no, neither one of them were foolish enough to fall in love. "Love will have no place in our marriage."

"Then why marry him at all?" Emilia asked.

For once, Simone was at a loss for words. She didn't dare reveal that she wanted to marry Caleb, more than she had ever wanted anything before. He was her future. She was sure of that. But how did she explain such a thing without expressing the depths of her feelings?

Emilia must have taken pity on her because she continued. "Thank you for the lesson today. I rather enjoyed myself."

"You are progressing nicely," Simone said.

With a disbelieving huff, Emilia responded, "We both know that isn't true, but at least I hit the target today."

"It just takes practice."

Emilia offered her a grateful look before she headed out the main door and stepped into her waiting coach.

Once the door was closed, Simone debated about what she should do with her time until Caleb came to call upon her. The townhouse was quiet, almost too quiet, making her wonder what Juliette and Victor were up to.

Perhaps her father would be able to enlighten her. Most likely, he would be in his office at this early hour.

Coming to a decision, she headed towards the study in the rear of the townhouse but her steps faltered as she heard her father's gruff voice drifting out into the corridor.

"That isn't what we planned," her father growled.

"I know, but plans change," Juliette said. "You, of all people, should know that."

Simone crept closer to the door, being mindful to avoid the floorboards that were prone to creaking. She needed to hear this conversation.

Juliette's voice grew more persuasive. "It is just one night."

A silence ensued before her father said in a resigned voice, "Very well, but I will be the one that will tell Simone."

"I assumed as much," Juliette responded.

Simone risked the opportunity to peek into the study and saw her father and Juliette were sitting next to one another on the settee. What did her father have to tell her, and why did it seem as if the decision weighed upon him?

Her father rose from his seat. "I suppose I will tell her now."

It was time for her to leave, and quickly. Simone didn't want to be caught eavesdropping on their conversation.

In quick steps, she headed towards the drawing room and dropped down onto the settee. She reached for her needlework and started working on the handkerchief.

It wasn't long before her father stepped into the drawing room. "Ah, there you are," he said. "I need to speak to you."

"Oh," Simone responded, lowering the needlework to her lap. "Is everything all right?"

Her father stepped further into the room. "We will be attending Lord Pendley's ball in two days' time and Juliette will be accompanying us."

Simone's mouth dropped. "You are bringing your mistress to Lord Pendley's ball?"

Rather than looking ashamed, he buckled down. "I am, and I expect you to be cordial with her," he said. "Do not think I haven't noticed that you go out of your way to avoid Juliette."

"She should not be residing with us, Father."

With a swipe of his hand, her father responded, "It won't matter soon enough. Once you are wed, it will no longer be a concern."

Feeling hurt well up inside of her, she asked, "Are you so quick to get rid of me?" She held her breath, fearful of his response. It was not the first time she had asked the question, but her father always seemed to skirt around the answer. Why wouldn't he just tell her the truth?

His eyes softened, but his body remained rigid, almost as if he were fighting a battle within himself. "That has nothing to do with this. You should have been married years ago."

"I am only in my third Season," she argued.

"Regardless, I need to speak to Caleb about your dowry," he said. "Will you inform him of this when he calls upon you?"

"I will."

Her father took a step back. "You should give Juliette a chance. You may discover that she has more in common with your mother than you realize."

Simone didn't say anything in response. What could she say? Her mother was good and kind, and Juliette was conniving. No. There was no comparing them, and she refused to even think on it.

Finding herself curious, Simone asked, "How long have you known Juliette?"

Her father's face blanched. "Why does that matter?"

The way he spoke his words made Simone think Juliette had been around longer than she had realized. "Did Mother know about her?"

In a hard voice, her father replied, "It is none of your business."

Placing her needlework down on the settee, Simone rose. "I thought you loved Mother," she said. "How could you have kept a mistress on the side?"

Her father's eyes narrowed. "You know not what you speak of."

"Then enlighten me."

"No," he replied flatly. "You have no right to be asking me such questions."

Rather than back down, she stood her ground, knowing she was going to stoke her father's ire even more. But she didn't care. "Do you even miss Mother?"

Her father took a commanding step towards her. "I demand that you stop speaking."

"I am not a servant you can order about," Simone said. "I am your daughter, and I deserve to know the truth."

"The truth?" her father huffed. "You deserve nothing. It is only because of my generosity that you are allowed to live here. You would be wise to remember that."

Simone pressed her lips together as she stopped herself from confronting her father about her inheritance. As much as she wanted to reveal his deceit, she knew there was a time and a place for such things. She would bide her time, but she knew he would have his comeuppance, one way or another.

Her father took her silence as acceptance. "Good," he muttered. "I do not want to hear you speak of this nonsense again. Do I make myself clear?"

He didn't bother to wait for her response before he departed from the drawing room.

Simone let out a deep breath as she returned to her seat. Her father was impossible. She already knew he was a liar, but she didn't know how far his treachery went. Was he a traitor to the Crown or was he being forced to aid Juliette? As much as she wanted to believe there was some good in her father, she had to admit that the odds were not in his favor.

Caleb's coach came to a stop outside of his agency's headquarters and he opened the door, not bothering to wait for the footman to come around. He looked up at the dilapidated building and realized that he missed when their headquarters were situated below a bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread was much more welcoming than the pungent odor that hung in the air in this part of Town.

He headed into the building and tipped his head at the agent who was stationed along the back wall. "Good morning," he greeted.

The agent moved to the side and opened the door, allowing him entry. "Kendrick was asking about you earlier."

"Was he in a good mood?"

"Is he ever?" the agent joked.

"You make a good point," Caleb replied as he stepped into the main hall.

He passed all the agents that were stationed at their desks, no one giving him any heed. Once he arrived at Kendrick's office, he knocked and waited to be acknowledged.

"Enter," Kendrick ordered.

Caleb opened the door and stepped into the small, square room. "I received your message," he said, closing the door behind him.

Kendrick shuffled the papers on his desk before giving him his full attention. "I made some more inquiries into Lady Hungerton's death and I discovered a few odd discrepancies."

"Such as?" Caleb asked as he sat on a chair that faced the desk.

"The coroner that was sent to investigate her death turned up dead a few weeks later," Kendrick replied. "Someone broke into his home and shot him."

"Did they find the killer?"

Kendrick shook his head. "They had no leads, no witnesses, and the case eventually went cold," he said.

"Do you think the coroner's death was related to Lady Hungerton's case?"

"I don't know, but shortly after Lady Hungerton's death, the baron let go all of the household staff at his country estate and boarded it up," Kendrick replied.

Caleb frowned. "Did he at least provide them references?"

"Some, but others, he let fend for themselves," Kendrick shared. "According to the villagers, Lord Hungerton never has come back to his country estate."

"You could make a case that he is grieving the loss of his wife."

Kendrick bobbed his head. "You could, but that is where it gets a little more interesting." He leaned back in his seat. "When we looked into Lord Hungerton's finances, per your suggestion, we discovered he has been sending Mr. Underwood fifty pounds a month for the past two years."

"Who is Mr. Underwood?"

"He is one of the Bedlam's Governors," Kendrick said. "Also, I should note that right before Lady Hungerton supposedly drowned, a large donation was given to Bedlam by her husband."

Caleb furrowed his brow. "Why the sudden interest in Bedlam?"

"Why, indeed?" Kendrick asked. "The Court of Governors has been pleading for donations to fund the asylum for years but Lord Hungerton doesn't strike me as a kindhearted donor."

"No, he doesn't," Caleb agreed.

"There is only one explanation that I can come up with, and I don't think you are going to like it," Kendrick said.

It was easy to deduce what Kendrick was going to say but he hoped it wasn't true. If Lord Hungerton truly had his wife admitted to Bedlam, then her fate was worse than death. Many sections of the hospital were deemed uninhabitable, and the cruel, unusual treatment of the patients had been under investigation for years.

Kendrick met his gaze. "If he hid her away in Bedlam, it would explain why her body was never found."

"But why lie?" Caleb asked. "Why not just have her admitted?"

"Because it would cause too many questions and Lady Hungerton was well-liked amongst the ton," Kendrick replied. "No doubt the news of her admittance would have made its way to the queen and she might have interceded on Lady Hungerton's behalf."

Caleb jumped up from his seat. "If this is true, we have to do something to help Lady Hungerton."

Kendrick gave him a knowing look. "Lord Hungerton has every right to admit his wife to Bedlam. It isn't right, but it is the law."

He pressed his lips together before musing, "What if we circulated news that Lady Hungerton is still alive, and it will force Lord Hungerton to retrieve her."

"Or he could just have her killed," Kendrick said. "Patients die all the time at Bedlam and no one asks any questions. Quite frankly, no one cares what happens to them."

Caleb balled his hands into tight fists. "That doesn't make it right."

"I never said that it does, but the hospital has been understaffed, underfunded and overcrowded for years," Kendrick remarked. "It would be easy to slip someone like Lady Hungerton into the hospital, especially if Lord Hungerton was lining their pockets."

Caleb refused to accept that there was nothing that they could do to help Lady Hungerton. He would find a way to help her. He had to. He couldn't let her continue to suffer horrific conditions through no fault of her own.

"I know that look," Kendrick said. "You intend to go half-cocked on me. Don't you?"

He took a step closer to the desk. "I am going to free Lady Hungerton one way or another, and no one is going to stop me."

Kendrick studied him for a moment. "Good," he said. "Once you have retrieved her, I have a cottage just outside of London that could be used to house her for the time being."

"You aren't going to stop me?"

"Stop you?" Kendrick asked. "No, I am going to help you. But I want you to understand that there are risks associated with rescuing Lady Hungerton."

Caleb bobbed his head. "I understand."

Kendrick leaned back in his seat. "Do you intend to tell Miss Delacourt?"

"I think she has a right to know about her mother," Caleb replied.

"Yes, but she might do something drastic. We both know that Miss Delacourt doesn't always think through the repercussions of her actions," Kendrick remarked.

Caleb had to acknowledge that Kendrick had a point, but he also knew that Simone would never forgive him if he kept something like this from her. He had just gotten her to trust him and he didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize that.

Kendrick grinned. "You are going to tell her straightaway, aren't you?"

"I see no other way," Caleb replied. "Besides, we are partners, and Simone would do the same for me."

"Speaking of which, when you two are married, do you want to continue working cases together?" Kendrick asked.

"I do."

Kendrick leaned forward in his seat. "It is quite unusual for spies to marry one another, but I suppose it will be for the best."

"You have no objections?"

With a huff, Kendrick replied, "I have many, but I shall keep them to myself. I just want to ensure that your intentions are honorable when it comes to Miss Delacourt."

"They are," Caleb assured him. "This marriage will be in name only, giving Simone the freedom to do as she pleases."

"Very good, but before you go, we must discuss the French spies that are residing at Miss Delacourt's townhouse." Kendrick grew somber. "Has any progress been made on discovering their intentions?"

"Not yet."

Kendrick reached for a stack of papers on his desk and brought them in front of him. "My agents scoured Lord Hungerton's office but found nothing that would indicate he was working with the French. But how could he not know his mistress is a French spy?" he asked. "I'm going to give you two more days to investigate and then I'm going to arrest them, including Lord Hungerton."

"What if Lord Hungerton is not involved?" Caleb asked. "Do you truly want to risk arresting a baron, especially one as influential as him?"

"I don't, but unless you can convince me otherwise, I am going to assume he is guilty by association," Kendrick replied. "Inform Miss Delacourt of my decision."

"She won't be happy."

"Perhaps not, but she will understand," Kendrick said. "I am just left to wonder if a man is capable of hiding his wife away in Bedlam, and faking her death, where do his loyalties lie? Does he even have any?"

Caleb nodded his agreement. "Furthermore, we found proof that Lord Hungerton tried to cheat Simone out of her inheritance."

"That doesn't surprise me. The more I am learning about the baron, the less I like him," Kendrick said. "Now off with you. I have work that I need to see to."

Caleb walked over to the door and stepped into the main hall. As he exited the building, a feeling of dread settled over him. He was not looking forward to the upcoming conversation with Simone. He would have to tell her some hard truths and he hoped she was in the right frame of mind to hear them.

Once he was situated in the coach, it started making its way down the street and he knew it would only be a short drive until he arrived at Simone's townhouse.

He leaned his head against the back of the coach and closed his eyes. Simone would no doubt be angry and hurt by her father's actions, but that might be the least of their concerns. He might be aiding the French, an offense that is punishable by death.

Caleb knew that Simone was strong, but even she had her limits. Could she handle what needed to be done?

It wasn't long before the coach came to a stop in front of Simone's townhouse and Caleb stepped down onto the pavement. He approached the main door and knocked. It was promptly opened by the butler and he stood to the side to grant him entry.

After he was in the entry hall, the butler ordered, "Wait here, sir. I will inform Miss Delacourt of your arrival."

The butler walked away and disappeared into the drawing room. A moment later he stepped out and gestured towards the door. "Miss Delacourt will see you now."

Caleb didn't need to be told twice. He headed into the drawing room and saw Simone seated on the settee, adorned in a pale green gown. Her hair was styled in a loose chignon at the nape of her neck. To say she looked beautiful would have been an understatement.

Rising, Simone took one look at him and asked, "Whatever is the matter?"

"I need to speak to you."

"We are speaking."

With a glance at the maid in the corner, Caleb responded, "Privately, if you don't mind."

Simone's eyes held understanding. "Would you like to take a tour of the gardens?" she asked. "We have the most magnificent roses this time of year."

"That would be wonderful." Caleb stepped forward and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

She placed her hand on his sleeve and allowed him to escort her to the rear of the gardens. Once they started walking down the path, Simone removed her hand and asked, "Now what has you so bothered?"

Caleb knew there was a time and a place to be lighthearted and this was not one of those times. He would just tell her the truth and be done with it.

"I just came from Kendrick's office," he revealed.

A line between her brow appeared. "Is it about my father?" she asked, her words hesitant.

"Yes, in a way, but something came up, something much more pressing, that I need to discuss with you," Caleb said.

Not appearing convinced, Simone asked, "More pressing than my father possibly being a traitor?"

Caleb stopped and turned to face her, his boots grinding on the gravel. He met her gaze and replied, "It is about your mother."

Simone gave him a bemused look. "What about my mother?"

He took a deep breath, knowing what he was about to reveal would change everything. In a voice that betrayed his emotions, he said, "We have reason to believe she might be alive."