Chapter 7

Simone exited the coach and came to a stop in front of the boarding house. She didn't know quite what to expect, but she knew she needed to be prepared for anything. She did, however, feel comforted by Caleb's presence, despite her many objections to having him as a partner.

She didn't like being vulnerable around anyone. She had fallen down a thousand times, but she had always gotten back up. She wasn't afraid of breaking, but she was afraid of people knowing it.

Caleb came to stand next to her and asked, "Are you ready?"

"I am always ready," she replied.

With a glance at her, Caleb said, "That is good because we have no idea what we are getting ourselves into."

"It will work out."

"How are you so confident all the time?" Caleb inquired.

Simone shrugged. "I have to be," she said. "I can't very well go in expecting failure."

Caleb offered his arm. "We have each other now. I promise I won't let you get hurt."

"I am not your responsibility," she argued as she placed her hand on his sleeve.

"No, but we are partners, and that means something to me," Caleb said. "It means whatever we do we do together."

Together.

She quite liked the sound of that.

Simone smiled. "All right," she said.

Caleb gave her a curious look. "You aren't going to argue with me?"

"I see no reason to, at least right now," Simone replied. "But I am sure I will think of a reason to argue with you later."

"Ah, I have something to look forward to," Caleb joked.

Simone brought her gaze back towards the boarding house. "If you are ready…" Her words trailed off.

"Let's go save England," Caleb said as he started to lead her into the boarding house.

As they stepped into the entry hall, a desk was positioned in the back and an older man sat behind it. He had white hair and his clothes were noticeably wrinkled.

The attendant glanced up. "Are you two looking to rent a room?"

Simone offered him a polite smile. "No, we are here to meet someone," she replied. "A Miss Juliette."

A look of displeasure came to the older man's face. "What business do you have with a French woman?" he half-asked, half-demanded.

"My business is my own," Simone replied, her smile remaining intact.

With a glance at the corridor, the attendant said, "This is a fine establishment. You best remember that."

Simone didn't dare contradict the man, but it wasn't hard to notice that the building was in a state of disrepair. The paper on the walls was faded and sagging. The floor didn't fare much better. The wood boards were worn and hadn't been polished in quite some time.

Caleb spoke up. "We are just here to visit a friend."

"You should keep better friends," the attendant grumbled. "The French are a lousy, no-good people. I wouldn't have even rented them a room, but my wife saw to them when I was out."

"What room are they in?" Caleb asked.

The attendant scowled. "2B," he responded. "At least my wife had the good sense to put them in a room where I can keep watch on them. I don't want them to sneak out and not pay their bill." He pointed towards the corridor. "The door is on your left."

"Thank you," Simone said. "Do you, by chance, know if Miss Juliette is by herself?"

"Neither her nor her useless brother have left their room since this morning," the attendant responded. "If you were smart, you wouldn't associate with those blasted Frenchmen."

Simone knew she shouldn't contradict the man, but she couldn't seem to help herself. "Not all Frenchmen are bad," she said.

"Show me a good Frenchman, and I will believe you."

Knowing they weren't going to change the attendant's mind, Simone started walking towards the corridor that was just off the entry hall.

They arrived at the door that read "2B" and Caleb knocked.

Simone slipped her hand into the opening in her gown and gripped the hilt of the dagger. She didn't know what to expect, and she needed to be prepared for anything.

After a long moment, the door opened and Juliette stood before them. She was dressed in the same simple gown she wore the day before but her hair was pulled into a loose chignon.

Juliette's eyes landed on Caleb and a broad smile came to her lips. "Well, look who it is," she said in a sultry voice. "Thank you for coming. Do come in."

Caleb put his hand out, indicating Simone should go first.

Juliette took a step back and opened the door wide. "Is that terrible man still out front?" she asked.

Simone assumed Juliette was talking about the grumpy attendant. "He is," she confirmed.

"That man is awful, just awful," Juliette said before she closed the door behind them. "He took an immediate dislike to us because we are French."

"Some people can't see past themselves," Simone attempted.

A tall man stood between the two straw mattresses in the small, rectangular-shaped room. His dark hair framed a thin face, accentuated by a slightly crooked nose. There was no smile on his lips to greet them, but his eyes conveyed a sense of contempt. By all accounts, he did not look happy to see them.

Juliette gestured towards the man. "Allow me to introduce you to my brother, Victor."

Victor crossed his arms over his chest. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he grumbled, his words anything but cordial.

"Be nice to our guests," Juliette chided.

He huffed but remained silent.

Juliette turned back towards Simone. "I see you brought your handsome suitor," she said with a wink.

"He is not my suitor," Simone rushed to say. "We are just friends, friends with a common purpose."

Juliette didn't look convinced but she shifted her gaze towards Caleb. "Mr. Bolingbroke," she said. "Thank you for coming."

Caleb's gaze remained expressionless, giving nothing away. "How is it that you know my name?" he inquired.

"I have my ways." Juliette tsked. "You didn't think we would invite a stranger to meet with us, did you?"

"I'm afraid I am at a disadvantage then since I don't know anything about you, or your brother," Caleb said.

"In due time," Juliette stated. "But we brought you and Simone here for a purpose."

Simone lifted her brow. "Which is?" she asked.

"We need you to secure an invite for us to Lord Pendley's ball," Juliette replied. "It is to be the event of the Season and we don't dare miss it."

"Lord Pendley's ball is in five days," Simone pointed out. "It would be nearly impossible to get you on the guest list now."

Juliette nodded. "True, but surely you can use your connections to help us."

Caleb spoke up. "Why, pray tell, do you wish to go to the ball?"

With a wave of her hand, Juliette said, "Victor and I haven't been to a ball in ages and we think it would be fun to do so."

Simone didn't believe Juliette's innocent act for one moment. There was a reason why Juliette and Victor wanted to attend the ball, and they needed to discover that reason.

Victor crossed his arms over his chest. "If you don't secure us an invite, we can't guarantee we won't kill you."

"Are you truly resorting to threats already, Brother?" Juliette asked lightly. "We haven't even given them a chance to respond. They will do the right thing. I am sure of it."

Juliette smiled at them and continued. "I know we are like-minded individuals and this would truly help support the cause. What do you say?"

"How will it help support the cause?" Simone asked.

"You don't need to worry your pretty little head about that," Juliette remarked. "I knew you would come in handy when I saw you at the pub."

Simone exchanged a glance with Caleb before saying, "We will try our best to secure an invite."

"Trying isn't good enough," Juliette said, her voice growing hard. "You will do as we say or else I can't promise Victor won't make good on his threats."

Caleb looked hesitant, as if he were cowed by Juliette's threats, but Simone knew it was just an act. "We will get you an invite to the ball, but you must promise no harm will befall us," he said.

The smile returned to Juliette's lips. "You have my word," she replied, her words sounding very much like an empty promise. "I knew you were a smart man." She walked to the door and opened it. "This goes without saying, but you would be wise not to discuss this conversation with anyone. It could have dire consequences."

"I understand," Simone said as she approached the door. "How are we to contact you?"

"You don't," Juliette replied. "We will make contact with you."

After they stepped into the corridor, the door was shut behind them. Caleb offered his arm and led her towards the waiting coach. Once they were situated, the coach rolled into traffic, leaving the boarding house behind.

"Why do you suppose they want to go to Lord Pendley's ball?" Caleb asked.

"I don't rightly know, but whatever the reason is, it can't be good," Simone replied. "Victor matches the description of one of the French spies that was given previously, right down to the broken nose. I think it is a reasonable assumption that we have found them."

Caleb nodded in agreement. "We should report our findings to Kendrick at once. He might just arrest them and be done with it."

"Perhaps, or he might want to discover their intent for attending the ball," Simone mused.

"They clearly do not perceive us as a threat," Caleb said. "Which will work in our favor. Although, I can't help but wonder how Juliette knew my name. I suspect Mr. Barnard might have blown my cover."

"We will need to proceed with caution if that is the case," Simone said. "Who knows what else Mr. Barnard told Juliette and Victor?"

Simone shifted her gaze towards the street vendors who were trying to hawk their goods on the pavement, and she was about to turn away, when she saw a familiar face in the crowd. Lucy. Her late mother's lady's maid.

Lucy was dressed in a worn blue gown and her silver hair was tucked neatly under a bonnet. She was standing by a cart that was selling loaves of bread.

"Lucy!" Simone shouted, hoping to get her attention.

Lucy turned her head, and their eyes met. Widening with surprise, her eyes took on a hint of panic. She promptly averted her gaze, ducking her head, and briskly walked away without bothering to glance back.

Caleb had followed her gaze and asked, "Who is Lucy?"

"She was my mother's lady's maid," Simone replied as she watched Lucy disappear into the crowd. "After my mother's death, she quit and no one has heard from her since."

"It doesn't appear she was pleased to see you," Caleb said.

"No, which is odd," Simone responded. "Lucy was almost like a second mother to me. She was my mother's lady's maid for as long as I can remember."

"Would you like us to stop the carriage so you can go after her?" Caleb asked.

Simone shook her head. "No, she is gone. I do not believe she wanted to be found."

Shifting in his seat, Caleb asked, "Are you going to let that stop you?"

Her lips twitched. "You know me so well."

"I am starting to," Caleb responded.

Simone didn't understand why Lucy had such a reaction to her, but she was going to find out. She had never understood why Lucy had quit so abruptly. It was so unexpected of her that it had taken Simone by surprise. But a part of her needed to see Lucy again. She needed closure.

Caleb sat in the corner of White's as he relished the time alone. He was biding his time until he needed to meet with Kendrick, but until then, he just wanted a drink and to retreat into his own thoughts.

He was pleased that they had found the French spies, but that meant his time with Simone was coming to an end. And he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. On one hand, he wouldn't have to work so hard to gain someone's approval, but she had softened towards him. He was sure of that. He could see it in her smile and hear it in her laugh. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she might actually enjoy his company.

But he did know better. Simone was anxious to get rid of him. She preferred to work alone and had told him as much. He just hoped that they could remain friends, even after their assignment was completed.

He couldn't quite explain it but having Simone in his life made it that much better.

As he brought his drink to his lips, he saw Roswell and Fredrick approaching the table with obnoxious smiles on their faces.

"Good afternoon," Roswell greeted as he pulled out a chair. "I didn't think we would find you here, considering you have been spending all of your time with Miss Delacourt." The mirth in his voice was undeniable and rather vexing.

Caleb placed his drink onto the table. "You know precisely why we are spending so much time together."

"I didn't realize that your assignment included having dinner with the lovely Miss Delacourt," Fredrick joked.

"That was not by choice," Caleb argued. "My mother is attempting to play matchmaker."

Roswell nodded. "I can confirm that fact," he said. "Lady Oxley has turned all of her time and energy on ensuring Caleb is wed."

Fredrick shrugged. "That wouldn't be the worst thing."

Caleb looked heavenward. "You are only saying that because you are getting married soon."

"I am, and I am counting down each day in anticipation," Fredrick said. "I cannot wait until Emilia and I can be alone in the same room."

"What a terrible burden you have, my lord," Caleb teased.

Fredrick gave him a pointed look. "Wait until you have fallen madly in love and you have to maintain a proper distance."

"I don't intend to fall in love," Caleb responded. "Falling in love is a liability in our profession."

Roswell spoke up. "I disagree. It has been rather nice to confide in Anette about our assignments. It has helped me see things in a different way."

"That is good for you, but I have made it no small secret that I have no designs to marry," Caleb said. "I can't risk bringing a wife into my complex life."

"Your life is no more complex than ours and we have found happiness," Roswell stated.

Caleb mustered a smile onto his lips. "I am happy."

"Are you?" Fredrick asked. "You don't seem happy."

"What does a happy person look like?" Caleb asked. "Because I can assure you that I am perfectly content with my life."

Fredrick leaned back in his seat and studied Caleb. "You aren't happy," he said matter-of-factly. "I can see it in your eyes."

Caleb huffed. "Do not analyze me."

"I'm not. I am just merely stating the obvious," Fredrick responded. "Happy people don't have to convince others that they are happy. They just are."

Caleb took a sip of his drink before saying, "You are being utterly ridiculous."

"Perhaps I just want everyone to find the joy that I have found with Emilia," Fredrick said. "My fiancée speaks rather highly of Miss Delacourt. She has been teaching Emilia how to throw daggers in her gardens."

"You allow such a thing?" Caleb inquired.

Fredrick gave him a blank look. "Why would I not?" he asked. "Besides, Anette is teaching her how to shoot a pistol. It is no more dangerous than that, and it might come in handy."

"Anette was heading over to Miss Delacourt's townhouse for a lesson as well," Roswell shared. "She was rather excited to learn how to throw daggers."

"That doesn't surprise me," Caleb muttered.

Roswell smirked. "Anette thought Miss Delacourt was a delight when we dined with you. Is she a delight?"

Caleb pushed his drink away from him. "Miss Delacourt is…" His voice trailed off as he tried to think of the right word.

"She is…" Fredrick prodded.

Stubborn. Maddening. Irritatingly beautiful. No, that last one would not do. If he said such a thing, then his friends would think he had fallen for his partner. Which he hadn't. That mere thought was ridiculous.

Knowing they were still waiting for a response, Caleb said, "I suppose Miss Delacourt is tolerable."

"Tolerable?" Fredrick repeated. "I find her to be many things, but tolerable is not one of those things."

"Fine. She is stubborn, almost to a fault," Caleb corrected.

Fredrick grinned. "I concur, but you seem to work well with her," he remarked. "I read about your carriage rides in the Society page."

Caleb held his hand up at a servant passing by to indicate he needed another drink. He didn't think he could have this conversation sober. But he couldn't drink too much since he needed to keep his wits about him.

Why were his friends being so blasted annoying about Simone? Perhaps it might be best if he just departed and ended this line of questioning.

"I should go," Caleb said, pushing back his seat. "I have work I need to see to."

Roswell grew serious and leaned over the table. "Before you go, have you made any progress in your case?" he asked, his voice hushed.

"We believe we found the French spies, but we are still trying to determine their mission," Caleb revealed. "They want us to secure invitations for them to Lord Pendley's ball."

"Did they give a reason why?" Fredrick asked.

"No, but they did threaten us if we didn't obtain invitations," Caleb replied. "We pretended to be disturbed about it, but the threat fell a little flat."

"Have you spoken to Kendrick?" Roswell inquired.

Caleb shook his head. "No, but Simone and I intend to meet with him in a few hours. We are going to meet at headquarters."

"You aren't going to take her on a carriage ride?" Fredrick asked with a smirk.

Caleb worked to keep the displeasure off his features. "Simone and I are just partners, nothing more."

Fredrick put his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean to assume otherwise, but you two appear to have gotten rather close."

"That is what happens when you work so closely together," Caleb defended.

Roswell interjected, "We were never that close."

"That is because you are an idiot," Caleb quipped. "Simone is a proficient agent and we do work well together."

"Simone, is it?" Roswell asked.

Caleb frowned. "She gave me leave to call her by her given name. You are just reading into something that isn't there."

"I don't think I am," Roswell remarked. "I saw the way you two interacted over dinner, and you seem to have a cozy relationship."

A server approached the table and placed three glasses onto the table. Caleb reached for one and took a sip. Why was he having to justify his behavior with Simone?

Fredrick pushed his glass towards Roswell and turned towards the server. "Can I get a cup of tea?"

The server tipped his head before he departed to do his bidding.

Roswell retrieved the glass and said, "It is an odd choice to drink tea in a gentlemen's club."

"Whenever I drink alcohol, it gives me a terrible headache," Fredrick shared. "Besides, why would I care what others think of my drink of choice?"

"Good point," Roswell said, holding his glass up.

Fredrick brought his gaze back to Caleb's. "Back to your French spy problem," he said.

"I don't have a problem," Caleb contested.

"You do, and you don't even realize it," Fredrick remarked. "Why would French spies want to attend Lord Pendley's ball? The man is a staunch Tory."

Roswell lowered his glass to the table. "What if they want to gain access to Lord Pendley's townhouse to root around?"

"They wouldn't need an invite for that," Fredrick said. "They could just sneak in at night under the cloak of darkness. I wonder…" He stopped. "General Merrell will be at Lord Pendley's ball, and many consider him to be Wellington's right-hand man."

Roswell shifted in his seat to face Fredrick. "Surely that can't be a coincidence," he remarked. "But what would the French spies hope to obtain by being in the same ballroom as General Merrell?"

"I doubt they wish to plead their case," Fredrick said.

Caleb lowered his voice. "What if their intention is to assassinate General Merrell?" he asked. "That would be a major blow to Wellington and his troops."

"Why did General Merrell return home?" Roswell asked. "After all, I assume he is needed on the Continent."

"Wellington sent him to secure additional funding for the war since the House of Lords balked at his initial request," Fredrick said.

"That is because the poor cannot take another tax increase to fund the war," Caleb stated. "They are barely surviving as it is."

"Regardless, General Merrell won't be left unprotected at the ball," Roswell said.

"True, but his guards won't be as diligent since they are back on English soil, attending a lord's ball," Fredrick pointed out.

"We will just inform General Merrell of the potential threat on his life, and bring the French spies to Newgate," Caleb said. "Then it will all be over."

Roswell bobbed his head. "Yes, and once you complete your assignment, there is no reason for you to work with Miss Delacourt anymore."

"Precisely," Caleb said. "You and I can go back to being partners." That thought did not sit well with him.

"Is that what you want?" Roswell asked, eyeing him closely.

Caleb was tired of defending himself about his partnership with Simone. His business was his own, and he didn't appreciate their meddling.

Shoving back his chair, he rose and said, "If you will excuse me, I need to go speak to Simone about this."

Caleb didn't wait for a response before he headed towards the main door. He knew his friends meant well, but they didn't understand. He may work well together with Simone, but that is where it ended. There could be no future between him and Simone. It was even laughable to think such a thing.