It's called the Crimean Wars (I honestly forgot all about it and had to look for it all over again. LOL). This war is actually between the Ottoman Empire and Russia, but because England and France were threatened by Russia's advance, they joined with the Ottoman Empire. I don't think we need to be too accurate with the historical details. The only issue I have, which I only recently realized, is that Crimea is far from England.
Here's a picture:
https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRiMt_VsC_6DVNRWSIWkVhOieGOeLzo7kUAvVxn9B7u4s9QuqwoZg
This means that if Claire is doing spy work for Russia, it will take too long before the information reaches the right ears. Although for the sake of the story, we can always assume that it won't take too long :) Her goal is to steal military info like how many weapons, men, horses will be deployed, supply routes, technology blueprint, etc. Nick's goal is to intercept all the stolen information/documents and discover who is behind it. My idea is that at one point Nick will secretly suspect her and she might also suspect that he works for the Queen. They'll try to throw each other off track, but she'd be closely watched, then would either be fed with false information with the help of his contacts or her messages will be tampered. Because of that, her employers will think that she's a double agent and will send one of their agents to abduct or kill her. Maybe that will be the point where she walks out of her deal with the Russians and starts running for her life. So their problem will be how to save her from both the Russians and the English law.
This is just me making a suggestion, everything is flexible. Feel free to add or erase or edit anything. :)
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Rays of sunlight stabbing through the gaps in between the wooden planks that made up the wall of the room let him know he overslept even while the curtains were still drawn together and the room was half-filled with shadows. He turned to his left to the face of a woman curled up at his side. She was snoring lightly, probably still dreaming, but Nicholas didn’t have the freedom she had. He pulled himself out of the bed and started to get dressed.
Martin Brown might have the looks and build of a scholar, but he was far from your stereotypical university professor who devoted themselves to their books and ledgers. No. It might just be the way he dressed and the all-knowing manner in which he spoke that made him look scholar-like, but the man was far from being uptight. The pretty lady sleeping on his bed said so herself. Martin Brown was frequently at Grapes, usually seen dining and drinking with several other working class men. Doing business with women of compromised virtues was part of his leisure activities, which was confirmed by Caroline. She also noted that he was a rather intimidating business partner, but he was a good payer.
“Must you leave so early, Simon?”
Nicholas finished buckling his belt and then sat on the bed with one of his boots on hand. He smiled and looked over his shoulder at the sleepy face of his informant. “Must I sleep with you each time you give me a juicy piece of gossip, Caroline?” He teased, pulling his boots on and retrieving the other one from under the bed.
Caroline sighed. She pushed herself off the bed and crawled to the edge, laying her cheek on his shoulder as she let her body lean into his back. The woman closed her eyes and took in a deep contented breath. “I like the way the sunlight touches your hair. It turns to gold,” She whispered. “I want to trim it off and sell it all.”
He chuckled, but remembered to wash the color off his head thoroughly and quickly. He was supposed to meet with Claire and his father that day. Also, his upper lip was itching because of the concoction he used to attach the fake moustache, which was another reason why he shouldn’t have stayed long. “I cannot stay. There are pressing matters for me to attend to,” he said, lacing each word with as much regret as he could, but as he spoke, Caroline wrapped her arms around him in silent protest.
“When will you be able to stay longer than one night?” she asked.
“Not until my master’s business is leading in London. Before that, we have to take care to eliminate competition,” he confessed then turned around so he was facing her. She was a beautiful woman with pale skin and dark green eyes. Her face was so gentle it hurt to think about what she did for a living. He cupped that face and caressed her cheek with the thumb of one hand. Caroline was a strong soul. She was the mistress of her own trade, part owner of the Grapes Pub, and – well – a selection of young ladies who promised a most memorable night in return of an earnest payment. “Caroline, darling. Do you doubt that I will stay for good when this is all over?”
She shook her head, but he thought he saw a shadow of doubt crossed her face, which was not good for business. “Alright,” he sighed, but she placed a finger on his lip, silencing him just like Claire did the night before.
“I have listed the names of the men who I’ve seen with Martin Brown,” she stated in business-like manner. “Those names are those of the ones that fit your description. The piece of paper is inside the drawer. Now leave before you are missed, Simon.”
It was his turn to shake his head in disagreement. He captured his hand and placed it down on her lap. Before she could say any more protest, he leaned close to her and sealed her mouth with his.
****************
“Where have you been, Nicholas?”
Bennett didn’t look happy. It was apparent with the way he roared the words out of his mouth from where he stood on the second floor balcony. The servant at the front door flinched visibly and retreated as soon as he got hold of the young master’s jacket.
It was almost lunch when Nick returned to their townhouse wearing his usual carefree expression. His hair was wet and tousled and there were dark circles under his eyes. In his hand was a neatly folded paper, which he hoped would placate the old man.
“Get yourself fixed and dressed like a proper gentleman, I have promised Lord Abbott that we shall be joining them at lunchtime today,” he continued with the same intensity as his greeting.
He hadn’t forgotten that he promised Claire to meet with her that day, but he couldn’t remember ever sending a note to confirm the verbal promise. It had to be Bennett’s diligence that nearly compromised his gentlemanly acts of kindness towards Claire and her family. He was tired scouting until the wee hours of the night until he tracked down Martin Brown at the Grapes. What he needed was a few hours of quiet rest, but it was too much to ask. He had to still meet with self-important nobles. He felt like a teenager rebelling against his father, but was there any other choice other than to meet with Claire again?
Martin Brown might have the looks and build of a scholar, but he was far from your stereotypical university professor who devoted themselves to their books and ledgers. No. It might just be the way he dressed and the all-knowing manner in which he spoke that made him look scholar-like, but the man was far from being uptight. The pretty lady sleeping on his bed said so herself. Martin Brown was frequently at Grapes, usually seen dining and drinking with several other working class men. Doing business with women of compromised virtues was part of his leisure activities, which was confirmed by Caroline. She also noted that he was a rather intimidating business partner, but he was a good payer.
“Must you leave so early, Simon?”
Nicholas finished buckling his belt and then sat on the bed with one of his boots on hand. He smiled and looked over his shoulder at the sleepy face of his informant. “Must I sleep with you each time you give me a juicy piece of gossip, Caroline?” He teased, pulling his boots on and retrieving the other one from under the bed.
Caroline sighed. She pushed herself off the bed and crawled to the edge, laying her cheek on his shoulder as she let her body lean into his back. The woman closed her eyes and took in a deep contented breath. “I like the way the sunlight touches your hair. It turns to gold,” She whispered. “I want to trim it off and sell it all.”
He chuckled, but remembered to wash the color off his head thoroughly and quickly. He was supposed to meet with Claire and his father that day. Also, his upper lip was itching because of the concoction he used to attach the fake moustache, which was another reason why he shouldn’t have stayed long. “I cannot stay. There are pressing matters for me to attend to,” he said, lacing each word with as much regret as he could, but as he spoke, Caroline wrapped her arms around him in silent protest.
“When will you be able to stay longer than one night?” she asked.
“Not until my master’s business is leading in London. Before that, we have to take care to eliminate competition,” he confessed then turned around so he was facing her. She was a beautiful woman with pale skin and dark green eyes. Her face was so gentle it hurt to think about what she did for a living. He cupped that face and caressed her cheek with the thumb of one hand. Caroline was a strong soul. She was the mistress of her own trade, part owner of the Grapes Pub, and – well – a selection of young ladies who promised a most memorable night in return of an earnest payment. “Caroline, darling. Do you doubt that I will stay for good when this is all over?”
She shook her head, but he thought he saw a shadow of doubt crossed her face, which was not good for business. “Alright,” he sighed, but she placed a finger on his lip, silencing him just like Claire did the night before.
“I have listed the names of the men who I’ve seen with Martin Brown,” she stated in business-like manner. “Those names are those of the ones that fit your description. The piece of paper is inside the drawer. Now leave before you are missed, Simon.”
It was his turn to shake his head in disagreement. He captured his hand and placed it down on her lap. Before she could say any more protest, he leaned close to her and sealed her mouth with his.
****************
“Where have you been, Nicholas?”
Bennett didn’t look happy. It was apparent with the way he roared the words out of his mouth from where he stood on the second floor balcony. The servant at the front door flinched visibly and retreated as soon as he got hold of the young master’s jacket.
It was almost lunch when Nick returned to their townhouse wearing his usual carefree expression. His hair was wet and tousled and there were dark circles under his eyes. In his hand was a neatly folded paper, which he hoped would placate the old man.
“Get yourself fixed and dressed like a proper gentleman, I have promised Lord Abbott that we shall be joining them at lunchtime today,” he continued with the same intensity as his greeting.
He hadn’t forgotten that he promised Claire to meet with her that day, but he couldn’t remember ever sending a note to confirm the verbal promise. It had to be Bennett’s diligence that nearly compromised his gentlemanly acts of kindness towards Claire and her family. He was tired scouting until the wee hours of the night until he tracked down Martin Brown at the Grapes. What he needed was a few hours of quiet rest, but it was too much to ask. He had to still meet with self-important nobles. He felt like a teenager rebelling against his father, but was there any other choice other than to meet with Claire again?
I think I like The hunter is being Hunted idea. Send me a PM if you're still looking for someone to do this one with you.
Bittersweet. It was such a bittersweet victory, getting her to say yes to him for the first time. On one hand, he wanted to lift her off the ground and twirl her around as he celebrated the first success of their relationship, but on the other hand, he wanted to let himself be run down by her carriage. This was it. He was going to get married. Suddenly the latter seemed to weigh more than the former.
“I cannot imagine you wanting your space after I’m done with you,” he said, grinning at her. There was no reason to show his crushed and disappointed side. He had most of his life to practice masquerading with people of every standing. He found ladies were the easiest prey, because – well – most were disarmed by his charm and good looks. Not that he thought Ms. Abbott was the same as most ladies, he already admitted that she was not, but all the same she was a woman with a woman’s mind and emotions. He just hoped she would keep out of his way, because there was a lot of work to do.
“However, Ms. Abbott,” Nicholas continued. “Much as I would like to spend more time with you, I believe you need to go back to your estate. Lord Abbott might miss you and somehow find our inappropriate meeting here at the park an excuse to make this hard for the two of us.” Not that he could do anything worse than this. “I shall send a note announcing my intent to visit you. Until then…” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.
************
Nicholas stayed behind hours after Claire left the park. He rode his horse around the over 100 hectares observing the coming and going of pale faced ladies and the well-dressed gentlemen. But his purpose didn’t happen until the sky was tinted with orange and dark blue. It wasn’t dark yet, but perhaps that was the point, because many suspected the dark, but transactions done in daylight were, more often than not, overlooked.
A gentleman and his horse came trotting by the lake. He surveyed the area and then dismounted. Nicholas had done the same a few minutes before and was sitting on a bench, reading a book, while his horse nibbled on grass not too far away. He was across the lake from the other gentleman and his horse. Tall, blonde and slight in form, Mr. Brown was a promising your associate of Lord Edwards of the House of Lords. Mr. Brown was perhaps a year or two older than Nick.
After a few minutes of pretending to read under poor lighting conditions, another person approached blonde Mr. Brown. Nicholas closed his book and yawned. He stretched his legs before getting up on his feet and approaching his horse. The two gentlemen across the lake from him were conversing. He climbed up his horse and casually galloped around the lake while assuming an aura of relaxed curiosity. The goal of the afternoon was to see the face of the other gentleman – just that.
“I cannot imagine you wanting your space after I’m done with you,” he said, grinning at her. There was no reason to show his crushed and disappointed side. He had most of his life to practice masquerading with people of every standing. He found ladies were the easiest prey, because – well – most were disarmed by his charm and good looks. Not that he thought Ms. Abbott was the same as most ladies, he already admitted that she was not, but all the same she was a woman with a woman’s mind and emotions. He just hoped she would keep out of his way, because there was a lot of work to do.
“However, Ms. Abbott,” Nicholas continued. “Much as I would like to spend more time with you, I believe you need to go back to your estate. Lord Abbott might miss you and somehow find our inappropriate meeting here at the park an excuse to make this hard for the two of us.” Not that he could do anything worse than this. “I shall send a note announcing my intent to visit you. Until then…” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.
************
Nicholas stayed behind hours after Claire left the park. He rode his horse around the over 100 hectares observing the coming and going of pale faced ladies and the well-dressed gentlemen. But his purpose didn’t happen until the sky was tinted with orange and dark blue. It wasn’t dark yet, but perhaps that was the point, because many suspected the dark, but transactions done in daylight were, more often than not, overlooked.
A gentleman and his horse came trotting by the lake. He surveyed the area and then dismounted. Nicholas had done the same a few minutes before and was sitting on a bench, reading a book, while his horse nibbled on grass not too far away. He was across the lake from the other gentleman and his horse. Tall, blonde and slight in form, Mr. Brown was a promising your associate of Lord Edwards of the House of Lords. Mr. Brown was perhaps a year or two older than Nick.
After a few minutes of pretending to read under poor lighting conditions, another person approached blonde Mr. Brown. Nicholas closed his book and yawned. He stretched his legs before getting up on his feet and approaching his horse. The two gentlemen across the lake from him were conversing. He climbed up his horse and casually galloped around the lake while assuming an aura of relaxed curiosity. The goal of the afternoon was to see the face of the other gentleman – just that.
“Your father is a cautious man,” he muttered to himself as she narrated why she did not ride alone to the park. That was information about his future wife that he needed to take note – she had the tendency to run away. Next thing he needed to learn was the reason for her to run away. Maybe he could induce the circumstances where she would steal one of the horses and ride away from home in the middle of the night. Her leaving him was one way to quickly end the marriage. Then again, until he was done with his mission, it might be wise to stick to the plan rather than waste more time fetching another bride.
He stepped aside, allowing Claire to approach Nightshade. Ms. Abbott seemed to like Nightshade and the horse liked her the same way. In a way, she was lucky that Nicholas’ favorite steed was tame and almost friendly with strangers. There were a couple of horses in the stables which he thought were socially dysfunctional. Nevertheless, he watched with mild amusement as the lady let her bare hand stroke the horse’s neck. She spoke without looking at him as if Nightshade was a more interesting visual subject than himself. He should be insulted had it not be Nightshade, but Nicholas adored the creature he conceded to its majesty.
“First of all, I know it isn’t polite to meet in secret. You don’t have to act like I’m a child that doesn’t know how to act. I understand the confusion with my…background. But I simply meant away from our fathers. They obviously have too much influence, I’m sorry for the confusion. So if meeting at the park is making you uncomfortable, we can go elsewhere.”
She sounded offended, he thought. Was it something he said or wrote? As far as he was concerned, he did just state the facts that proper ladies should not consent to meet with a gentleman alone. She seemed comfortable with private meetings, perhaps she did it often. Perhaps in his spare time, he could investigate the gentlemen who were previously invited by Ms. Claire Abbott to join her in a private meeting. He wanted to point out how comfortable seemed, appearing alone in Hyde Park, with just one coachman who she sent away, but that was not his goal that afternoon.
“Did I offend you, Ms. Abbott?” he asked, pretending to be confused with the way her pretty eyes were glaring at him. “If I did, then I must apologize. I did not mean any insult, I was just teasing.”
It didn’t help. The coldness in her glare didn’t waver, if anything, he only accomplished to maybe give her more reasons to get mad at him. “Nicholas, why are you doing this? Please stop being polite and be frank with me. After last night nothing you say will convince me this is out of love. So is it the money? Because there are some very wealthy women out there that would need only a few sweet nothings whispered in their ear before they were yours. I guess what I’m asking is- my reputation has kept everyone else away. Why not you?”
What a difficult question. Nick closed his eyes and massaged his temples as if he was starting to have a headache. “I knew you would interpret it in a bad way, but last night was not what it looked like,” he sighed, opened his eyes and took a step closer to her. “Although you, as my bride, have the right to know that I did flirt with a couple of other women last night. But before you start cursing me in your head, hear me out. I did that because I represent our family’s business. It’s, ah…. It’s a strategy to attract new clients and widen our network. I need to build rapport with potential customers or business partners that was why I spoke to several other ladies other than you.” He covered her hand, which was stroking Nightshade’s neck, with his, then carefully withdrew it from the steed only to capture with both his hands. “I would kneel here and now in front of you Ms. Abbott if that is what your forgiveness requires. I do not wish to enter into this marriage because of money, my family is rich I have no further need of it.”
Claire was not the typical lady, he was sure of it. Whether or not he liked her, she was going to be his wife and he would be living with her for a period of time. The only way, he thought, to make that period of time peaceful, was to keep her happy. If she would not back down from the marriage, then he had no choice but to charm her to submission.
Nicholas lifted the knuckles of her ungloved hand to his lips. Her hand was so soft and pale, the hands of a princess who perhaps had no idea regarding the difference of house chore and hard labor. “I am not like everyone else,” he whispered, lifting his blue gaze to hers. “I don’t want to be, because what I do want is to be around you day and night. I want to fall asleep every night, watching your sleeping face, and then wake up the following morning to your embrace. I you require reason why I am doing this, here it is – you.”
To be able to say it with an honest longing on his face was something he would brag about in the future. Truth was, he wanted to give her one of the horses in his stables just so she would run away and never return.
He stepped aside, allowing Claire to approach Nightshade. Ms. Abbott seemed to like Nightshade and the horse liked her the same way. In a way, she was lucky that Nicholas’ favorite steed was tame and almost friendly with strangers. There were a couple of horses in the stables which he thought were socially dysfunctional. Nevertheless, he watched with mild amusement as the lady let her bare hand stroke the horse’s neck. She spoke without looking at him as if Nightshade was a more interesting visual subject than himself. He should be insulted had it not be Nightshade, but Nicholas adored the creature he conceded to its majesty.
“First of all, I know it isn’t polite to meet in secret. You don’t have to act like I’m a child that doesn’t know how to act. I understand the confusion with my…background. But I simply meant away from our fathers. They obviously have too much influence, I’m sorry for the confusion. So if meeting at the park is making you uncomfortable, we can go elsewhere.”
She sounded offended, he thought. Was it something he said or wrote? As far as he was concerned, he did just state the facts that proper ladies should not consent to meet with a gentleman alone. She seemed comfortable with private meetings, perhaps she did it often. Perhaps in his spare time, he could investigate the gentlemen who were previously invited by Ms. Claire Abbott to join her in a private meeting. He wanted to point out how comfortable seemed, appearing alone in Hyde Park, with just one coachman who she sent away, but that was not his goal that afternoon.
“Did I offend you, Ms. Abbott?” he asked, pretending to be confused with the way her pretty eyes were glaring at him. “If I did, then I must apologize. I did not mean any insult, I was just teasing.”
It didn’t help. The coldness in her glare didn’t waver, if anything, he only accomplished to maybe give her more reasons to get mad at him. “Nicholas, why are you doing this? Please stop being polite and be frank with me. After last night nothing you say will convince me this is out of love. So is it the money? Because there are some very wealthy women out there that would need only a few sweet nothings whispered in their ear before they were yours. I guess what I’m asking is- my reputation has kept everyone else away. Why not you?”
What a difficult question. Nick closed his eyes and massaged his temples as if he was starting to have a headache. “I knew you would interpret it in a bad way, but last night was not what it looked like,” he sighed, opened his eyes and took a step closer to her. “Although you, as my bride, have the right to know that I did flirt with a couple of other women last night. But before you start cursing me in your head, hear me out. I did that because I represent our family’s business. It’s, ah…. It’s a strategy to attract new clients and widen our network. I need to build rapport with potential customers or business partners that was why I spoke to several other ladies other than you.” He covered her hand, which was stroking Nightshade’s neck, with his, then carefully withdrew it from the steed only to capture with both his hands. “I would kneel here and now in front of you Ms. Abbott if that is what your forgiveness requires. I do not wish to enter into this marriage because of money, my family is rich I have no further need of it.”
Claire was not the typical lady, he was sure of it. Whether or not he liked her, she was going to be his wife and he would be living with her for a period of time. The only way, he thought, to make that period of time peaceful, was to keep her happy. If she would not back down from the marriage, then he had no choice but to charm her to submission.
Nicholas lifted the knuckles of her ungloved hand to his lips. Her hand was so soft and pale, the hands of a princess who perhaps had no idea regarding the difference of house chore and hard labor. “I am not like everyone else,” he whispered, lifting his blue gaze to hers. “I don’t want to be, because what I do want is to be around you day and night. I want to fall asleep every night, watching your sleeping face, and then wake up the following morning to your embrace. I you require reason why I am doing this, here it is – you.”
To be able to say it with an honest longing on his face was something he would brag about in the future. Truth was, he wanted to give her one of the horses in his stables just so she would run away and never return.
Ah, there was his target, standing under the shade of a tree watching him from under the brim of her hat. Twenty meters from her, Nicholas let his horse continue to trot at a leisurely pace, pretending not to notice her presence. It was a fine afternoon and Nightshade would appreciate the exercise. There were a few people entering the park at that hour, but at half past four the park goers would start coming. It would not be good for Ms. Abbott’s request for privacy when people came strolling in the park.
Then again he was curious. Besides, Hyde Park was large enough to contain them all. With this in mind, Nicholas surveyed the area for any signs of Ms. Abbott’s entourage. He passed by a couple of open carriages and tipped an imaginary hat for the young ladies and gentlemen aboard. Completing his small circuit, he decided that perhaps Ms. Abbott did manage to convince her father to send her out alone. There was the carriage that brought her to the park, but there was no maidservants coming out to accompany her. Satisfied with his observation, he led his horse to the tree where the lady waited.
Upon more careful observation, he discovered how the dress she wore flattered her figure. It gave strict emphasis to the lines of her body, from her shoulders, to her side, down to her slender waist, and then widening on the hips. If she was not the woman who was about to ruin his life, he would have been glad to be riding at that exact time in Hyde Park. Nevertheless, the woman standing under the tree was Claire Abbott. The beautiful adulteress, Ms. Claire Abbott.
Nicholas forced his mind back to perspective of the game where he told himself over and over again his assigned role – the suitor. He would woo Ms. Abbott until she was under his thumb, and then perhaps his life wouldn’t be so hard. The gentleman effortlessly climbed down his horse. “Have you been here long, Ms. Abbott?” he asked, leading Nightshade under the shade of the tree. He reached for her gloved hand and brushed his lips on her knuckles, then with a soft, almost gentle voice, he added, “I apologize for not noticing you sooner. And it is difficult not to notice a lady of such elegance and beauty.”
There went his words – to the air – hoping that the recipient would respond positively, but deep down inside he anticipated Ms. Abbott to only hate him more. She was a different kind of woman – a highborn who was immune to flattery. She was a rare kind of woman, and she was the kind that he would rather not involve himself with.
Nicholas straightened himself and let go of her hand. “You didn’t have a horse with you, Ms. Abbott? I take it that you do not favor riding?” Which was logical since he imagined that she had no need, because her father had carriages and coachmen that can bring her to places she wanted to be. Why learn to ride at all? Except maybe because it was fashionable. “Nightshade and I would have appreciated a companion.” He shrugged. “Very well, on to the pressing matter at hand. What did you want to talk about in private, Ms. Abbott?”
Then again he was curious. Besides, Hyde Park was large enough to contain them all. With this in mind, Nicholas surveyed the area for any signs of Ms. Abbott’s entourage. He passed by a couple of open carriages and tipped an imaginary hat for the young ladies and gentlemen aboard. Completing his small circuit, he decided that perhaps Ms. Abbott did manage to convince her father to send her out alone. There was the carriage that brought her to the park, but there was no maidservants coming out to accompany her. Satisfied with his observation, he led his horse to the tree where the lady waited.
Upon more careful observation, he discovered how the dress she wore flattered her figure. It gave strict emphasis to the lines of her body, from her shoulders, to her side, down to her slender waist, and then widening on the hips. If she was not the woman who was about to ruin his life, he would have been glad to be riding at that exact time in Hyde Park. Nevertheless, the woman standing under the tree was Claire Abbott. The beautiful adulteress, Ms. Claire Abbott.
Nicholas forced his mind back to perspective of the game where he told himself over and over again his assigned role – the suitor. He would woo Ms. Abbott until she was under his thumb, and then perhaps his life wouldn’t be so hard. The gentleman effortlessly climbed down his horse. “Have you been here long, Ms. Abbott?” he asked, leading Nightshade under the shade of the tree. He reached for her gloved hand and brushed his lips on her knuckles, then with a soft, almost gentle voice, he added, “I apologize for not noticing you sooner. And it is difficult not to notice a lady of such elegance and beauty.”
There went his words – to the air – hoping that the recipient would respond positively, but deep down inside he anticipated Ms. Abbott to only hate him more. She was a different kind of woman – a highborn who was immune to flattery. She was a rare kind of woman, and she was the kind that he would rather not involve himself with.
Nicholas straightened himself and let go of her hand. “You didn’t have a horse with you, Ms. Abbott? I take it that you do not favor riding?” Which was logical since he imagined that she had no need, because her father had carriages and coachmen that can bring her to places she wanted to be. Why learn to ride at all? Except maybe because it was fashionable. “Nightshade and I would have appreciated a companion.” He shrugged. “Very well, on to the pressing matter at hand. What did you want to talk about in private, Ms. Abbott?”
Is every unicorn unique?
Lol we now have avatars! Mine looks angry.
“Nicholas,” said Bennett, sighing as he closed the door. Once again, Nick found himself with his handler inside his study. Bennett looked less excited and a bit more exasperated as he went and sat on the sofa in the middle of the room. He gestured for Nicholas to do the same. “Come on, Nicholas… James. You know that you are going to have to wed one of these highborn ladies. We agreed that it is the fastest way to get you inside their circle.”
“And perhaps I should have objected, Mr. Bennett. I could continue our operation without the help of a highborn wife by being nameless and discrete. I could even work as a butler and gained information from --”
“Nonsense, James,” Bennett waved a hand to dismiss him. “And do sit down.” With a defeated sigh, Nick did, choosing the empty chair across Bennett. He refilled his glass and took a long drink. “We both know why you are acting this way,” continued the older gentleman. The shadows of the night made the creases on his face look deeper and him a lot more unforgiving than he really was. “I do apologize for not giving you a choice on the matter, but as I have said before, you cannot afford to be picky. We need this fast – Her Majesty needs this.”
Nick looked away, studied the swirling brown liquid in his glass. “I was never given a choice from the start,” he mused to himself.
“We are at war, James.”
“I understand. I’m not dimwitted.”
Bennett leaned forward, resting his elbows to his knees. “Then tell me, why do you object?”
Nick shrugged. “I don’t like her. She doesn’t like me,” he said plain as day. He turned his attention back to his handler. “This is disastrous, I’m telling you. I feel like she is not your ordinary woman. She is… She did turn me down tonight.”
“So there’s our problem – your pride, Mr. Rochford.”
“She did stomp on it,” he confessed. And she was also a spoiled rich man’s child, who was used to getting her way done all the time. Nicholas or James Flannagan was none like her, because unlike her he was forced into the service because he could not afford any other choices.
“I have spoken at length with her father and he consents the union,” said Bennett. He eased up and leaned back on the sofa, but the intensity of his eyes bore down on Nick. “Besides, it’s not like you are marrying her for good. This is probably harder for her, because unlike you she believes that this marriage will be real, but you on the other hand know that it is not.”
Of course. There was no such person as Nicholas Rochford, he was just a made-up character who played charade with the important people of London as a means to an end. Once the spies had been cleared up and the war was won, Nicholas would just disappear. His handler confirmed it by saying, “Once this is over, we are going to stage your death.”
Nick smiled for real. “Make it a good, dramatic one, Mr. Bennett.”
******
The letter from Ms. Abbott found him the following day in the stables tending to his horse. A servant came up behind him carrying the missive which said, ”I need to speak with you – as soon as possible and privately. CA”
Well, it appeared that she heard of the news as well. “And I am going to see her today,” smiling, he told that to his horse. Bennett was right. He didn’t have to take this seriously. He was a spy for the crown and the identity he had was fake. He could marry Claire Abbott for a while.
Nick went straight to his private study and penned a reply. “Please allow me to express my utmost surprise, Ms. Abbott, upon receiving the message. I had reasons to believe that you dislike my company and yet you need to see me soon and in private. Must it be in private? An unmarried lady should not be ‘in private’ with a man – married or unmarried – as it is seen as inappropriate by our ruthless, judgmental society. Nevertheless, since I believe you have heard of our shared fates, I consent to speak with you in private. Meet me at Hyde Park. I will be loitering around the Grand Entrance at around three to four in the afternoon. Can you ride a horse, Ms. Abbott? – Nicholas R.”
He read the whole thing, folded the paper and went downstairs to hand it over to Ms. Abbott’s messenger.
*******
Not to say that he was excited to meet her, but a few minutes before three in the afternoon he was already at Hyde Park wearing a gray vest over white undershirt, riding his horse Nightshade. He wore a black coat over his vest, which matches his trousers, but he wasn’t wearing a hat. He exercised Nightshade as he waited for the lady.
“And perhaps I should have objected, Mr. Bennett. I could continue our operation without the help of a highborn wife by being nameless and discrete. I could even work as a butler and gained information from --”
“Nonsense, James,” Bennett waved a hand to dismiss him. “And do sit down.” With a defeated sigh, Nick did, choosing the empty chair across Bennett. He refilled his glass and took a long drink. “We both know why you are acting this way,” continued the older gentleman. The shadows of the night made the creases on his face look deeper and him a lot more unforgiving than he really was. “I do apologize for not giving you a choice on the matter, but as I have said before, you cannot afford to be picky. We need this fast – Her Majesty needs this.”
Nick looked away, studied the swirling brown liquid in his glass. “I was never given a choice from the start,” he mused to himself.
“We are at war, James.”
“I understand. I’m not dimwitted.”
Bennett leaned forward, resting his elbows to his knees. “Then tell me, why do you object?”
Nick shrugged. “I don’t like her. She doesn’t like me,” he said plain as day. He turned his attention back to his handler. “This is disastrous, I’m telling you. I feel like she is not your ordinary woman. She is… She did turn me down tonight.”
“So there’s our problem – your pride, Mr. Rochford.”
“She did stomp on it,” he confessed. And she was also a spoiled rich man’s child, who was used to getting her way done all the time. Nicholas or James Flannagan was none like her, because unlike her he was forced into the service because he could not afford any other choices.
“I have spoken at length with her father and he consents the union,” said Bennett. He eased up and leaned back on the sofa, but the intensity of his eyes bore down on Nick. “Besides, it’s not like you are marrying her for good. This is probably harder for her, because unlike you she believes that this marriage will be real, but you on the other hand know that it is not.”
Of course. There was no such person as Nicholas Rochford, he was just a made-up character who played charade with the important people of London as a means to an end. Once the spies had been cleared up and the war was won, Nicholas would just disappear. His handler confirmed it by saying, “Once this is over, we are going to stage your death.”
Nick smiled for real. “Make it a good, dramatic one, Mr. Bennett.”
******
The letter from Ms. Abbott found him the following day in the stables tending to his horse. A servant came up behind him carrying the missive which said, ”I need to speak with you – as soon as possible and privately. CA”
Well, it appeared that she heard of the news as well. “And I am going to see her today,” smiling, he told that to his horse. Bennett was right. He didn’t have to take this seriously. He was a spy for the crown and the identity he had was fake. He could marry Claire Abbott for a while.
Nick went straight to his private study and penned a reply. “Please allow me to express my utmost surprise, Ms. Abbott, upon receiving the message. I had reasons to believe that you dislike my company and yet you need to see me soon and in private. Must it be in private? An unmarried lady should not be ‘in private’ with a man – married or unmarried – as it is seen as inappropriate by our ruthless, judgmental society. Nevertheless, since I believe you have heard of our shared fates, I consent to speak with you in private. Meet me at Hyde Park. I will be loitering around the Grand Entrance at around three to four in the afternoon. Can you ride a horse, Ms. Abbott? – Nicholas R.”
He read the whole thing, folded the paper and went downstairs to hand it over to Ms. Abbott’s messenger.
*******
Not to say that he was excited to meet her, but a few minutes before three in the afternoon he was already at Hyde Park wearing a gray vest over white undershirt, riding his horse Nightshade. He wore a black coat over his vest, which matches his trousers, but he wasn’t wearing a hat. He exercised Nightshade as he waited for the lady.
The hosts were very pleased that both the Rochfords and the Abbotts made it to the dinner party. Nicholas, with Claire by his arm, made sure to comment on the delicious meal, the perfection in the manner the plates and utensils were lined out on the table, and even the couple’s choice of furnishings in the room. Flattery was a weapon that he learned was potent when speaking with the highborn lords and ladies.
The pleasantries and goodbyes didn’t last long, and soon enough he was leading Claire away from the scrutiny of the eyes of her peers and into the chilly night of London. However, before they even reached the vehicle, she stopped them both and finally the mask was peeled off her pretty face. She said, “Nicholas- or Nick, whatever you prefer- this is unnecessary. I’m very capable of riding a carriage home by myself and don’t need the pressure of even more polite conversation the entire way. You, on the other hand, should go back inside. I’m not blind, I saw how that red-head looked at you. I think your time would be better spent escorting her home, or any of the other ladies in there. We both know this isn’t going anywhere.”
That was very true, but unlike Claire, Nick thought it rude to speak what was on his mind and risk offending a lady of her standing. After all, he attended social gatherings like that night’s dinner party to gain the confidence of the upper class, because at the end of the day, he needed them to complete the contract he had with the reigning sovereign of England.
Nicholas opened his mouth to argue, but the lady placed a gloved finger to his lips, silencing him. She continued, “What did I say about polite conversation? I don’t want any more of it. Tell your father you escorted me, or that I refused. It doesn’t matter, but that is what I’m doing, Mr. Rochford. Refusing your company. So have a good night. And thank you for making tonight a little less painful than it could have been.”
He quietly waited for her to withdraw her finger. Good for him she shared the same sentiment for he cannot stomach to spend more time with the arrogance of a lady whose virtues were compromised. There was nothing good that would come out of their conversation anyway, and at one point, he feared that they might really start hating each other. Instead of pursuing his counterargument, Nick bowed to acknowledge her decision. “Good night, then Ms. Abbot,” he said then turned on his heels and walked to his own carriage breathing easy, relieved breaths, while the cool breeze ruffled his hair.
******
A bottle of half-filled bottle of Bourbon sat on a round side table like a centerpiece. The light from the few wall scones reflected on its glassy surface, adding illumination to the dimly lit foyer. Nicholas sat with his bottle of Bourbon, though while the drink was on the table, he chose to sit on a leather armchair, while toying on a glass of Bourbon. He stared blankly at a painting of a woman and her dog in a boat. The woman stared back.
And then the main door opened, inviting in the cold of the night.
“Nick, my son,” started Bennett when he saw the younger man sitting by himself in the foyer. He surrendered his coat to the butler that appeared from seemingly nowhere. “I have very pleasant news for you this evening!”
He bet it was hardly worth listening to. Something with the duke made Bennett very excited and it showed at how his face lit up with a sheepish smile. “I have spoken to Lord Abbott,” he said, walking towards Nicholas.
“At length.”
Bennett nodded. “Indeed, we talked at length – him and me – and we were very pleased with the outcome.”
Nick offered the bottle to the old man. He took it and motioned for a glass be brought to him. “I have an idea, but I do hope I am wrong,” he answered. It was the moment of truth. All the time he was staring at the brunette stranger on the painting, he was trying to put the pieces of the events of the night together and there could only be one conclusion. “You want me to marry one of Lord Abbott’s nieces.”
A servant arrived and poured some of the contents of the bottle to Bennett’s glass. He inspected the color with narrowed eyes then turned to his “son” with disturbingly bright eyes. “I need you to marry not just one of the Abbotts, I need you to marry, the heir – Ms. Claire Abbott.”
WHAT?
Nicholas choked on the liquid he was pouring down his throat, coughed, then poured the rest of the content down his mouth. “What are you talking about?”
The pleasantries and goodbyes didn’t last long, and soon enough he was leading Claire away from the scrutiny of the eyes of her peers and into the chilly night of London. However, before they even reached the vehicle, she stopped them both and finally the mask was peeled off her pretty face. She said, “Nicholas- or Nick, whatever you prefer- this is unnecessary. I’m very capable of riding a carriage home by myself and don’t need the pressure of even more polite conversation the entire way. You, on the other hand, should go back inside. I’m not blind, I saw how that red-head looked at you. I think your time would be better spent escorting her home, or any of the other ladies in there. We both know this isn’t going anywhere.”
That was very true, but unlike Claire, Nick thought it rude to speak what was on his mind and risk offending a lady of her standing. After all, he attended social gatherings like that night’s dinner party to gain the confidence of the upper class, because at the end of the day, he needed them to complete the contract he had with the reigning sovereign of England.
Nicholas opened his mouth to argue, but the lady placed a gloved finger to his lips, silencing him. She continued, “What did I say about polite conversation? I don’t want any more of it. Tell your father you escorted me, or that I refused. It doesn’t matter, but that is what I’m doing, Mr. Rochford. Refusing your company. So have a good night. And thank you for making tonight a little less painful than it could have been.”
He quietly waited for her to withdraw her finger. Good for him she shared the same sentiment for he cannot stomach to spend more time with the arrogance of a lady whose virtues were compromised. There was nothing good that would come out of their conversation anyway, and at one point, he feared that they might really start hating each other. Instead of pursuing his counterargument, Nick bowed to acknowledge her decision. “Good night, then Ms. Abbot,” he said then turned on his heels and walked to his own carriage breathing easy, relieved breaths, while the cool breeze ruffled his hair.
******
A bottle of half-filled bottle of Bourbon sat on a round side table like a centerpiece. The light from the few wall scones reflected on its glassy surface, adding illumination to the dimly lit foyer. Nicholas sat with his bottle of Bourbon, though while the drink was on the table, he chose to sit on a leather armchair, while toying on a glass of Bourbon. He stared blankly at a painting of a woman and her dog in a boat. The woman stared back.
And then the main door opened, inviting in the cold of the night.
“Nick, my son,” started Bennett when he saw the younger man sitting by himself in the foyer. He surrendered his coat to the butler that appeared from seemingly nowhere. “I have very pleasant news for you this evening!”
He bet it was hardly worth listening to. Something with the duke made Bennett very excited and it showed at how his face lit up with a sheepish smile. “I have spoken to Lord Abbott,” he said, walking towards Nicholas.
“At length.”
Bennett nodded. “Indeed, we talked at length – him and me – and we were very pleased with the outcome.”
Nick offered the bottle to the old man. He took it and motioned for a glass be brought to him. “I have an idea, but I do hope I am wrong,” he answered. It was the moment of truth. All the time he was staring at the brunette stranger on the painting, he was trying to put the pieces of the events of the night together and there could only be one conclusion. “You want me to marry one of Lord Abbott’s nieces.”
A servant arrived and poured some of the contents of the bottle to Bennett’s glass. He inspected the color with narrowed eyes then turned to his “son” with disturbingly bright eyes. “I need you to marry not just one of the Abbotts, I need you to marry, the heir – Ms. Claire Abbott.”
WHAT?
Nicholas choked on the liquid he was pouring down his throat, coughed, then poured the rest of the content down his mouth. “What are you talking about?”
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