"You'll not." Lizzy crossed the room to Kate's armoire. "I only mentioned the mud because it'd be an unpleasant bit of nastiness to fall in."

"It was, rather."

While Kate removed her stockings, Lizzy rummaged about for a clean dress. She was a young woman of average height and build, with dark blonde hair, soft brown eyes, and a round face. A nose that was just a little too long, a mouth that was just a hair too wide, and a chin that was notably pointed kept Lizzy from being a true beauty. But her extraordinary use of those somewhat ordinary features had made her a favorite among staff and family alike at Haldon Hall. Kate had never met a woman with such a remarkable a.s.sortment of facial expressions.

"I can't fathom why you wouldn't let your mother talk you out of this green gown," Lizzy commented from somewhere inside the armoire. "The color makes you look as if you escaped from the undertaker."

Kate rolled her eyes. Lizzy also had a remarkable amount of cheek-not a distinction most ladies of the ton ton would countenance from their abigail, but Kate wouldn't have it any other way. would countenance from their abigail, but Kate wouldn't have it any other way.

Lizzy stepped back from the armoire. "This should do, I think."

Kate took one look at the peach gown her friend held out for her, and sighed yet again. "It's a shame dark colors aren't fashionable for young ladies. We'd have a much easier time of it."

"But fewer excuses to go shopping," Lizzy replied with a grin as she took the stockings from Kate's hand and stuffed them in a pocket of her ap.r.o.n.

"That's true." She accepted the gown and pulled it over her head. Lizzy worked the b.u.t.tons up the back.

"Was there anyone else about?" Lizzy inquired after a moment.

"At the pond, you mean? Yes, unfortunately." Kate winced. "I came across Mr. Hunter on my return."

"Mr. Hunter," Lizzy repeated thoughtfully. "I do wish I could put my finger on why he seems so familiar."

"As do I, but like as not, he simply resembles someone we've both met in pa.s.sing-a shopkeeper in London, perhaps."

"Perhaps. I suspect it'll come to you first." Lizzy fastened the last b.u.t.ton to step around and give Kate a decidedly cheeky smile. "You spend more time looking at him than I do."

"I do nothing of the-"

"And he spends considerable time looking at you."

"I..." Well, yes, there was no arguing that.

"You may as well admit you're curious," Lizzy commented with a shrug. "There's no harm in it."

Without thought, Kate lifted a hand to her cheek. She swore she could still feel the lingering warmth where Mr. Hunter's fingers had brushed along her skin. Perhaps she was was a little curious about him. And Lizzy was right, what harm was there in that? Then again, if memory served, she'd been curious at the age of six as to what would happen if she tried to keep a gra.s.shopper as a pet. a little curious about him. And Lizzy was right, what harm was there in that? Then again, if memory served, she'd been curious at the age of six as to what would happen if she tried to keep a gra.s.shopper as a pet.

She dropped her hand. "Curiosity killed the cat."

It had certainly killed the poor gra.s.shopper.

"Satisfaction brought it back," Lizzy countered. "But they do have nine lives."

A soft knock on the door kept Kate from responding. A young maid entered, carrying a letter in her hands. "A missive for you, Lady Kate."

Kate crossed the room in several quick strides, excitement and nerves fighting for control of her system. She'd been expecting a letter from a London publisher for some time. "Thank you, Alice."

Alice handed her the letter, bobbed a curtsy, and left.

"Which one was this?" Lizzy asked, stepping up to peer over Kate's shoulder.

Kate stared at the sealed paper, biting her lip. "The waltz I composed last summer."

Lizzy bounced on her toes. "Well, go on, then. Open it."

"Right." Marshalling her courage, Kate broke the seal and unfolded the letter. She read the first line and the excitement and nerves quickly turned into the familiar weight of disappointment. "I don't know why I let myself become hopeful," she grumbled, refolding the letter. "It's always no."

"They've no sense," Lizzy said loyally. "They'll never make a go of their business with poor judgment such as that."

They'd been making a go of their business for nearly a half century, but Kate couldn't see the good in pointing that out. "Thank you, Lizzy."

"You'd not have such trouble, if you led them to believe you're a man," Lizzy commented. "Or if you let Lord Thurston put a word in for you. Or you could pay them-"

"I could do all those things," Kate agreed and crossed the room to place the letter in a drawer of her desk, on top of a stack of similarly worded rejections. "But I won't. I want my work to be accepted on its own merit. And I want credit for that success." She scowled at the stack of letters for a moment before turning to Lizzy. "Does that make me dreadfully vain?"

"Not dreadfully dreadfully," Lizzy hedged. "A mite stubborn, though."

Kate reached back to close the desk drawer. "If being a mite stubborn is what it takes, so be it. I'll send out another inquiry tomorrow."

And she would send another inquiry after that, and another after that, and however many it took after that that until she received a satisfactory answer. Seeing her music published and hearing it played in a public venue wasn't her only dream, but it was the only one hard work and perseverance would make come true. until she received a satisfactory answer. Seeing her music published and hearing it played in a public venue wasn't her only dream, but it was the only one hard work and perseverance would make come true.

As the sun set, Hunter settled on a stone bench in a secluded section of Haldon Hall's vast garden. He gave the man sitting on the bench across from him a hard look. "Was it really necessary for me to come here on the last day of a house party?"

He didn't mind visiting Haldon Hall, of course. He just preferred those visits occur in the time and manner of his choosing.

"It was necessary," William Fletcher informed him. "I've a mission for you."

"Why couldn't you give me my orders in London?"

William smiled at him pleasantly. "Because that would have required I go to London when I'd rather stay here."

Hunter snorted and leaned back against the bench. "What's the mission, then?"

"Right." William nodded once. "Lord Brentworth is holding his own house party next week at Pallton House on the coast. I want you to attend."

"To what end?"

"To keep an eye on Lady Kate."

Hunter straightened up. He couldn't have heard that correctly. "I beg your pardon?"

"Interested now, are we?" William chuckled, then wisely continued on in a businesslike manner before Hunter could respond. "It has come to my attention that Brentworth's son, Lord Martin, has decided to try his hand at smuggling. I'm afraid the information my source was able to acquire is rather vague, but there exists the possibility of young Lord Martin using his father's estate as a base of operations. And it is well known that young Lord Martin has a tendre tendre for Lady Kate." for Lady Kate."

"You can't possibly be serious. Lady Kate embroiled in a smuggling operation?" The idea of Kate being connected to a criminal operation was absurd under any circ.u.mstances, but that she would be involved with the foppish Lord Martin was nearly laughable.

"She's not embroiled at present," William explained. "Your job is to make certain she stays that way."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to have Whit or Alex see to her safety?"

William raised a brow. "And have them keep her locked away at Haldon?"

"Does seem the safest course of action." Not necessarily the course he would choose, but certainly the safest.

"In this case, the safest course of action is not the wisest course." William twisted his lips. "If Lady Kate fails to attend the house party so, likely, will her admirer."

"What sort of smuggler ignores his operation in favor of chasing after a woman?" Hunter scoffed.

"The sort that fancies himself in love."

"Idiot." Hunter sat back once more, a sneer firmly set on his face. "We'll have him in under a fortnight."

"Not necessarily," William countered, scratching at his nose. "He's either the venturer or the sole investor or both, but he's hardly the type to dirty his hands unloading cargo on the beach. I highly doubt he would make the trip to the coast at all if there was nothing else there for him. He'd arrange for the goods to be brought to him."

Hunter's lips pressed into an annoyed line. "We won't catch him in the act, then."

"It is unlikely, but with any luck, he'll use his father's house to store the goods, or meet with his cohorts...that sort of thing."

"Lord Brentworth is a suspect as well?"

William shook his head. "I know Brentworth well. The man's not got a thing to do with it." He tapped a knee with his finger. "His leg has been giving him trouble since he took a fall from his horse last year. By his own admission, he hasn't been in the bas.e.m.e.nt of Pallton House in over a year."

Hunter found it difficult to imagine anyone would be bold enough to store smuggled goods right under his father's nose, but then, one never knew with the n.o.bility. They had a tremendous capacity for conceit. "What sort of goods are we in search of?"

William didn't trouble himself over the transport of everyday items. He was, he often remarked, head of the War Department, not an excise man. Hunter had noticed William was more likely to point this out when near a fine bottle of French brandy.

"There will be the usual sort of smuggled items brought over, no doubt, but it's a bit of paperwork we're after," William responded. "I can't provide you with further detail."

Hunter gave him a humorless smile. "Afraid I'll slip back into old habits?"

"If I were worried over you slipping back into old habits, I'd not have you slipping in and out of locked doors, would I? You were a thief longer than you were a smuggler."

He'd been better at it too. "You've no proof of that."

"Don't need it, do I?" William asked with a smile before waving his hand dismissively. "I can't provide you with further details because I haven't any. As I said, the information I've acquired is vague. It's possible we'll not find anything beyond a bit of brandy." William shrugged. "Acquiring paperwork isn't your objective at any rate. I've decided to task another agent with that matter. There's a London connection for him to explore, and he'll take primary control of the investigation at Pallton House after that."

"While I play nursemaid." In truth, Hunter had no intention of limiting his role to nursemaid, but he saw no reason to advertise as much to William with an easy capitulation.

William raised his eyebrows. "Would you prefer the alternative?"

The alternative, unfortunately, was to stand trial for his own ill-fated foray into smuggling almost seven years ago. Apparently, that time round, William's source hadn't been at all vague on what sort of paperwork was to be found among the harmless crates and barrels. "I prefer my neck the length it is, thank you."

William gave him a disgustingly patronizing smile. "Cheer up, Hunter. Another six months and your obligations will be met. Out before you're thirty, eh? And perhaps the prince will see fit to grant you something extra for your service. Wouldn't you like to be a baron?"

A corner of his mouth hooked up. "Prinny can keep his t.i.tles."

"I rather thought you aspired to be a member of the elite."

"I aspire to wealth," he corrected, "and what it can acquire."

"It can't acquire happiness," William pointed out.

"True, but insufficient amounts of it will certainly afford a man a great deal of misery." Cold, hunger, and loneliness came to mind.

William brushed his hands along his thighs and rose from his seat. "Well, then, if having coin and what it can can acquire is what you seek. I would venture to say you are a success." acquire is what you seek. I would venture to say you are a success."

He would be, Hunter mused. There was just one more acquisition to make.

CHAPTER Three

It came as a surprise to no one that the dowager Lady Thurston's ball turned out to be an unqualified success. Particularly not to Kate, who'd been privy to the extensive preparations and attention to detail-or minutiae, to hear her brother tell it-the event had received. According to her mother, there were but three things a lady need worry herself over: the children she loved, the charities she supported, and the parties she threw. Kate had been tempted to ask where husbands fit in, but knew better. Her parents' union had not been a love match. It had been civil and grounded in some level of affection, but not a love match. In the end, that had probably been best, as her father had died some years ago in a duel over a woman who was not not his wife. his wife.

Her mother's ball, however, was not the time or place to dwell on unhappy memories. It was supposed supposed to be the time and place a young unmarried lady paid attention to the young unmarried gentlemen in attendance. Particularly if they happened to be gathered about her chair in the corner of the ballroom. to be the time and place a young unmarried lady paid attention to the young unmarried gentlemen in attendance. Particularly if they happened to be gathered about her chair in the corner of the ballroom.

"What say you, Lady Kate? Red or Green?"

She hadn't been paying attention. "Er, green."

Two of the young gentlemen said something akin to "ah-ha!" Another groaned in defeat, and the last gentleman, who really wasn't all that young, chuckled and slapped the back of one of the victors.

"Um..." She rose from her chair. "Do excuse me. I...I need some refreshment."

She walked away swiftly, wondering if she would ever learn what sort of opinion she'd just expressed by saying "green," and made her way across the room. From the corner of her eye, she saw another gentleman start toward her, hesitate when he saw the direction she was headed, and then quickly back away when she reached her destination.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling and quietly hummed along to the tune the musicians were playing. Her little ruse never failed. Whenever she wished for a little peace from her suitors all she needed to do was stand next to the refreshment table.

She was not, it would seem, to be trusted with food.

Kate stifled a snort and reached for a gla.s.s of lemonade. No wonder she'd not fallen in love with any of the men who courted her. They would never risk their lives to save her from a runaway mount. They wouldn't even risk their cravats to speak with her.

She might have thought on that a bit longer, but she was distracted by the rare sight of her cousin, Mrs. Evie McAlistair, engaged in a dance with her husband. Now there there, Kate thought with a sigh, was a love match. The sort she dreamed of finding with her own handsome prince.

"Lady Kate, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

Kate jumped at the deep male voice, sloshing the lemonade in her gla.s.s onto the skirts of her blue silk gown. "Oh, bother."

Mr. Hunter stepped around from behind her and produced a handkerchief from his pocket. She nearly told him she didn't need it-she had enough sense to bring her own-but she bit back the sharp retort. Being rude to the man only seemed to encourage him. And reason dictated that if he pursued her merely for the fun of ruffling her feathers, she need only stop stop allowing her feathers to be ruffled and he would lose interest and let her alone. allowing her feathers to be ruffled and he would lose interest and let her alone.