Page 10 of A Bluestocking’s Secret Courtship

“Evangeline is the family scholar,” Xavier said. “My wife is especially close with him for different reasons. The earl raised her and her sisters in a loving home after they were orphaned.”

Jonathan rocked back on his heels. The dossier he’d received mentioned Wedmore was their guardian, but Jonathan had assumed that, as a Regent’s man, the earl’s presence in their lives was limited to rare visits home bearing gifts and entertaining tales from afar. And they would be entertaining. After all, spies were excellent at hiding their clandestine activities.

To hear he’d stepped in to raise three orphaned girls when he could have sent them to boarding school or distant relatives cast him in a different light.

“That is admirable,” Jonathan murmured.

“Oui, and he arranged for his aunt to come live with them so they would have a mother figure.”

Wedmore didn’t sound like a man who would betray his country for profit, not when his family’s future would be endangered. Unless he planned to relocate.

“When did their parents die?” The question slipped from Jonathan before he could stop himself. He didn't want personal details. It would only make his task harder.

“Regina was eight or nine, so Evangeline was seven and Sophia was four.”

“Damnation,” he mumbled. “I was seventeen. I cannot imagine losing parents and being that young.”

He invited Xavier to have a seat before sitting in the matching butter-soft leather chair next to him. Then he steered the conversation toward more neutral ground, asking about their voyage—the weather, port stops, and other mundane topics that didn’t seem to interest either one of them.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps padding against the marble floor outside the study interrupted their conversation.

“The gentlemen are in here, ma’am,” Mr. Wilcox said in his cultured tones.

Jonathan and Xavier stood, anticipating the ladies.

Regina Vistoire appeared in the doorway, looking more refreshed, but she still moved as if her legs were waterlogged. Miss Darlington, by contrast, swept into the room behind her.

“We should go while there is still daylight,” Miss Darlington said. “We might not find our way back in the dark with the way the streets wind. Did you ask Sir Jonathan for directions, Xavier?”

Jonathan blinked. “I thought you wanted me to escort you.”

“We have asked so much of you already, sir.”

“It is my pleasure, Miss Darlington, and I assure you I can find the way back to the villa, even in the dark. There will be no reason to rush your visit with your uncle.”

“How kind of you, Sir Jonathan. If you are certain we aren’t inconveniencing you⁠—”

“Not in the least. Shall we?”

As they left the villa, the setting sun illuminated her golden curls, revealing a hint of red. He offered his arm, his heart racing as she slipped her hand through the crook and rested her fingers on his forearm.

It’s only nerves over the mission, he told himself.

Charles Wedmore had been evading him for many months, and the man's own nieces would be his downfall. Jonathan should have felt triumphant. Instead, an acidic ball burned in the pit of his stomach. His mission was nearing its end, and he wanted to be nothing more than an enthusiastic antiquarian who wasn’t also a spy.

Four

The blue door swung open after the first knock. A servant girl of no more than fourteen stared out with round dark eyes ringed with lush lashes. Evangeline smiled to put her at ease.

“Good afternoon. We are here to call on my uncle, the Earl of Wedmore?”

“No room,” the girl muttered.

Her gaze landed on Xavier, who, with his dark hair and bronze complexion, could pass as one of her countrymen. She spoke to him in her native language, and he shrugged.

“I’m sorry. I do not understand.”

The girl frowned and started to shut the door.