Page 1 of Swindled By a Spinster
CHAPTER ONE
The chatter of his peers within the confined walls of Brooks’ Great Subscription Room exacerbated the throbbing in Torrance Glenmore, Baron Kilman’s head. With little to no sleep for the past fortnight after placing his best friend and confidant, Lady Phoebe Peters, in the care of another, Torrance wished he’d never agreed to return to London without Phoebe. To escape the monotony of pacing the length of his study, Torrance had ventured out to his gentleman’s club in hopes of seeking solace amongst his fellow peers. However, rather than banishing all thoughts of Phoebe and her two younger cohorts, Lady Lillian and Lady Ruth, he was subjected to the absurd hearsay of his peers. The stories as to why the trio had gone missing for a fortnight ranged from the ridiculous to the scorchingly scandalous that even his jaded ears burned red. The truth of the matter, unbeknownst to most, was that the women had taken it upon themselves to track down a group of bandits, retrieved jewels belonging to the Royal Treasury, and had narrowly managed to escape the thieves. His blood boiled at the reminder that Phoebe had put herself in danger and he hadn’t been close by. Or perhaps his foul mood was due to the fact that he had been utterly clueless, so self-absorbed in his ownaffairs he hadn’t noticed the woman was investigating matters on her own. Eyes closed and fingers pressed tightly against his temples, he tried to block out the shouted wagers speculating on what the three women had been up to while traipsing about England.
“Lord Kilman.”
Torrance jumped to his feet and stood at attention as he recognized the deep, authoritative voice of Lord Archbroke, his superior and Head of the Home Office.
The man who had basically orchestrated Torrance’s life for the past decade scanned the room and said, “Follow me.”
Without hesitation or question, Torrance trailed behind Lord Archbroke who had been his protector, leader, and close friend ever since their days at Eton. Archbroke was not only a genius, but the man possessed the innate ability to act with authority and purpose that few could resist.
As they strode through the halls of Brooks’, Archbroke greeted their peers with a smile that Torrance knew all too well hid the man’s true emotional state. Having studied Archbroke over the years, he’d learned the brighter his superior’s smile, the more likely it was that Torrance was about to receive an earful. In Archbroke’s capacity as the Head of the Home Office, he almost certainly had more than a few words to say about the outcome of Torrence’s actions.
Stepping out the front doors of Brooks’, Torrance blinked multiple times to block out the bright rays of sun beating down on him. He shuffled closer behind Archbroke and descended the steps dutifully in the man’s shadow as they marched down the crowded path of Bond Street.
His heart began to race. Archbroke, who was always short on time, was setting a rather sedate pace. What was his superior, the master of stratagems, thinking? Archbroke side-stepped into an alley and tugged Torrence along with him.
Eyes ablaze with irritation, Archbroke stood with both hands firmly placed on his hips and said, “I have it on good authority that your informant of nearlysix yearsdecided to take action on her own rather than passing along key information to you in a timely manner.” Archbroke’s chin dropped to his chest. “I should have ordered you to cease seeking out the woman’s assistance years ago when it was evident that Lady P was bound to act rashly sooner or later.”
“Lady P may have broken protocol, but she acted with no ill intent.” Desperate to maintain his secret relationship with Lady Phoebe, Torrance placed a hand on Archbroke’s shoulder. “She’s been a reliable source for years, she’s assisted in gathering important data for countless missions. One mistake should not…”
Archbroke shrugged off his hand and said, “One mistake? If only that were the case. You and I both know that Lady P has continuously pushed the limits of my patience and goodwill. I shall no longer grant you the latitude I have in the past. You are forbidden from involving Lady P in any future matters involving the Home Office…do I make myself clear?”
Faced with the prospect of losing his excuse to lure Phoebe out into the gardens, to conspire to meet in a secluded corner of Hyde Park, or to draw her into a dark alcove at a ball, Torrance clasped his sweaty gloved hands behind his back replied, “If that is your stance on the matter, then you leave me no choice but to resign from my post.”
Archbroke’s expression remained stoic as he asked, “Are you certain you wish to no longer be an agent for the Home Office?”
“If I must choose between Lady P and the agency, then I opt for the former.” He had no alternative—somehow, some way, over the years he’d fallen in love with Phoebe. The realization that he was becoming rather long in the tooth andthe recent threat of never seeing Phoebe again had forced him to acknowledge his affection for the willful woman.
“Very well. I accept your resignation and wish you and Lady P all the best.”
Bewildered, Torrance watched the man who had been his superior for a decade walk away without a second glance.
What next? Having always been tasked with a mission or errands for the man whose back was slowly disappearing from sight, Torrance rocked as if he was a boat set adrift.
What in the blazes had he done? He’d followed his heart. He couldn’t imagine not interacting with Phoebe on a daily basis. And he wished to be more than associates—he wanted Phoebe to be his wife.
CHAPTER TWO
With her trusty parasol in hand, Phoebe walked next to Ruth, who was attempting to portray the image of a lady without a care in the world when in fact her friend was strung tighter than a violin. Ever since their return to London, Ruth had been notably on edge at all times.
Phoebe glanced at Ruth and asked, “Are you still experiencing nightmares?”
“Not of late.” Ruth’s fan fluttered.
Her friend’s less than confident response had Phoebe staring at Ruth’s hand, which shook like a leaf. Confronting a band of thieves was not for the faint of heart, and it was definitely not for the likes of a sweet, innocent young lady like Ruth.
Arrogant to a fault in her own abilities, Phoebe had allowed two renowned wallflowers to accompany her on a dangerous mission. Regardless of the favorable outcome, what she should have done and what occurred were two entirely different matters and she deeply regretted her actions.
Phoebe slowly raised her lace parasol and opened it, giving them a brief moment of privacy. “I hope someday you and Lillian will be able to forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” Wide eyed, Ruth turned to face Phoebe. “Whatever for? If we had been more careful… If we hadn’t ventured out on our own… If you hadn’t followed us… If you hadn’t intervened, Lillian and I could have— Well…we would have been at the mercy of those brutes and quite possibly never have seen our families again.”
Mindlessly Phoebe twirled the handle of her parasol back and forth between fingers as a shiver rolled down her spine. Egad! She stilled her movements. If Kilman were anywhere within plain sight, the blasted Home Office agent would have already descended upon them. How could she have been so careless? She knew better than to employ signals without cause. With a flutter of a fan or the twirl of her parasol, Phoebe could summon Kilman if in need. Thankfully the gentleman hadn’t dared to come within five feet of her since their return to London.
The sudden ache deep in her chest had her gasping for a breath. She edged over to the side of the path and stopped to regain her composure. Ruth continued forward until she noted Phoebe’s absence.
With her brows knitted into a frown, Ruth turned around and then retraced her steps to join Phoebe once more. “Is something the matter?”
