Page 8 of Irresistible
“I have earned the right to do that through years of work and proven capability as well as trustworthiness.” Dougal frowned toward Lady Pickering. “Did you not explain to her how this works? That she must demonstrate the necessary attributes required of this work at all times?”
“I did, but understand that her recruitment is not the same as yours,” Lady Pickering responded coolly. “You can’t expect that she already possesses those skills. She was not in a regiment as you were.”
Dougal had been plucked from the Black Watch. “And you really think a week is enough time to prepare her?” He slid a glance toward Miss Goodfellow. “I mean no offense.”
She did not respond other than to gently purse her lips and wrinkle her nose as if she smelled bad fish.
Lady Pickeringdidrespond. “A week is all we have, so I trust you will ensure it is adequate. I suggest the two of you spend as much time together as possible, without drawing notice, of course. You must be certain your story is believable and consistent.”
“I am confident we can convince everyone that we are in love.” Miss Goodfellow scooted across the cushion until her thigh touched his. She curled her hands around his arm and looked longingly at him.
Dougal hadn’t been prepared. He twitched, pulling his arm from her grasp. Her lips parted and she blinked, her lashes sweeping against her cheeks before her cobalt eyes fixed on him in muted surprise.
“That’s not very convincing,” Lady Pickering muttered.
Lucien abruptly stood. “Dougal has traveled a long way at a difficult time. Let him go home and rest. I’m sure he’ll be up to snuff tomorrow.” He smiled blandly at Lady Pickering and Miss Goodfellow while avoiding looking at Dougal at all.
“To be expected.” Lady Pickering looked at him in sympathy, clearly thinking of his loss. She stood. “Come, Miss Goodfellow. You’ve a busy day tomorrow.”
Miss Goodfellow rose, and Dougal stood beside her. “Good evening, my lord.” She dipped a brief curtsey and trailed Lady Pickering from the study.
“You might have warned me,” he griped.
Lucien held up his hand. “I did try. They unfortunately arrived before I could get it all out.”
“This is a mad scheme,” Dougal grumbled. How could he investigate his failed missions from the Dorset coast? The least they could have done was give him a partner who wasn’t new, someone he could evaluate and subtly query for information about other missions. Someone who could aid him in his investigation. A brand-new investigator was of no help to him at all.
“You’ve engaged in far more dangerous endeavors.”
“But with only myself at risk. This is different. I must ensure her safety while watching my own back. We’ve a single bloody week to get her ready.Thatis the madness.”
“It will be done. We’ve enlisted Evie to help her learn how to disguise herself. There is no one better.”
That much was true. Dougal was one of only a very few people who knew Evangeline Renshaw had completely reinvented herself nearly two years ago. “Is that where I’m to go tomorrow?” At Lucien’s nod, he continued, “What did you tell Evie?” As far as Dougal understood, she was not aware of his—or Lucien’s—involvement with the Foreign Office.
“I told her that a friend, Miss Goodfellow, is going on an independent, secret adventure away from London and needs to pretend to be someone else. She won’t know you are part of it. You and I are simply calling tomorrow since you’re back in town.”
“A coincidence.” In his work, Dougal tried to keep those to a minimum.
Lucien inclined his head. “Just so.” He clapped Dougal on the arm. “Now go home and get some sleep.”
Dougal let out an indiscriminate grunt as he pivoted toward the door. “See you tomorrow.”
As he made his way out to his coach, the weight he’d been carrying in his shoulders seemed to sink through him, pushing him toward the earth. Yes, sleep was required.
He hadn’t been kind to Miss Goodfellow. And that was unlike him. He attributed his ill humor to his exhaustion and the shock of discovering she was to join him, but really—probably—it was the interruption to his investigation. Or the fact that this could be his last mission. The life he’d expected and planned for was not to be. Instead, he would be the Earl of Stirling.
He couldn’t think of that now. Hopefully, this assignment in Dorset would be quick, and Dougal could return to London to uncover the identity of whoever had ruined his missions in the spring.
Then he’d ensure they were brought to justice.
Chapter3
Lady Pickering dropped Jess off at the home of Mrs. Evangeline Renshaw the following day. A friend of Lucien’s and the primary patroness of the Phoenix Club, Mrs. Renshaw would oversee the selection of Jess’s new wardrobe. She would also guide Jess on how to successfully execute a disguise.
Two hours after arriving, Jess was weary of trying on clothing and being pinned to within an inch of her life. She was not, however, closer to understanding why Evie—whom she’d been instructed to call Mrs. Renshaw—was performing this role.
Jess returned to Evie’s elegant drawing room in the clothes she’d worn and collapsed on the settee. Evie was still in the bedchamber they’d used with the modiste. Jess was glad for the moment of solitude.
