Page 26 of Beauty and the Thief

“That’s precisely why we must cultivate one. Will you sit?” He indicated the couch. Bridget took a seat, and Tattle sat across from her on the settee. She didn’t know how old Mr. Tattle was—sixty? seventy?—but she had known him as long as she had known Baron. All of the instructors were trusted men, many of whom had once been operatives. She couldn’t quite picture Tattle as an operative. He was so thin and frail looking. His high forehead was crowned with wispy white hair and his brown eyes were large behind spectacles. Tattle folded his hands in his lap and smiled at her. Bridget waited.

And waited.

Finally, she cleared her throat. “Is there something I’ve forgotten?”

“No, no, Miss Murray. I am simply waiting until we are all present.”

“We’re not all present?” She glanced at the door behind her. Who could they—and then she all but groaned because she knew. They must be waiting on Callahan Kelly. And of course, the man was tardy. She disliked tardiness excessively, but she wouldn’t complain today. “I could come back at another time,” she said, rising. “You and I could meet alone this afternoon.” She edged out of the grouping of furniture and toward the door.

“I’m certain it will be only another moment, Miss Murray.”

“Oh, but I don’t want to waste your time, sir.” She opened the door to the classroom and stepped back as Callahan Kelly smiled down at her.

“The lovely Miss Murray, so it is.”

“I was just leaving, Mr. Kelly.”

He moved aside. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“Actually, Miss Murray,” Mr. Tattle called. “Mr. Kelly is the man we’re waiting for. Mr. Kelly, Miss Murray, do come and sit down.”

Bridget glared at Kelly before turning back to Mr. Tattle and returning to her seat.

“What was that for?” he asked, coming to sit beside her on the couch. “Sure and I didn’t do anything.”

The gall of the man! He could have chosen any seat, and he took the cushion beside her. She tried to ignore him, settling herself on her seat to give Tattle her full attention. She didn’t have a choice about being here, but if she cooperated, perhaps she wouldn’t have to stay long.

“Mr. Kelly has offered his services as an expert in the Irish accent and dialect. I understand you have been helpful in training our agents in a few of the more unconventional techniques as well. Thank you for coming, Mr. Kelly.”

“No, thank you for asking me, Mr. Tattle. I wasn’t looking forward to the firing range. Is it Miss Murray who needs help with her Irish accent?”

She couldn’t stop herself from being slightly impressed. It was as though the late night conversation with Baron had never happened. Mr. Kelly behaved as though he was completely unaware of why either of them were here.

“It is, Mr. Kelly. I can certainly tutor her, but I thought having an authentic speaker here would be even more valuable. Do you think you can help?”

Kelly gave her a dubious look that made her bristle with indignation. “I can try,” he said.

“Good. Miss Murray, can you speak with an Irish accent at all?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

Kelly let out a laugh. “And here all these years I’ve been trying to sound English. Now you have to sound Irish.”

Tattle ignored him. “Say something, Miss Murray. Perhaps you have a natural ability.”

Bridget’s mind went blank. She had no idea what to say. “Uh, top o’ the morning to you.”

Kelly groaned and put his head down on the arm of the couch.

She straightened, her cheeks heating furiously. “Was it bad?”

“Just rather trite, Miss Murray,” Tattle told her. “It might be best if we start with a few rules. First of all, you’ll want to soften your vowels. It’s not Ireland, but Oireland. You try it, Miss Murray.”

She swallowed. “Ireland. I-Ireland.”

“Not bad.”

But Kelly shook his head, angling his body to face her. “Not good either. You have to bring the sound forward.”

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