Chapter 23

Devorlane eased into the frayed maroon armchair, the most comfortable by far of all the chairs in the library, even if it did sag in the middle.
"A straight answer, my boy, would be appreciated." Lord Koorecroft had assumed the chair opposite. Now he set his cane to the side. "After all, I know Colonel Caruthers regards you as suitable spying material. He told me."
Maybe he did. Why the blazes should he do any more for the damned country with his leg in this state though, just because he spoke a little French and slept with anything? When Chessington should have been a pleasure palace by now? And this damned old fool was here to plague him? Christ he was in a bad enough way already.
"I said I would think it over. But this damnable wound ... detained me." He edged his leg into a more comfortable position. "Then Ardent passed away."
"It's just ... if you say you are not, then clearly you are not."
Not what? He let his gaze stray to the brandy decanter resplendent on the mahogany table. Ardent passing away, or not, had nothing to do with the thirst that filled him to quaff the contents, with opium. What he had swallowed after dinner was insufficient to dull what throbbed not just in his leg but in the very bone. But Christ, suitable spying material? Imagine being let loose on the French-their women anyway-when already he was so damned addicted to sex, he wanted some specimen who had ruined him? He must be needing help. How else to explain it? He grimaced.
"I'm not."
Lord Koorecroft frowned. "Very well. It still requires me to ask a very unpleasant question."
As the old duffer had that Christmas Eve.
"Go on." Devorlane reached across the gleaming table top.
"What was you doing at Lady Armstrong's window?"
Devorlane almost dropped the decanter. It was obvious what he was doing. Watching her when she didn't have on any clothes. But he wasn't going to admit she didn't have any on and he was watching, because that would make him seem even more damned unwholesome than he obviously was already. "She told you this, I suppose?"
He bet she didn't tell old Koorecroft she was Sapphire though. Oh no. That would be putting her pretty head in the noose.
"She told me she found you in her damned bedroom and that she felt forced to kiss you."
The amber liquid gleamed in the glass. Devorlane stared at it for an instant, trying to swallow the sneakiness of that behavior, then he lifted his gaze. He owed her nothing. It was time this was in the open. After all, Lord Koorecroft knew such a woman existed. Think of the hornet's nest it would kick if she was found right here on his patch. How good that would look for the old duffer in the eyes of the country. Something to take everyone's minds off the war. "And did she tell you why?"
How incredible to say this after all these years. Of course he had no concrete proof. That the damned vixen had gone to Lord Koorecroft with her fanciful tale of woe, after kissing him like that, was good enough though. To think he had imagined her attractive. Especially when she had no clothes on and stood in that copper tub, an exotic blur. But now? Now? The sneaky damned snit brought this on herself. So now she could damn well take what was coming to her.
He raised the glass to his lips. A private, fortifying toast. "Well?"
"Indeed. She did. She said it was in defense of the realm."
Devorlane thanked God he hadn't actually taken a sip. Then amber droplets might spatter his embroidered waistcoat. The cheek of this damned snit. The conniving brilliance too. "From what? A decorated military wolf at her door?"
"Be serious, man. Do you think that's funny?"
So far as Devorlane knew, he didn't. Lord Koorecroft had this questing, disgusted way of looking though, doubtless honed by long years in court, as if he had just planked his sacred foot down in horseshit. And, as if that was not bad enough, clearly it was all Devorlane's fault. He looked like that now. It made it hard for Devorlane to suppress what curled his lips or the half chuckle that issued from between them. "I think it's preposterous."
"Lady Armstrong came to me, and now I see she was fully justified in doing so if this is your response."
It was, wasn't it? Preposterous and his response. Did the old goat but know the truth of who he had on his patch, he wouldn't fulminate like this. Certainly he wouldn't fulminate at him. That same goat would have the four members of this little ring up before the bench faster than he could say "good."
Lord Koorecroft sat forward. Obviously the books had ears and it was vital neither they, nor the shelves they sat on, heard what he had to say. "May I remind you that the circumstances of your removal from Chessington all those years ago warrant-"
"Here's the thing about those years and dear Mrs. Armstrong, Your Grace." He sank the remains of the glass. Then he filled another. He would need to fortify himself for what he was about to say at long damned last.
"She is dear Mrs. to you here only," Lord Koorecroft snapped. "Her husband is a former spy, sir, and dying, and entitled to more than you tomcatting through her shrubbery, putting her in such fear for their lives, she felt obliged to act as she did."
Fear for their lives? Act as she did? Now Devorlane did splatter, not just down the front of his waistcoat, but Lord Koorecroft's too. Lord Koorecroft didn't look pleased. In fact, in addition to looking as if he had been splattered upon, he looked fit to burst with indignation. Although it was empty of sound for a second or so he glanced at his waistcoat then back at Devorlane, his mouth worked furiously. Another outrage to add to the long growing list of those Devorlane was already guilty of?
"You kissed that damned girl, did you not, all these years ago? That blasted one you claimed was that damnable thief, Sapphire?"
"Hardly a contagion. But yes, you're perfectly correct there." He passed the back of his hand across his mouth. "And actually, you have no idea how right I-"
"And you have kissed women since."
"I think the worry would be if I kissed men."
"You can kiss a horse's backside for all I care, sir, so long as you leave the damned woman alone. Are we agreed on that? Must I take the matter further?"
There was nowhere the old coot could take it, it hadn't been taken already. But astonishment flared along his veins. A spy? Dear Elgie was a spy?
Envy for her breathtaking, her stunning, ability to undermine him, encased his heartbeat. So even now he sat here, the rug pulled from beneath him, if only for the second the thought pulsed across his raddled senses.
It wouldn't be the first or the last time such a thing happened. Elgie being a spy that was. Her too. Despite what they were, it wouldn't be anything unusual at all. The military would welcome their talent for stealing and disguise. Their ability to housebreak, especially at a time like this when a war needed to be won by fair means or foul. At any cost. Even if that cost was agreeing to a pardon, or a reduced sentence, whatever deal may have been struck. After all, nothing had been heard of Sapphire for months.
As for him? What he did about this if she was a spy?
He sighed. He sighed deeply in advance of not slamming his foot down on the floor, the sheer exasperation that swamped. Damn fine he'd look now saying she was Sapphire. Perhaps he was a peer of the realm, but he was a thief. A drink-befuddled thief with a taste for opiates.
Maybe he didn't want to think so, but he was a thief because men like Koorecroft said so. And he'd been bundled into the army to hush the scandal. He'd only to cut his glance sideways to see this room was but a dog-eared picture of what it had been before he went away.
It was as if the damned woman knew and had played this to her satisfaction. Knew orders were what he'd learned the hard way to adhere to. Knew he was only a peer of the realm because Ardent had died. The only imperfect thing the perfect paragon had ever done in his whole damned life. Take the matter further? Devorlane set the glass down on the table.
"No. You needn't."
What could he do about it after all, right here right now, while there was a war on? Look like a traitor next? If he spoke up he would. But he wasn't done with this. Lord Koorecroft was making a huge mistake to think he was. Not when Devorlane was just as well acquainted with Colonel Caruthers. Not when he was the one who had made Devorlane the offer to act as a spy.
Never mind Lord Koorecroft. Sapphire would be a damn fool to think it.