Crack! The billiard ball struck another then rolled across the table. Gabe could only muster a grim smile at his excellent shot.
“Why so morose this morning, Spencer?” Lord Pondridge said before throwing back another two fingers of brandy.
“I’ll wager it was a woman.” Lord Sheffield laughed, his extra chin jiggling. “Miss White held out on you last night, eh? That woman…” he sighed. “She has a way of bewitching a man.”
“Indeed, she does,” Pondridge replied. “Why not avail yourself of the other ladies in residence, Spencer, and let one of the fellows here have a go at Miss White. They’re all eager enough.” He grinned.
“I’ll second that!” Lord Hale said from his position by the fireplace as he tugged on the bell pull.
Gabe’s jaw tightened and his stomach churned. Even while playing billiards with other, potentially traitorous men, he could not escape Mary and his disturbing experience of last evening.
“I’ve already promised Miss White to Reddington and Boxton for this evening,” he said. “You gentlemen will have to wait your turn.”
“Lucky bastards,” Sheffield wheezed.
A nervous-looking maid appeared in the doorway.
“Ah yes, there you are,” Hale boomed. “Have one of my footmen come here at once.”
The maid curtsied, and with a mumbled “right away your lordship,” she was gone.
“Small maids in this house,” Hale grumbled. “No good for anything; can’t even take a man my size atop them.”
“Aye,” Sheffield pulled a cigar out of his waistcoat’s breast pocket. “If you can’t tup them, what’s the point?”
“Of course, if they’ve got a big mouth…” Hale wiggled his eyebrows and the three men laughed.
Gabe felt ill.
“You called for me, your lordship?”
Gabe looked up to see Sir Bramwell Stevens standing in the doorway, wearing Hale’s vomitus green livery and a powdered wig.
“Yes, Smithe. Have my horse saddled, will you? I have the urge to ride.”
Stevens bowed. “Right away, my lord.”
Gabe bent to take his turn at billiards, hardly noticing where the balls ended up. He needed to speak with Stevens to tell him what he had overheard last night. If something were to happen to him or Mary while he was exchanging the documents or while they were on their return journey to London, someone needed to pass the information along to Hydra.
Soon enough, Mary would come up with a distraction and Gabe would make the exchange. Until then, he must wait, and what better to do while waiting than speak with his comrade.
“Please excuse me, gentlemen,” Gabe bowed to the room.
“Off to see if you can repair whatever damage you did last night, eh?” Pondridge grinned.
Gabe returned his grin and added a wink before he made his escape.
* * *
Mary’s halfboots crunched over the gravel as she walked along the garden’s path. The sun shone brightly in the early June morn, birds chirped gaily, and the flowers were open, lending a fragrant, floral scent to the air.
She’d spoken to Lord and Lady Kerr’s gardener, but aside from the fact that the Kerrs preferred their flowers arranged a particular way and they had a short temper with their staff, Mary had not learned anything. After that brief discussion, Mary had ventured over several hills until she’d reached the castle ruins that Lady Kerr had informed Gabriel about.
Despite her curiosity, Mary did not venture inside, but turned and made her way back to Kerr house. The afternoon meal would soon be served, and shortly thereafter, Mary would put on her second performance. She just hoped that they made the exchange before she was forced to fend off Reddington and Boxton’s advances.
A frown caught her by surprise as her thoughts wandered again toward Gabriel. He would surely not approve of her wandering across the estate and questioning the gardener on her own.
But Gabriel was not here. In fact, she very much doubted that she would see him for the entirety of the day, until they made good their escape from the Kerr estate.
Mary turned her face up to the sun, taking delight in the warmth she found there. Her father would adore this garden; he had always enjoyed plants.
She tsked herself. There she went thinking of her father again and making herself maudlin. Perhaps she should visit him soon.
The crunch of gravel beneath feet and voices sounded down the path. Mary mentally cringed as she rounded a tall bit of shrubbery.
“I saw her coming along this path, but perhaps—oh!” Boxton led both Sheffield and Reddington down the path toward her. His face was wreathed in smiles, but his eyes held the threat of a predator.
Mary smiled cautiously at the three men. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
Lord Sheffield puffed on a cigarillo, blowing the smoke at her then leering with the others. “I’ve been informed by these two fine fellows that you will be giving them a private performance this evening.”
So she had been informed. Damn Gabriel for making such promises.
“I have come to express my…eternal envy for their luck.”
Mary put aside the alarm spreading through her chest at Boxton’s and Reddington’s unwavering lustful gazes and gave Sheffield a coquettish grin and batted her eyes.
“Why Lord Sheffield, you sly flatterer. You know just what to say to charm a woman.”
Sheffield positively beamed with pride. “I have enchanted a few skirts in my day.” He took another puff of his cigarillo. “At the others’ insistence, I must beg another group performance. Perhaps after luncheon?”
Mary flashed them a gleaming smile. That was precisely what she had hoped they would ask. “Why Lord Sheffield, I would be honoured to perform for you again.”
Boxton stepped forward, moving with the agile grace of a cat, both deadly and deceitful. “You understand, Mary, that this request for a performance stands individually from the private encounter promised to Reddington and myself.”
Impertinent blackguard. “Naturally, Tony. I wouldn’t dream of reneging on our interlude.” She winked at him.
That seemed to mollify Lord Boxton.
“Now wait just a moment,” Reddington cut in, his troublingly eager gaze roaming heatedly over her. “We all have a moment here, why not give us that private performance now?”
The other men began to agree and panic sprang to Mary’s chest. “Now, now, gentlemen. Surely you would not wish me to perform without my costume. I—”
“As a matter of fact,” Boxton sneered, “that is precisely how I would like to see you.”
Her heart tripped over in her chest. Please let her get out of this without having to resort to violence! “I am afraid, Tony, that you will just have to wait until this evening. Now if you fine gentlemen would excuse me, I must prepare my costume.”
She skirted around them on the path, hoping beyond hope that they would not stop her.