“Later I learned she was jealous that the Queen seemed to favor me because Beatrix also wantedthe position of queen’s dresser. I was mortified by the gossip and devastated that my trust had been misplaced. Naturally someone associated with such scandal, a young woman who would bear a child out of wedlock, can’t be in the proximity of the Queen. Miss Skerrett told me that I was to be dismissed. My mother was sent for. She was furious that I’d brought her and her husband shame. I told them I’d lain with no man. Miss Skerrett suggested I be examined by a physician, but my mother would not allow it, fearing the rumors being bandied wildly about would be proven true and cause further embarrassment. I was sent home, where I was locked in my room for refusing to divulge the identity of the man with whom I’d fornicated. Fortunately, Beatrix had kept the name of the palace guard to herself, no doubt because he could have confirmed that she was lying. My mother and stepfather were contemplating my future. Should I be sent to a nunnery or workhouse? Should I be turned out? I think they were leaning toward the last, just have me pack my bags and make my own way. I was so frightened. Whenever my father spoke about bad people in the world, I envisioned them with swords and rifles. But words can be effective weapons. They nearly destroyed me.”
He thought of the harsh words he’d used against her in the beginning, before he’d truly known her, and he felt as though his heart was being flayed. “Esme, the unkind things I said, directed your way—they were born out of an anger with my father, not with you.”
He wished her soft smile wasn’t so tranquil and reflected such understanding. “I’m not such a delicate creature now, Marcus.”
The pain he was experiencing intensified. She’d suffered through a scandal not of her making and had come through stronger on the other side. How had she managed it? “You told me once that Queen Victoria believed you when no one else would.”
She nodded. “Yes. I hadn’t told her about the rumors or the strange happenings in my body because you don’t bother a monarch with trivial matters—”
“They weren’t trivial. You were being treated unjustly.” Which he happened to know a little something about.
“As it turns out she agreed with you. I suppose when I was no longer about Miss Skerrett had been forced to explain my absence and told her that I’d been dismissed, and the Queen wanted to know the reason for it. I’d been home only a few days when she showed up at our door. She demanded the truth and so I told her that I didn’t know why my belly was swelling or I felt poorly. She insisted I be examined by one of her physicians. And well, you certainly don’t deny the Queen’s command.”
As she took several more sips of her wine, he waited, desperate to know the whole of the tale, yet dreading where it might go. Placing the glass in her lap, she intertwined her fingers and folded them around the stem. He wished he’d takenhold of them before she’d given them a purpose, and yet perhaps the telling required she maintain some distance. She cleared her throat. “She has several physicians. Dr. Graves was the one who saw to me. A kinder, gentler man I’ve never known. He deduced I was not in fact with child, but there was a growth. It had to be cut out, and in the removing of it . . . well, part of me had to go as well. The part that would have borne children.”
Feeling as though he’d taken a punch to the gut, he sat up abruptly. “Esme—”
“It’s all right,” she said, although her smile revealed the lie. “Don’t look so devastated. It was a while ago. I’ve accepted my limitations. It took me a little over a year to recover. My mother lamented that no man would have me now that I could no longer bear children. The Queen wanted me back in her household, offered me my choice of positions.” She shook her head. “But I had no desire to go back there, to be among those servants who’d believed the worst of me. My condition was not something to be spoken about because we don’t discuss our bodies, do we? We act as though they are something about which to be ashamed rather than celebrated. We certainly don’t mention surgeries that involve such a personal part of our anatomy. Even if I dared do such a thing, people were unlikely to believe me. No, Beatrix had ensured they’d believe the worst, and they’d continue to do so. They’d be convinced I’d either lost the child or birthed him and given him up.Scandal is so much more titillating than truth. So I couldn’t bring myself to return to a place with memories of such ugliness.
“However, neither could I abandon Victoria, the one woman who believed me and saw me spared a slow and horrendous death from disease. While I was at the palace, serving her, I had an occasion to meet the Home Secretary, quite by accident. We crossed paths in the hallway, and he introduced himself. I paid him a visit, told him I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps and be of service to the Crown. The army wouldn’t have me. Perhaps he would. I explained that I would have great success at gathering information that might be needed because men don’t see women as a threat and thus would trust me more easily. I could use my womanly wiles to coerce confidences because men like nothing better than to boast about their exploits to a woman who can do them no harm. He was rather intrigued by the notion. We spent two days talking about the possibilities and how I would operate. And then he hired me.”
“To seduce men.”
“To be honest, I gather most of my information from women.”
“You seduce women?” He’d like to watch that.
As though she’d read his thoughts, she gave him a small teasing smile. “Not in the manner that you’re no doubt imagining. I simply befriend them. As Beatrix taught me, people are not good at keeping secrets. They like for others to know that they have information they don’t. Men tend toboast to their wives or the women they’re stepping out with when they’re on the verge of doing something they believe makes them appear interesting or bold or not like the others. Often I’m tasked with determining who they might have told and then lending a sympathetic ear.
“A few years ago, a moneybox being transported by railway was stolen. All evidence pointed to Peter Anderson. But when they arrested him, he denied it, naturally. And he most certainly wouldn’t tell them where he’d hidden the money. But he might have told his wife. I took a room at a boardinghouse near their home and ensured our paths crossed often. She had few friends, especially after her husband was accused of theft. But I was incredibly compassionate toward her plight, myself being the wife of a convicted forger, after all.”
He grinned. “You’re like an actress, taking on different roles.”
“Quite. The key is to be relatable to their circumstances. If they’re lonely, I offer them friendship. Sad, I offer them comfort. Mortified, I offer them understanding. I’ve always been where they are. Eventually they trust me and tell me what I need to know.” She released a quick burst of air. “At which point usually they’re arrested and convicted as an accomplice.”
“Do you feel guilty about turning on them?”
“I’m a heartless harlot.” She shook her head. “Oh, I might have felt a twinge of regret, especially if I really came to like the person, butthey’ve broken the law. Who is to say they won’t do it again or something worse? Deep down they aren’t good people. The situation with your father is the first time I’ve taken on the role of mistress, and that’s only because he identified me as such. As I’ve told you, our relationship never went that far. I draw the line at my bedchamber door.”
“Always?”
“Always. To do otherwise would compromise me and the information I gather.”
“Not all your assignments are as docile as the one involving Mrs. Anderson or you’d not have those scars.”
“No, but the Home Secretary ensured I was prepared for difficulties. He sent me to the instructors who trained his other agents. I was taught how to fight and use various weapons. I was provided with all sorts of gadgets. They found I was well suited to the tasks given me. Except for this last one, I’ve always had success and achieved my goal quickly. And I rather enjoy it. It’s much more exciting than ensuring the Queen’s wardrobe is in order or rubbing liniment on her knees when they’re aching. I should be grateful to Beatrix, I suppose, for showing me there is an ugliness in some people that is easily masked. So now I’m always trying to peer beneath the mask.”
“And what do you see when you peer beneath mine?”
“Someone I like far more than I expected. I wish fate had been kinder to you.”
He was beginning to resent his journey less. If not for his father’s actions, he’d never have come to spend time in the company of this remarkable woman. Reaching out, grateful when she didn’t move back but simply held still, he cupped her chin in the palm of his hand and stroked his thumb along the soft skin below her jaw. “I’m terribly sorry you experienced all that hellaciousness at court, the betrayal and what followed. But Britain is lucky to have you. Your father would be proud, I think.”
A light pink tinged her cheeks. “Thank you for that.”
He considered kissing her, here on this little knoll, and he might have if she hadn’t moved back slightly so he no longer touched her. She lifted the bottle of wine. “We should finish this off and then head back to the residence. After baring my soul, I could use some time in my chamber of solitude. Perhaps you’d do me the service of going a round or two with me in the ring.”
“Don’t expect any mercy.”
