“I don’t have time,” Simone stated. “And I can’t wait around and do nothing.”
“We could send a footman with an urgent message to his townhouse,” Felicity suggested. “That would be less scandalous than what you are attempting to do.”
Simone shook her head. “Even if Caleb got the message, it isn’t as if we could speak freely here. Two French spies are residing under our roof and they know about me and Caleb.”
“What do they know?” Felicity asked.
“That we are spies,” Simone replied.
Felicity’s hand stilled on the buttons. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Simone said. “But I’m hoping Caleb will have an idea or two.” Which was the truth. She needed Caleb, now more than ever. Which was an odd thing to admit to herself because she had never needed anyone before.
Caleb sat in White’s as he sipped his drink. He was listening to Roswell and Fredrick converse about something that was utterly boring. Now that they both were happy, they were rather obnoxious, thinking that everyone should fall prey to the parson’s mousetrap.
He had his reasons as to why he would never marry, but his resolve was starting to wane the more time he spent with Simone. She was unlike any of the other young women of his acquaintance. And it wasn’t just because she was a spy. No. It was more than that. She was fiercely strong, on the inside and out, but she also had a kind heart.
Roswell’s voice interrupted his reverie. “Are you even listening to us?”
“No,” Caleb admitted. “I stopped a long time ago. I grew tired of your drivel.”
“It isn’t drivel,” Roswell defended. “We were just discussing our plans after the Season ends. I thought we would all return to our country estate.”
“Exactly, drivel,” Caleb said.
Fredrick chuckled. “Is there something in particular that you would like to discuss?”
“With you, no,” Caleb replied. “I am doing just fine on my own.”
Roswell reached for his glass as he asked, “How is your assignment going?”
“Not well,” Caleb admitted. “The agents that were assigned to watch over the two French spies lost them. So now they are in the wind.”
“That is not good,” Roswell said.
“No, it isn’t,” Caleb agreed, “but they will make contact soon enough. They wanted us to secure invitations to Lord Pendley’s ball, which I did.”
Fredrick grew solemn. “Did you discover why they want to go to the ball?”
A resonant voice came from behind them. “They don’t.”
Caleb turned his head and could scarcely believe what he was seeing. It was Simone, and she was dressed in gentlemen’s clothing. She even had a thick black mustache above her upper lip and a top hat with tufts of hair peeking out.
In a hushed voice, he asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to speak to you,” Simone said, dropping the act with her voice.
Caleb gestured towards a chair. “Take a seat before anyone notices you.” He glanced around the room to see if anyone was paying them heed. “What were you thinking?”
Simone sat down and shared, “Your butler said you were here.”
“And you thought you could just stroll right into a gentlemen’s club undetected?” Caleb asked in disbelief.
“It worked, did it not?” she replied, smugly.
Simone turned her attention towards Roswell and Fredrick. “Gentlemen,” she greeted. “I am glad that you two are here. You need to hear what I am going to tell Caleb.”
Fredrick gave her a curious look. “How is that mustache staying on?”
