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“You are not a teacher?”
“Oh, Mariano, I wish. To be a teacher—no, better yet, to teach firewalking—would be a dream come true.”
“Am I allowed to ask who you are? Is your name Pippa?”
“Phillipa Hortensia Eugenia Blatchley, Viscountess of Beaumont. At your service, sir. Though you are not permitted to share that, either.”
“I think a Viscountess is senior, no? High ranking?”
She shrugs. “I travel in circles that are closed to many. This makes me useful to certain organizations.”
She’s a spy. A spy with a title. A good spy, too, if the riot of surprise in my chest is anything to go by. All of which explains how she managed to expunge the photos of me and Lolly so quickly.
“Now, with that out of the way…” She brushes the crumbs from her skirt. “Do you want me to look into who sold the photographs of you at the ball, in the car, and in the lift?” Her smile is kind, though her words are understated and British. Pippa is my friend, even if she is a spy.
And spies lie. “We don’t believe these two things are connected—the trade deal and the appalling attempt to smear your name—but if they are, we need to know about it. So, we’ll be sniffing around, naturally.”
Okay? Is it? I guess spies lie sometimes. When it suits them. But perhaps not in this instance? Pippa will find out who is stalking me and Lolly will be satisfied.ThisI can get behind.
A BLOODY DANGEROUS STUNT
Mariano Arias. Greenshoot Polo Ranch. Gloucestershire, England.
As far as secrets go, Pippa’s isn’t that onerous. I’ve put to bed my fear that she might double-cross me—she doesn’t give off that vibe. She’s a spy, and she was sent to make sure an international deal goes through. All I am obliged to do is make sure Alan andthe foreign gentleman, who is only to attend the evening get togethers, are thrown together as often as possible. In return, she’s going to have her team find out who sent those pictures to TMZ. The one I’m most interested in is the one of me and Juliette in an elevator in the Juniper Hotel. Becauseone of these things is not like the others.The other photographs could be targetingThrills, Spills, & Kills. Or Alan, if anyone has his scent. Or thevisitor,who’s here to do a trade deal that, if I’m understanding Pippa correctly, could topple the current government.
A shiver runs through me. This is far, far too much like home. My sister paid—with her life—when the military took up arms against the government, my father with years of immobility. Would that I weren’t so tangled in something I don’t fully comprehend. And yet…the English countryside makes it seem as though nothing bad could ever happen. No blood in the streets, young children being buried, mothers unmothered. It is a pleasant lie that no one dies by violence in this green and pleasant land, but one I’ve already signed my name to. For peace, for stability, forno bloodshed, I’ll do my duty.
As to the TMZ photographs? I agree with Ms. Pippa. They can’t be connected to this trade deal. The source of that photograph can only be one of three people: Juliette, who was there but is solidly my ally, or either one of the married couple, whose names I never learned. I don’t care to know who they are for the sake of retribution; I care so I can prove to Lolly thatnothing happenedon that day, or any other. Without proof, I believe Lolly may never speak to me again.
She hasn’t answered my calls or texts. I end my night by apologizing and start my morning by texting her another, longer, apology. Neither message evokes any response.
She doesn’t make an appearance in the breakfast hall, and when I approach her some hours later in the stable, she hands her pony off to one of the grooms and leaves without a backward glance.
Gordon Ellington, ourSporting Heartiesphotographer, has been replaced by Johannes Schlecker who, according to Pippa, is neither hackable nor bribable.
“Mariano?” Johannes bids me to join him at the merchandise table set up alongside the grassy pitch—better for photos, he said, though I prefer the enclosed arena for beginner lessons. “I need this to stay to the fore so that I can get somebettershots for the glossies. Gwen wasn’t at all impressed by that other chap’s snaps of you wearing her merchandise. She wants to emphasize the logo. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to just…” He draws a zip tie from his workbox and loops it through the back of theTS&Kbum bag that I am obliged to wear at all times. There aren’t many places to affix it to. “Mind if I untuck you?”
I hold my arms aloft as he whips my shirt out of the front of my pants, punches four neat holes in the fabric, then loops two zip ties through the holes so that the bum bag will be held in place right where my shirt is tucked into my trousers.
“Excellent. Two jumping jacks, if you will. To simulate the motion of the pony.”
I obey, aware of how ridiculous I look.
“Hmm, that’s not going to hold if you gallop.” He pulls down on the bag, stretching my shirt until it rips. “Yes, no good at all. You’re going to have to leave it with me. I’ll reinforce the underside here so the ties have something to grip onto, then have it right back to you.” He already has his tools laid out on the table.
I remove my shirt and leave it with Johannes for advertising surgery.
I’m waiting in the aisle when Lolly returns to the barn, her head down in earnest conversation with Henrietta.
“Lolly, may I have a moment of your time?” I step into her path.
Lolly has a hand on Henrietta’s arm. “Give us a moment, would you?” She’s all smiles until Henrietta is out of range. Then she turns back to me, her eyes flicking down my naked torso. “What can I do for you, Mr. Arias?” She could not be frostier if she tried, every glimmer of her passion that I admire so much extinguished. She’s flipped her English switch on and transformed herself into the polite, reserved, guarded version of herself. Something I’ve never seen her do with such alacrity.
“We need to talk.”
“I am in possession of your communication. Which you were so kind to send. Is there supplemental data you wish to furnish?”
“I did nothing. I went to Juliette’s suite and she made a phone call to Gwen, securing me this position.”
