Too Hot For A Spy. Pearl WolfЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Saturdays were set aside for the trainees to perform personal tasks. They were expected to wash their own clothing, clean their chamber, change their linens and perform all necessary personal grooming activities.

      The men set up their bathtub in the study hall on the first floor and took turns bathing. Riggs had thought to tack an amusing note on the door that read, KEEP OUT! THIS MEANS YOU, FAIRCHILD!

      But he needn’t have bothered with the sign, for Olivia was luxuriating in her own hot bath in front of the warming fireplace in Mrs. Hunnicut’s sitting room. Pure heaven. How had she taken such a luxury so for granted all these years, she wondered.

      Mrs. Hunnicut peered into the room. “The lads are waiting for me to trim their hair and pare their nails. I’ll do the same for you when I return.”

      “Thank you, Mrs. Hunnicut. My nails are sorely in need of paring now that they’ve all been shortened by the week’s er…activities. As to my hair, will you do it up for me?”

      “I’m not handy that way, but I’ll send Jenny to do it for you, dear. She’s much better at it than I am. I’ll attend to your nails when I return. Our Saturday luncheons are the only time instructors and trainees have an opportunity to become better acquainted. We find the relaxation of the rules invigorating and you will too, I imagine.”

      “I look forward to it, then.”

      Olivia rested her head on the edge of the tub and let her thoughts wander.

      What an extraordinary week this has been! It’s as if I’ve never known any life other than this one. An odd sensation. Do I miss my family? Yes and no. I find being here much to my liking, except for the dour spymaster who clearly wishes me as far away as Scotland. Or Hades, perhaps. Yet when he made love to me at the Hobbleton Ball in London, it was as if he were a different man. I liked his touch then. I’d like it now if he weren’t such a grumpy bear.

      When the bathwater cooled, she rose and dressed for teatime. Mrs. Hunnicut had suggested she wear her own clothing for the occasion, the gown she’d worn when she arrived at Wilson Academy. When Jenny appeared and fixed her hair for her, she couldn’t have been more pleased. The young scullery maid had talent far beyond scrubbing floors. While she waited for Mrs. Hunnicut to repair her ragged nails, Olivia occupied herself with the many ladies magazines the housekeeper was so fond of reading. It was a most relaxing morning.

      A luncheon buffet was served in the drawing room on the ground floor. The terrace doors had been thrown open, for it was a warm summer day.

      “Riggs! How well you look,” said Olivia. “And you, Perkins. You too, Carter. Why, we all look almost human. I feel as though we’re at a party in London.” She stopped to look around her. “But where are the twins?”

      Rufus Riggs laughed. “They’ll be here shortly, Fairchild. They’re planning a bit of mischief, I think.”

      The door opened to their instructors, all dressed in the pink of fashion. Olivia should not have been surprised to find the spymaster outshining his instructors in dress. He wore well-made buckskin trousers tucked into gleaming Hessians and a blue coat obviously made by the finest of London tailors. A handsome light blue vest was buttoned over an excellent white shirt, his neatly tied neckpiece completing the costume.

      He lost no time in mingling with the trainees. In a warm voice, he said, “Congratulations to you all. I received nothing but glowing reports on your progress at our staff meeting yesterday. You do us proud. I trust your second week will be just as rewarding.” He looked around him. “But where are the twins?”

      “Here, sir,” they answered in unison. They were dressed in matching apparel down to their boots.

      “Who, may I ask, is whom, gentlemen?”

      “Ah, that’s for you to guess, sir. We know who we are, but do you? We challenge all of you. Can anyone tell us apart?”

      Much delight was taken in trying to guess, a sport in which the trainees and their instructors ventured varied opinions. But Olivia did not participate. Instead, she hung back and observed the merriment, her hand stroking her chin.

      “What is your guess, my dear?” Mrs. Hunnicut asked her at last.

      She looked around the room. “I needn’t guess. I’ve always been able to tell these two rascals apart, no matter how hard they try to swindle me.”

      “How clever you are, Fairchild. Do tell. I can’t wait to hear,” challenged John Carter, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

      Olivia tilted her head at him and smiled. “I warn you, Carter. You’ll owe me an apology for your challenge.” She walked up to the twins, took each by a hand and searched their grinning faces. “You devils! Your dimple is much deeper when you smile, William. And you, Robert, curl your lip when you frown.”

      “Right you are. Good show, Fairchild!” said Robert. “Apologize, Carter. You owe it to her.”

      Carter turned his attention to the sideboard and filled his plate. He looked up at the others and said, “Apologize? For what? Fairchild merely ventured a wild guess and happened to hit the mark. I knew the difference between you two all the time.”

      Olivia’s self-appointed champion, a very red-faced Riggs, confronted him. “That’s unkind in you, Carter. Apologize to the lady, or I’ll land you a…”

      The room went silent until Hawes spoke up. “No challenges here, Riggs. Save it for the boxing ring.”

      “With pleasure, sir!” said Riggs, uncurling his balled fists.

      “As you wish, but I’m handy with the gloves,” added Carter in a bored tone.

      Hawes narrowed his eyes. “Which do you prefer, then? Boxing or wrestling?”

      “Boxing,” said Carter.

      “Wrestling,” said Riggs at the same time.

      “A coin toss, then. In class on Monday, gentlemen.”

      When the two combatants continued to glare at one another, Sebastian intervened. “That’s enough, you two. On Saturdays we behave like ladies and gentlemen. This is meant as an essential part of your training.”

      The instructors rose to the occasion by attaching themselves to one or the other of the trainees and engaging them in animated conversation.

      Mrs. Hunnicut was left to engage Carter in conversation, for no one else approached him to sooth his arrogant feathers. She drew him to a quiet corner of the drawing room. “Tell me, Carter. Where were you raised? Have you family? How do you take your tea?”

      Sebastian offered Olivia his arm. “I fancy a stroll in our garden, Fairchild. Care to join me?”

      Shocked at this pleasantry, she placed her hand on his arm. When he covered it with one of his hands, his touch sent a quiver of excitement through her. She drew in her breath and said, “Yes, sir. I would like that.” He led her outdoors and down the two steps into the garden where summer flower buds were already a riot of color lining the pathway.

      “Don’t look so down in the mouth, Fairchild. I don’t consider you at fault for the unpardonable behavior shown by Carter and Riggs.”

      “Kind of you to say so, sir. I was afraid you’d think otherwise.”