Sir Michael's Mayhem Read online

  “No, thank you, Tristan. I can manage from here. Enjoy your evening. I will see you in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.” With that, Tristan departed, leaving Michael to deal with a meal he was no longer hungry for and struggling with desires out of place with the work at hand.

  After he ate, he paced the sitting room like a caged tiger. The document needed to be deciphered. Time was of the essence. He gained nothing by attending the spate of balls and recitals that were open to him for this evening. Theo might be at the club, but he was too anxious for that. Fidget followed in his wake clicking at him.

  “I realize that. I need to get this done, Fidget. So you think I should allow Mouse to help me?”

  Fidget jumped from the floor to the chair and in a swift leap was on Michael’s shoulder giving him kisses.

  “I don’t want to deal with Phillip. How am I to accomplish this if she is under such guard? Will she even agree to help me anymore?”

  The ferret’s eye was close to his own. The animal jumped down and attacked the meat on the plate that Michael hadn’t finished.

  Michael shook his head. He needed to see her, but how to do that in Phillip’s house without anyone being aware? Well, he wasn’t in this business for anything, but there would be hell to pay if he got caught. For some reason, that hell wasn’t looking so bad anymore.

  6

  Katrina rested and her appetite had returned. Her hostess spent some time visiting but with a young child to care for, was occupied elsewhere and exhausted. Katrina made it clear that she did not need Elizabeth hovering over her. She had a book from Phillip’s library and Phillip had managed to bring a box of her belongings from Lady Orion’s home, who was informed that she was taking a much-needed holiday at Phillip’s request, keeping any injury out of the discussion.

  Lady Orion graciously acquiesced, knowing of the long-term relationship and assuming that Katrina was there to assist in caring for the baby.

  Carriages could be heard through the slightly opened window. She strained to catch a view past the gas streetlights to any stars, but a fog shrouded the city, even this early in the spring. The smell of rain was once again in the air, and a full moon rose faintly, casting eerie light through the clouds. The night had a surreal quality to it and she shivered, not so much due to the cool air coming in, but due to her fanciful imagination thinking something was about to happen. She wrapped her robe around her, taking care not to lift her arm. The throbbing in her shoulder and resulting weakness persisted. She reached for the glass sitting on the table by her side and lifted it to her lips. The brandy burned its way down her throat and warmed her from the inside out. Phillip would be shocked to see her drinking this, but she learned a long time ago that there were times when even a lady needed a good stiff drink. It was either that or the laudanum which she abhorred.

  Her slippered feet on the floor touched something warm and soft before it made a small noise. She fought to not scream. Did Phillip have a cat she was unaware of? She slowly set her glass down and raised her feet. Two beady eyes peered up at her and a little nose wiggled as the creature made a clicking noise. This wasn’t a cat. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she swallowed the sounds that she wanted to emit. Be brave.

  The little creature bared his sharply edged teeth in a perverse little smile. Her heartbeat quickened and adrenaline surged through her. Before she could kick the animal to the side, it skittered away toward the window and perched itself on the sill in front of her. Finally, it stretched out with his eyes focused on the view outside of the glass. Little ears perked up and twitched.

  Katrina rose to her feet. The black, white, and brown animal gazed back at her as if daring her to leave. She went to her bag. With one eye on the animal, she reached her right hand in and withdrew the small pistol. She checked to make sure it was loaded and primed when a voice behind her made her jump.

  “I hope you were not planning to use that on me.”

  Katrina turned quickly with the gun pointed but dropped her arm to her side when she recognized Michael. She closed her eyes briefly before opening them again. “How dare you scare me like that.”

  “I’m sorry. I expected you to be asleep at half past ten.” He exhaled.

  “For most of the city, the fun has just begun. You don’t expect a bullet wound to keep me from enjoying my season in London.” Her chin came up a fraction.

  “Season? Most debutantes don’t spend their seasons dressed in gray, taking on a life of service and twice tempting death with their foolhardy actions.” Michael folded his arms.

  The animal from the window managed to jump up from the bed onto his shoulders and wrap himself around the back of Michael’s neck. Clicking and kissing Michael, it stared at her with beady eyes and a grin.

  “What, or who, is that?” She pointed to the animal with the gun still in her hand.

  Michael reached out and removed the pistol. “I don’t think you’ll be needing this tonight.” He placed it back in the bag while still holding her right hand with his other one. He brought the hand up to his mouth and left a kiss on her skin.

  Scandalous rogue!

  Heat sizzled up her arm at his touch.

  Michael continued to hold her gaze with his coffee-colored eyes. “This, my dear, is my associate, Fidget. He is a ferret and has at times been useful in my work. He insisted on joining me tonight.” Michael brought her hand up to Fidget’s nose and the ferret sniffed her fingers before licking her. Michael dropped her hand between them but didn’t release her.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Fidget. So nice to meet another agent who has the challenge of working with Sir Michael.”

  “Drop the Sir, please, Katrina? We’ve known each other too long to stand on ceremony and the title—well, it’s an anomaly and not my identity.”

  “You earned that title through honest and courageous actions. Why despise it?” Katrina tugged her hand free and walked back to her seat by the window. She closed the glass and pulled the drapes shut before seating herself in the chair and picking up her glass again.

  “Maybe so, but I’m still Michael. A simple man, caught between the worlds of respectable aristocracy and social outcast. The title gives me a bit more cachet than I deserve.” He walked over toward the window. Pulling up a chair in front of her, he sat.

  “Why are you here, Michael, in the middle of the night and with a ferret? I’m assuming you did not make your entrance by the front door and your presence here is unknown to my hosts?”

  “You definitely were never one to let things slip by you, were you?” He winked and that little smirk made her want to slap him.

  “You refuse to answer the question?”

  “Question? You were asking a question?” Michael raised his left finger to tap his nose several times as he squinted his eyes. “Oh, yes. Why am I here? Or how did I get in here? Which one concerns you the most?” He gave her his most winning smile.

  She fought a grin. Something about those dark eyes twinkling in the candle-lit room, caused her heart to flip. She lifted her glass to her lips. She closed her eyes as she savored the warmth and calming of the brandy. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” she said as she leaned back on her right shoulder while cradling the glass.

  He reached out, took the glass and took a sip. He held the glass out and looked at it. “French? Where would Phillip procure French brandy?”

  “Probably from his father.” She took the glass back and set it on the table.

  “Most likely.”

  Katrina drank in the sight of him. Dark hair pulled back into a que at his neck. She remembered the softness of those locks as her fingers ran through them. Was that only two nights ago? She took in the thick arched brows above dark eyes. The stubble on his face. He was dressed all in black and his boots were well worn and scuffed with a softer sole. No wonder she hadn’t heard him come in. He was not nicknamed “Cat” without good reason.

  “Do I pass inspection?” With one eyebrow raised, amusement tinge
d Michael’s words.

  “You’ll do, I suppose.” She gave him a smirk.

  “How do you fare?” Concern was now evident and written in the lines between his brows and the frown on his face.

  “As well as can be expected for someone who has been shot. I couldn’t sleep anymore. I did that almost all day.” She blushed as she glanced past him to the bed behind him with the covers pulled back as if in invitation. The impropriety of the situation struck her. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

  “I had to come.”

  “You did? Why?”

  “Because you possess something I need.”

  Her breath caught. She whispered the words, “I do?”

  “The code,” Michael whispered.

  “Did you bring the document?”

  “I brought a part of it.”

  “Fair enough.” She rose and started to make her way to her bag. “You want to begin work on that now?”

  Michael nodded. “We don’t have time to lose.”

  “Right.” Katrina dug into the bag, pulled out her father’s old journal. With a golden embossed cover and tattered pages, it appeared older than it really was. Even though it was about to fall apart, it was the most precious possession she owned. She hugged the book close to her for a moment and fought back the memories of her father. Tears often accompanied touching this book that bared her father’s heart to her. With a heavy sigh, she turned.

  He stood and followed her to the low table by the fireplace. She set the book down reverently and slowly slid to her knees, bracing herself with her right arm. Michael fished out the sample scrap of code and came to kneel beside her, placing paper on the table for her to view.

  She gave him a small smile as her finger touched the paper and glanced at what he had written down. Opening the journal, she flipped to a spot towards the end with similar drawings, and she started to whisper the secrets of the document he had struggled with for so long.

  “You broke the code.”

  She remained silent, closed the journal, and handed him back the scrap. He took the paper and ripped it up and tossed it into the fireplace.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked.

  “It is a mere copy and only one fragment of a much larger document. I brought that little bit to make sure what you claimed was true.” He reached out to clasp her right hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

  She glanced down at their joined hands, reveling in the warmth of his touch and the sensations it aroused in her. His dark eyes reflected the light of the fire.

  “Does that mean you believe me now? That we can be partners?”

  “I despise bringing you into this. Your life is at risk if it is discovered you were involved.”

  “But if I don’t help you, how will you ever do this?” She removed her hand and instantly grew chilled.

  Michael frowned at her withdrawal. “Give me the journal and I shall do it alone.”

  “I cannot part with this.” She picked up the book with her one good hand and held it to her chest.

  “Why? It’s just an old book.”

  “No. It’s more than that. This holds the key to absolving my father of the lies that were compiled against him as he lay dead and unable to defend himself.”

  “If I use the book to crack the code, you still get what you want and your life would not be at risk.” Michael’s voice held a gentle plea.

  “You don’t understand, Michael. This is all I have left of him. It’s more than the codes. His hopes, dreams, plans. His love for me and for God are all written in these pages. I would never willingly part from this.”

  “Not even for King and country?”

  Katrina’s lips pursed together and anger flared inside. She struggled to rise and he gently helped her up, but kept his hand on her right elbow.

  He cleared his throat. “Katrina,” he whispered.

  She glanced up into his face.

  Their eyes held and a connection from years before seemed to flash to fresh life.

  He leaned forward and his lips met hers in a tender tribute. She whimpered in response and he deepened the kiss, drawing her body closer to his.

  She finally pulled her head back, dizzy with pleasure and confusion over the emotions at war within her. “We shouldn’t. I think you need to leave.” She took a step back out of his embrace.

  “Katrina, I—”

  “—am sorry and it won’t happen again.” She walked over to the bed to put her journal back in the bag, only to discover something or someone, warm and fuzzy in there. She gave a stifled squeal as she pulled her hand out, book clutched tightly. A small furry head popped up and grinned. Katrina tried to slow her heartbeat. “Michael, I think your pet needs to depart with you.”

  Michael came up behind her and glanced over her shoulder. “Fidget. Come here.” Michael reached out his hand. The ferret scampered up and weaseled his way into an interior pocket in Michael’s coat.

  Fascinating. She put the journal in the bag. Turning, she faced Michael and giggled at the squirming lump on the left side of his chest.

  Michael grinned. “Fidget, shhhh!” The ferret stopped moving completely but the lump remained. Michael glanced up at Katrina, his eyes dancing.

  “Please let me help.”

  His smile faded. “I don’t want you hurt.”

  “It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?” She touched her injured shoulder with her good hand.

  “I’m sorry. It should never have happened. I still don’t understand why you didn’t receive that note. Lord Hughes never got it either.” His eyebrows almost met as he squinted in concentration.

  Katrina’s hand came up and she smoothed the lines between his eyes with her thumb before she even realized she was doing it.

  Michael grasped her wrist and held it gently.

  They stared at each other. Michael’s gaze went to her lips again and he licked his own as if preparing for a feast. Katrina longed for more of those kisses, but her resistance to him was weak. She took back her hand and stepped away. “You need to leave.”

  Michael grinned. “You are correct. What is it about you, Mouse? You infuriate and attract me all at the same time.”

  Katrina smiled. “I can relate. We sometimes want most what we can’t have.” Her voice was soft and tender. “Good night, Michael. Sleep well, and stay safe.”

  Michael leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek. As he turned to leave the room a clicking sound came from his coat. “Shhhhh, Fidget. This is not the time for that.”

  The door closed and weariness overtook her in his absence. Banking the fire and blowing out the candles, she climbed into bed, her thoughts dwelling on kisses that awakened dead dreams she knew she’d never achieve. She cried herself to sleep.

  Michael, I love you. If only you understood that.

  ~*~

  The next day, Michael found himself once again summoned to Lord Hughes’s office at Whitehall. This time, he was ushered in immediately.

  “Good morning, Michael. Please sit.” Lord Hughes motioned to a chair as he resumed his seat behind the large mahogany desk practically covered with piles of papers everywhere.

  Michael sat, folded his arms in front of his chest, and waited.

  “So how is she?”

  “She?”

  “Mouse, you idiot. Let’s not play games, Michael. I have no time for that.”

  “It’s only been a day. She’s in pain, and as full of sass as she ever was. Still being stubborn, insisting on helping me break this code.”

  “Can she do it?”

  Michael nodded and frowned.

  “Why can’t we let her?”

  “I’m going to have a hard-enough time explaining to Lord Remington about his cousin being shot. If any more harm comes to her, how do I justify that? I don’t want her involved, it’s too dangerous.” His voice was terse and words came out clipped through clenched teeth.

  Lord Hughes leaned back in his chair. “You care about her.”
<
br />   “As a human being, yes. She is nothing more to me and never could be.”

  “She’d be perfect for you.”

  “I don’t need anyone.”

  “I beg to differ. In this case, you need Miss Katrina Shepherd and I plan to give you an order that you will obey. Let her help you. Get this done and do everything in your power to ensure she stays safe.”

  Michael’s chin went up. He swallowed his anger as he glared at Lord Hughes. That man, older and wiser, stared back.

  “It will be as you wish, Lord Hughes. But heaven help you if any harm does befall her. By helping me she may be walking into greater danger than you realize and I will not be held responsible for the consequences.”

  “She is your responsibility. I expect you to protect her as fervently as any man would his wife.”

  “Katrina is not my wife.”

  “No, but she could be.”

  “You don’t know what you are asking of me.”

  “I think I do. Get it done, Michael. And quickly. Men are dying while we play our little games here. Let’s put a halt to some of that needless carnage.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Michael strode toward the door. His back was straight and shoulders squared. He turned as he reached the knob. “This is my last case. When this is completed, I intend to resign my position with the War Office.” Michael opened the door and closed it behind him with a slam.

  ~*~

  Katrina struggled to rest. She read through her father’s journal again and found comfort in his words, even when they were the simple tasks of a day being recorded. How investments progressed or neighborhood news. It reminded her of happier days.

  Michael failed to visit the past few days and she found herself pacing at night, hoping he would show up to work on the document. She needed to prove her father had not been a traitor. While she understood that Lord Hughes and Lord Remington did not believe those rumors, she wanted more comprehensive proof so that word could spread through the ton exonerating his name posthumously.

  That was her purpose. It disturbed her when her thoughts dwelt on the image and desire for a certain spy. Dark eyes glinting a challenge to her. His soft hair. Those lips. Stop! There was no time or place for that kind of childish mooning over a man who didn’t want her. Well, that might not be completely true. He desired her as a woman. But he didn’t desire Katrina Maria Shepherd. He didn’t need her in his life and he did not want her in on this case. She brushed away tears.