St. Michaels Church stood in the center of the modest village, next to the town hall. This building held the constabulary, a rarely used jail and a large assembly hall. Various small commercial enterprises included a tobacconist, a library and The Gray Swan, an inn next to the public stables. The mail coach stopped on its way west to other destinations every day. Havelshire, at its furthest point, ended with a lovely park and a pond, well-used in summer by the local populace.
Sebastian stood peering out of the tall windows, a deep frown on his face. His office, on the first floor to the right of the entryway, faced front. When he heard the sound of horse’s hooves approaching, he removed his watch from his vest pocket to check the time.
The new trainees were returning from their first afternoon riding session punctual. He smiled to himself, knowing how rigorous his stable master, Tom Deff, a former circus rider, taught the lads his tricks. He tried to imagine his newest recruit doing circus tricks on a horse and smiled, yet his eyes remained grim.
Bloody hell. She’ll fall on her arse. Maybe that will force the chit to resign in disgust. With a sigh, he put the delightful thought out of his head and seated himself at his desk to study the reports demanding his attention. Yet thoughts of the new recruit persisted.
Why did Sidmouth humiliate him and force the woman on his operation? Why couldn’t she remain a mere clerk in the home office? What made the home secretary think she could succeed in such a rigorous training program? What reason would a sensible woman have to choose to train as a spy anyway? Heaven only knew.
Olivia was right behind her sister Helena as they proceeded out the side door of Fairchild House. She wished her brat of a brother had had the courtesy to remain at home to witness her triumphant departure. Instead, Edward had elected to ride his curricle in Hyde Park and show off his skill to the young ladies who dangled after him. Almost eighteen, the heir apparent was a handsome lad who favored his dark-skinned mother. Aside from the fortune and the title he stood to inherit, his bold black eyes, his dark hair streaked with the light of the sun and his lively disposition enhanced his popularity.
Olivia was dressed in her new blue silk morning gown, matching pelisse, blue silk shoes and a fetching bonnet that framed her face and allowed her curls to fall just so. She was alive with anticipation as she glanced to the right and noted with approval her two waiting coaches. They were full to the brim with numerous trunks packed with the new wardrobe she’d purchased in a frantic whirl through every fine London shop preferred by the Fairchild women. She and Helena had had a wonderful time shopping, but it had taken every bit of their time after she’d learned of her acceptance into the spy training academy.
“I’m more than ready, Helena. According to my last letter, a messenger will deliver directions to the secret location. He should be here at any moment.” She squeezed her sister’s hand as they watched the footmen secure the last of her trunks on top of the second carriage holding all her new belongings.
The clatter of horses’ hooves caught her attention. Startled, she glanced quizzically at Helena.
“A carriage appears to be approaching, Livy.”
Olivia’s stomach lurched. “Are you expecting someone, perhaps?”
“No, dear. It must be your messenger.”
The coach drew abreast of them and the driver swung down from his perch. He removed his hat and said, “Beggin’ pardon, miladys. Which one of you is Lady Olivia Fairchild, if you please?”
“What business have you with her ladyship, my good man?” demanded Helena.
“I’ve been sent to fetch her, milady.”
“How thoughtful, Helena. They’ve sent an escort for me,” said Olivia, pleased.
The driver blushed. His hands twisted the brim of his tri-corner hat. “As to that, milady, I’m to bring you.” He glanced at the other woman. “Alone.”
“No need, my good man. My abigail and I shall follow you in my carriage. The other one holds my personal effects, you see.”
The blush deepened to scarlet. “Sorry, milady. I’ve strict orders to fetch you in this here coach. You are to bring only one portmanteau. You won’t be needin’ more.”
Olivia’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Only one portmanteau? Impossible.” She waved toward her coaches. “I cannot travel with less than…”
“Livy,” Helena said, and shook her head as if to say, “not in front of the driver.” She took her sister’s hand and led her out of earshot.
“I cannot fit everything I need into one trunk. Impossible! There must be some mistake. I’m going to find out who issued such a ridiculous order and let him have a piece of my mind. It cannot be the home secretary, can it? No, not him. He’s too much of a gentleman.”
When Olivia took a breath, her sister found the opportunity to reply. In a firm tone, she warned, “Now, Livy. Think for a moment. You are not on your way to visit friends in the country in order to dance at balls and have picnics. You are going to be trained for clandestine service. If that is what you’ve always wanted, why fuss over your wardrobe?”
“It is what I want. You know very well it is. But all my new gowns and my riding habits and my shoes and my bonnets and my pelisses and my reticules and my abigail…”
Helena clasped both Olivia’s hands in hers. “If this opportunity is indeed what you want, you must do your duty and obey orders without question. Unless, of course, you wish to change your mind and stay here?”
Olivia thought a moment, as if struggling with her conscience. “No. I won’t give up, Helena. I’ve dreamed of this for too long. You can be sure I’m equal to whatever awaits me.” She tried to sound brave, yet the fall of her shoulders betrayed her. “All right. One portmanteau it is.” She beckoned to her abigail, who hurried to her side.
“Have the footmen remove the largest portmanteau from the second coach, and fit as many of my things into it as you can.”
“There’s my brave girl,” her sister said as they returned to the driver sent to fetch her.
But his eyes were on the two footmen removing the large trunk. He shook his head. “Too big, yer la’ship. Ye’re allowed only a small portmanteau. It’s me orders, you see.”
“A small…?” She glared at him.
He raised both hands in a helpless gesture and whined, “It’s me orders.”
“Livy,” her sister warned in a low voice.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! All right! Put the large sac back and bring me my travel portmanteau,” she called to the footmen. To her abigail she added, “Have the men return the rest of my trunks to my chambers, but don’t unpack just yet. I’m sure there must be some mistake. I’ll send for you and for the rest of my baggage just as soon as I clear up this misunderstanding.”
The sisters watched in silence as the two footmen removed her portmanteau from the first carriage and handed it to the driver, who secured it to the back of his cab.
While they waited, Helena said, “Now that you’ve decided to accept the challenge of this new position, you must promise me two things, Livy.”
“What is it you wish me to promise, dearest?”
“For one, promise me you will obey orders without question.”
Her eyes flew open in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I obey orders?”
Helena laughed. “You do have a tendency to see things differently, dear sister. Don’t try to substitute your interpretation of an order to suit yourself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Helena. I