Chapter One
Lady Gabriella Davenport, eldest daughter to the Earl of St George, had not meant to be eavesdropping from beneath the window of her dear papa’s study. She had been on her way back from the stables after a lovely ride on her dappled grey mare, Apple Blossom, when she had heard her name mentioned at the tail end of their conversation.
It had been the fraught nature of her mother’s tone that had at first caught her ear. Rarely did she hear her mama sound that way.
In the early morning sunshine, the cool breeze of summer caressing her face, she had imagined it far too lovely a day for her parents to be arguing. They had been doing a lot of that lately, mostly behind closed doors, but as the eldest of three daughters and a son, she always managed to be the first to hear it, always hoping that she might shield her younger siblings from such things.
“Gabbie ought to have been married off last Season,” her mother fretted, and Gabbie immediately understood why she had felt her ears burning on the walk back to the manor. It hadn’t been the early morning sun at all, but the fact that her parents were talking about her.
“It may well have helped,” came her father’s response, and though he sounded a little stressed, he did not sound nearly so frightful as Lady St George. “But it shall not help us now. We must look to the future. The sales of land can only help us for so long.”
Concerned with the odd sense of dread in her gut, Gabbie gripped hold of the windowsill and pulled herself up onto her tiptoes just enough to peer through the open window.
She held her breath as she did so, all too aware that if her parents caught her, she would be scolded for a week.
The scene before her was not anything out of the ordinary, yet somehow, it made her feel all the worse.
Her papa was sitting at his desk, a letter gripped in both hands, gazing over the frame of his spectacles. Gabbie knew from past experience of watching him read that he only did so when it was something he did not like the look of. And the way her mama stood at his shoulder, scrutinising the letter also, suggested that whatever it contained was most definitely not good news.
The closed door on the other side of the room confirmed as much. Her papa’s door was always open.
This is bad, she thought as her mother spoke up in an even more frightened tone.
“The children can never find out about this!”
The words made Gabbie cringe. Her parents had never kept anything from her. At least, she didn’t believe they had. And yet, here they were.
“Absolutely not!” the Earl of St George agreed immediately, his tone suggesting he was offended that she even felt the need to say so. “Nobody must find out about this!”
Gabbie gulped against the sudden lump in her throat. Never had she known her parents to be secretive. Whatever was contained within that letter was terrible, and somehow she had become the main reason for whatever that terrible thing was.
“If only she had married the Duke of Foston,” her mother insisted, shaking her head. Her brown hair, which had become silver over the years, seemed suddenly much more grey. “We would be set.”
Gabbie’s throat constricted. Though it had pained her last Season to pass up the opportunity to secure the reputation of her entire family by marrying well, she had been unable to get past the fact that the Duke of Foston was old enough to be her father with two grown sons already. He did not exactly have any real need for a wife. Besides, Gabbie had always prayed that she might be one of the lucky girls who managed to marry for love rather than family honour, reputation, and wealth. Those things were all important of course, but they were not enough.
Her parents agreed with that. At least, they had last Season. Now it seemed they had changed their minds.
While her papa remained silent, looking as though he was reading the letter repeatedly, her mama continued, “Even the Earl of Dunholme would have been a fine match to fix this!”
And the longer her mother talked, and her father remained silent, the more Gabbie realised exactly what their stress was about. She wasn’t sure how it had come to be but noticing her mother’s lack of mentioning the less wealthy men who had proposed to her last Season, she could only ascertain that their troubles were over wealth.
“The past does not matter,” the earl insisted. “What are we to do now?”
Gabbie’s heart swelled when she saw her mama place her hand on her papa’s shoulder. No matter what they faced, her parents had always faced it together.
“We shall fix this,” the lady announced, a quiet resolve seeming to come over her. “One way or another, we shall fix this.”
The dread in Gabbie’s stomach turned to stubborn curiosity, and she knew that somehow, she had to find out what was going on. The way her parents had been mentioning her past rejected proposals suggested she might well need to be prepared for whatever came next.
Why didn’t I just stay out with Apple Blossom? Gabbie thought as she gave her parents their privacy. Perhaps living in blissful ignorance might have been far better than wondering, am I about to be forced to do something my parents always promised would never happen?
Suddenly, the Kentish countryside was not nearly so peaceful. A place where Gabbie had always felt at ease felt as though it was closing in on her. If her parents were having money troubles, it would not be long before their eldest daughter had to pay the price for it. Unluckily for her, she was that daughter.
Chapter 2
In a small, dark bookshop in Lisbon, Spain, there was an even smaller back room. It was no ordinary room, one hidden behind a false bookshelf, only opened by a key few people possessed.
One man with such a key in his possession was Lord Harry Beauregard, the second son to the Duke of Kingston. And discreetly, he entered that little room to await his next task. He felt the usual anticipation of such occurrences, always prepared for the moment when something might go wrong, when he might be found out and dragged away to face the music.
But for the last ten years, he had done his duty to the crown in one way or another, and today would not be the day that changed. In fact, he didn’t believe that day would ever come. His last breath would be spent in service to his king.
The man who joined him, Harry had met many times, yet he had never learned his name. It was safest for everyone that way. All he knew for certain was that he was Spanish. Whether Spanish nobility or merely wealthy, Harry did not know, but he thought the man dressed far too well to be doing their kind of work. At least, the fine clothing was far too conspicuous for his liking. Even as the second son of a duke, he did not think it appropriate to dress as if one was going to dinner at a member of the ton‘s home when meeting to exchange intel.
And that was exactly what they did in that small room.
“You have it?” Harry hissed through gritted teeth. He had been waiting long enough, and the man seemed in no hurry to give up what he had. He looked back at Harry with one black brow raised, a disgruntled expression upon his face.
“I do, señor,” came the response, and finally, an envelope was produced from the man’s fine silk breast pocket.
Harry clenched his jaw. He much preferred these things to go as fast as possible. It was safer for them both that way. One never knew who could possibly be lurking, especially in a country allied to England, but where anything could happen. So far from home, having been for so long, Harry couldn’t help feeling as though he lived on borrowed time.
Tearing open the envelope, wanting to be certain of his task before leaving, Harry pulled out the intel papers and read quickly about his next target.
“Is he the only one?” Harry asked, turning his head up to the man who stood over him, never sitting at the table where Harry himself had been seated, waiting impatiently.
The man nodded firmly and grunted as if disgusted that he needed to question.
“Does this mean …” Harry began, unable to say the words aloud, fearing he might be wrong.
“Pack your things, señor. You’re returning home.”
Harry’s skin crawled at that. He had not been home to England for near on two years. His job was much easier away from England where nobody knew him or his name. Though clearly not Spanish with his sun-bleached brown hair, forest green eyes, or well-spoken English, he was much more able to blend in on the backstreets of Lisbon. He would not be nearly so lucky back in London.
“Were certain this man is the spy?” Harry asked, glancing at the name at the top of the piece of paper he was holding. If he were to return to England to spy, he had to be sure they had the right intel. To get on the wrong side of an English nobleman was tantamount to signing his own death warrant, especially when it came to the war.
The Spanish gentleman nodded curtly. “He sells secrets.”
Bile rose in the back of Harry’s throat. He had never been able to understand how any proud Englishman could possibly turn traitor.
Nothing, not love or wealth, nothing would ever cause Harry to do what his targets did, sell secrets to the Americans just to meet their own needs. King and country were all and had been ever since he joined the king’s army at just nineteen years of age.
“You have doubts?” the Spanish gentleman asked, and Harry quickly shook his head.
“Never.”
The quick pace of knocking upon the shelved door announced their time was up.
“You have all you need?” the Spanish gentleman asked. Harry glanced at the paper in his hand, nodded, and roused from his seat.
A gentleman’s handshake sealed the exchange, both men glowering at each other. Knowing they were allied did not negate the fact that each knew they had the power to destroy the other. Harry could only hope that this man knew as little of him as he did of the man.
After two years in Spain, he couldn’t help thinking that the sooner his feet touched English soil, the better.
“Courting an Enigmatic Spy” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!
In a world where love and duty collide, Lady Gabriella Davenport finds herself entangled in a web of desperation when her family is at risk of losing everything. Unwilling to see her family suffer due to a deal gone wrong, she takes matters into her own hands. Little did she know that amidst the sea of potential suitors who could save her family’s reputation, she would discover a mysterious man, whose presence would both enchant and bewilder her.
Could this enigmatic figure, hidden behind a veil of secrecy, hold the key to her heart’s fulfillment?
Lord Harry Beauregard, a man burdened by the weight of his duties and haunted by shadows of the past, finds himself irresistibly drawn to a woman unlike any he has encountered before. As his sworn allegiance to the crown drives him to embark on a treacherous espionage mission, his heart faces the most unexpected dilemma. To make matters worse, Gabriella appears to be close with one of his targets and Harry is torn between the pursuit of justice and a love that needs him to deviate from his chosen course.
Can he complete his mission without getting attached or will his disguise crumble?
With every encounter, their connection deepens, but peril lurks around every corner, threatening to tear them apart. Will Gabriella forsake the allure of wealth and societal expectations to follow her heart’s true desire? Could a spy ever find a way to protect both his greatest love and the secrets he is obliged to carry?
“Courting an Enigmatic Spy” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.
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