Too Hot For A Spy. Pearl Wolf

cellar to the attic and above that to the chimneys on the roof. She explained in detail the workings of a large country house, something she knew well, for she had been housekeeper at an earl’s estate in Leeds before she married.

      Heatham was much larger than Wilson Academy, Olivia noted. The procedures were familiar to her, but not to the other men.

      “You will be expected not only to learn the function of every servant in this house, but also to practice their roles. Male trainees will be assigned to spend time as footmen dressed in proper livery, performing tasks such as carrying coal to the chambers, cleaning out the ashes, trimming the lamps, serving meals and the like. It will stand you in good stead should you be required to infiltrate a household for the purpose of espionage.

      “As for you, Fairchild, you will learn to perform the various duties of maids. Their task is to keep the house clean, supply the chambers with water for washing and bathing, and keep the fires going. As a kitchen maid, you will be required to help the cook and as a scullery maid, you will wash dishes, pots and pans, and scrub the floor at the housekeeper’s request. All outdoor tasks will be described to you by the stable master. You may proceed to his class now. Good afternoon.”

      As they filed out, she put a restraining hand on Olivia’s arm. “Fairchild? A moment please.”

      “Yes, ma’am? What is it you wish?”

      “The spymaster has requested that I arrange for you to be clothed properly. Come to my sitting room before you retire this evening, and I’ll take your measurements for the seamstress. She’s one of our under maids and she’s very handy with a needle. Our tanner will measure your feet as well. Those boots are far too large for you.”

      “Yes, Mrs. Hunnicut. Thank you, ma’am.” As she hurried off, she couldn’t help but wonder. Could this order mean something more than merely to provide her with suitably fitted clothing and boots? Could the spymaster be softening toward her? Could he have relented and accepted her role? If that were so, she’d have to work hard—harder than the others, perhaps—to reinforce that view.

      The day turned warm and sunny by the time Olivia reported to the stables. The lads were already busy brushing the horses down, feeding them and cleaning their stalls.

      Stable master Tom Deff, a gray-haired, Irish gentleman with a brogue to match, had been an accomplished circus rider in his youth. His innocent blue eyes belied the fact that he could be stern when necessary. “Afternoon, Fairchild. What kept ye?”

      “Mrs. Hunnicut detained me, sir.”

      He looked her up and down as if she were a filly he planned to purchase. “Any experience w’horses?”

      “Yes, sir. My father believed that a rider could not be considered accomplished unless said rider knew how to care for a horse properly. I know how to brush my horse down, feed him, apply a hock when necessary, and clean his stall. My father says I have a good seat—for a woman, that is.”

      Deff laughed heartily. “Yer da’s a man’s man, fer all that he’s a duke. You won’t embarrass him here, I expect. I have a horse for you in mind, lass. He’s young and frisky. Think you can handle him?”

      “What do you think, sir?” she challenged with a smile.

      “I think I’ll wait and see, but if you can bring this fidgety colt to heel, I’ll take me hat off to you.”

      After dinner, the trainees repaired to study hall. There they concentrated on studying the day’s work they were expected to master. The twins put their heads together, but Carter and Perkins sat by themselves.

      Riggs asked, “Shall we study together, Fairchild? Learning’s easier that way. At least for me.”

      “I’d be honored, Riggs. Let’s take that corner so we don’t disturb the others.”

      The two opened their manuals and set to work, turning to one another for explanation over one puzzling point or another. Most questions involved decoding, the most difficult of topics.

      At half past the hour, Olivia said. “I have to leave you now, for I promised to report to Mrs. Hunnicut.” Olivia paused. “A question, Riggs. It’s about fetching wash water in the morning. It took me too long today. That’s why I missed breakfast.”

      “Yes, I know,” he said kindly. “Here’s the trick to it, lass. Fetch the water from the well just before bedtime and heat it to a boil in a kettle in the kitchen—no one’s working there at that hour. When you return to your room, cover it well with a washing cloth. It may not be as hot as you would like by morning, but it will still be comfortably warm.”

      “Good advice. I’ll try it tonight.” She gathered her manuals and began to rise, but Riggs stayed her hand. “What is it?”

      He half rose to whisper in her ear. “Carter’s a toadeater. He reports everything to the spymaster. Be careful what you say in his hearing.”

      “You saw Livy off all right? Where’s she gone to?” the duke demanded of his daughter Helena when she and Edward arrived at Heatham.

      “I don’t know her exact location, Father. A coach came to fetch her away.”

      “So she’s got her wish. In training to be a spy, is she?” he asked bitterly, without expecting any answer. “Much against my wishes.”

      “Don’t raise your voice dear,” said the duchess calmly.

      His Grace bit back a sharp retort. “I’m sorry, Helena, my love. Not your fault. Tell us all you know.”

      “It was all very hush-hush, I fear.” Her eyes lit with amusement.

      “What do you find so funny, child?”

      “My dear parents, if you only knew the half of it. Her new wardrobe filled two coaches, but when a driver came for her, he wouldn’t allow her to take more than one small portmanteau.” She and her mother burst out laughing, for Livy’s fondness for new clothes was well known.

      “Extraordinary,” grumbled her father. “Did she send for them?”

      “They won’t allow it. You can’t see her bed for all the clothing and the trunks she was forced to leave behind. Her chamber resembles an elite shop in Bond Street. She tried to leave you each a letter saying good-bye, but the driver took them. She’s not to be allowed to communicate with the outside world during the twelve weeks of her training.”

      His Grace held his head in his hands. “That long?”

      “It’s the path she’s chosen, Father.”

      “Chosen? Chosen? What gave her the right to make such a dangerous choice? She forced me to approve, but in truth I never wanted this for her and well she knows it. Am I not her father?”

      “Stop it, Tony!” Her Grace warned in a sharp voice. She turned to her daughter and added kindly, “Leave us, dear. Your father and I need to talk.”

      “Of course, Mother.” She rose and kissed first her mother’s forehead, and then her father, crossed the room and closed the door quietly behind her.

      “Livy must be allowed to follow the path she’s chosen. You must accept that, Tony,” said Her Grace.

      “Why should I, Ellen? Tell me that, will you?”

      “Because if you don’t, we’ll lose her.” She went to him and held his head in her hands. “I won’t lose my firstborn, Tony. It is you who must give in. Put your mind at ease, dearest. It’s a government program, which means she is in capable hands and no harm will come to her. If she fails, you will see her home soon enough. Besides, you did agree to let her go, didn’t you?”

      The duke ignored this reminder of a weak moment. “What if she succeeds? We lose her to her success. Did you ever think of that?”

      “Oh my foolish, foolish darling. If Livy succeeds we shall rejoice for her, for that will be our daughter’s