“What happened to your hair?” Evie asked, pulling away from the hug to inspect Mary’s head. As Mary was the shortest of them and Evie the tallest, she had a decent view. Mary groaned.
“Mrs. Biggins,” Josie and Lily said simultaneously, smirking at each other.
“It really is rather pretty,” Evie said, inspecting Mary’s blonde locks up close. Her own hair was such a dark brown, it appeared black until compared to Lily’s shiny raven locks.
“I would have thought blonde would wash you out, but there is still enough red to prevent that.” Josie nodded thoughtfully, joining Evie in her close inspection. “Will it help you find a husband?”
“I should hope not.” Mary wrinkled her nose, stepping away from her friends. “If a man only wants me for the color of my hair, he is not the man for me.”
“Well, at least you are sensible about it,” Lily muttered, casting a glance Josie’s way. Josie had once turned herself apple red standing in the sun, trying to turn her hair lighter after a dramatic picnic gathering where Joseph danced with the very blonde Miss Sarah Winston. “I like your natural color best, though.”
“Why are we talking about my hair again instead of why Evie has called us together?” Mary asked, exasperated. “I want to know why she had me follow a rake last Season.”
“Yes, and I would like to know why you have had me hounding my contacts for information about the French and Russian delegations,” Lily said, moving to Mary’s desk to pick up what must be her correspondence. She was an inveterate pen pal to many influential and scholarly personages across Britain and the Continent.
Josie moved quickly to Mary’s bed, claiming a spot where she could comfortably lean against the headboard before realizing everyone was looking at her.
“What?”
“I am waiting to hear your complaint,” Evie said dryly, a wry smile lifting the edges of her lips. “Although I suppose you did not consider watching over my cousins to be a hardship.”
“Elijah was a bit of a trial, but they are used to me being around Camden Hall,” Josie said with an indifferent shrug that fooled none of them. Mary giggled.
Elijah was the eldest of Evie’s cousins and in Mary’s opinion, the most handsome. Not that she wanted to marry him. He was far too high-handed in her opinion and always traveling. Unlike her parents, Mary was a homebody and did not want a marriage where she was always left behind. She had already experienced quite enough of that in her life. He and Josie were always butting heads, which was likely why she had set her sights on Joseph instead.
Lily sat at Mary’s desk, her hand on her papers, so Mary joined Josie on the bed while Evie stood before them. Evie had been the last to join their group of friends after her Uncle Oliver brought her to live with him when she was fourteen. An orphan, she was the only young woman in a household of men. She had been half wild after spending several years on the streets of London before her uncle had managed to find her. Looking at her now, in her stunning green walking dress that matched her eyes exactly, it was hard to believe she was the same person, but then, Evie was even better at transformations than Josie.
“As you all know, my Uncle Oliver is the spymaster for England,” Evie began formally, causing all of them to sit up. They were some of the few who did know, and only because Evie had told them a secret they were all sworn to take to their graves. They also knew Evie inserted herself into his business as much as possible, to her uncle’s and cousins’ chagrin.
“So, this is spy stuff?” Josie asked, sounding excited. Evie sent her a repressive look, and she subsided. Mary’s heart was beginning to beat faster—with excitement or anxiety, she wasn’t sure.
“I had hoped to leave you all out of this as much as possible,” Evie confessed with a sigh, then scowled. “Unfortunately, there are undercurrents at work, and I have been unable to work my way through them. Someone is playing a very long game, and I cannot see their end goal, and neither can my uncle.” Evie often spoke as if she and her Uncle Oliver shared the same mind, although her uncle was often not entirely aware of what his niece was up to.
“Leave us out of what?” Lily did not seem to share Josie’s excitement or Mary’s anxieties. As always, Lily was calm and serious. Unlike Mary’s other two friends, Lily did not deviate in appearance or demeanor, whether she was at a ball, with her friends, or out on a country ride. “You cannot just write out marching orders and expect us to follow through for months on end. We are not soldiers.”
“I would make a terrible soldier.” Josie grinned, but it was fleeting before she too focused on Evie. “Where have you been? Your uncle said you were in France two months ago, then a week after that, he was cursing your name for an entire afternoon. When Elijah asked, your uncle said he had lost track of you.”
“He said that in front of you?” Mary was aghast. Oliver Stuart was notoriously tight-lipped, even to those who did not know he was England’s spymaster—which was almost everyone.
“No,” Josie admitted. She blinked, the very picture of sincere innocence. “I happened to have lost an earring just outside of Lord Camden’s office door when Elijah was in there with him. I could not help overhearing.” As the eldest and the heir to both Lord Camden’s titles, it was not surprising they’d been discussing such secrets.
They all snorted.
“I was in France,” Evie confirmed, picking up the thread of conversation. “I was on tour, enjoying myself for once when I received a letter from Uncle Oliver, asking me to pick up a package from one of his men. It should have been completely routine.” Her lips quirked, a strange light kindling in her eyes. “Although not all of it was bad.”
“What do you mean?” Lily leaned in curiously, but Evie shook her head as if coming back to herself.
“Never mind about that. The important thing is we stopped an assassination attempt on the Duke of York last month, thanks to the information I received.”
Mary gasped right along with her friends. The Duke was currently the third in line to the throne. If such an attempt had succeeded, it would have caused chaos among the royal family and Society at large.
“An assassination? And we haven’t heard a thing!” Josie sounded almost outraged, although news coming to the countryside was a bit slow.
Evie shook her head. “No one knows right now, outside of my uncle’s men and you three.” She paused for a moment. “Well, and the Duke of York, of course.”
“Why tell us?” Lily asked. It was a good question. Evie was often close-mouthed about her uncle’s business.
The young woman rubbed her hand across her face before meeting their gazes, her head turning slowly between her three best friends.
“I need your help.” She grimaced. “Right now, we have very little to go on. The information… my… uncle’s man provided was little more than hearsay. If soldiers hadn’t been after him, we likely would have dismissed it entirely.”
“Who is the man?” Mary asked, picking up on the little hesitation in Evie’s voice when she spoke of him. The sharp glance she received in response confirmed her suspicion.
“No one important.” Evie said the words too quickly, piquing her friends’ interest. She sighed. “His name was Anthony Browne, and yes, he was very handsome, and we may have had a... a moment. May I return to the danger to our country now?”