Saving Shadow: A Regency Spy Romance (The Beckett Files Book 1) Read online

  Jonathon groaned and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Eliza, be reasonable, for heaven’s sake! Tonight, you were fortunate. You might be the one lying in that alley had events been even a little different!”

  Rising from her chair, her eyes blazed. “Clearly, I was the only one prepared to deal with these ‘events’, as you call them. Uncle Charles knew that I could be trusted with the responsibilities of an agent, and now it is plain that I would do just as well as a field agent.”

  “You have no idea what you are saying, Eliza! You, my little sister, killed a man not even two hours ago, and you are still treating this as some kind of game. There is so much you do not know.”

  “Then teach me!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands in frustration. “From now on, I want a say in which missions we undertake. I will continue to decipher codes when I receive them and I will break into offices, but I want to deliver the papers with you. I want to be a field agent and your partner.”

  “No,” Jonathon said flatly. “Women, much less girls, cannot be agents. You are the daughter of a duke and you must abide by certain rules. I am sorry, Eliza, but that is the way it is.”

  “I will turn eighteen next week, and I have access to the inheritance that Grandmother left me. It is enough money that I can live comfortably for the rest of my life, and I do not care one whit for society and its rules.”

  “Why are you acting so irrationally?” Jonathon asked in confusion. "This is not like you at all.”

  Eliza smirked at her brother. “I have been working as an unofficial agent for almost a year now, deciphering codes and stealing information all over Europe. Whether you will admit it or not, I may as well already consider myself a field agent. I just want to accompany you when you meet other agents.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “And why not?” she challenged.

  “Because you are too valuable to be wasted in the field!”

  Eliza was taken aback at this. “What do you mean?”

  Jonathon started pacing in front of her. “Your mind is what makes you such an asset to the Crown. You can decipher enemy codes from all over the world, and when you search offices, you do not need to remove any papers to make copies of them. You have singlehandedly determined the locations of half a dozen French frigates by creating a mathematical algorithm. And I could go on.” He stopped pacing and turned towards her. “Field agents we can find and train from ranks of the military and elsewhere, but you, Eliza, you are special. What you do, no one else can do.” His eyes had softened and now begged her to understand. “Uncle Charles, no, England cannot risk anyone learning about your abilities, so please just forget about endangering yourself and meeting other agents.”

  Eliza had never given much thought to her own value to the Crown; she knew her skills provided an important service, but Jonathon’s words made an impact on her. Still, she knew she must stand firm or risk losing this opportunity and perhaps her future altogether.

  “What if…” she bit her lip. “What if I stayed in the shadows like I did tonight?”

  Jonathon shook his head. “No. I will not be able to protect you if you are out of my sight.”

  Eliza glared at him. “I seem to recall someone else in need of protection tonight.”

  Jonathon collapsed onto the burgundy velvet sofa and leaned back with his hands over his face. “I owe you thanks for stopping that man, but that does not mean I want you following me around. You are my younger sister, for heaven’s sake!”

  Her temper flaring, she put her hands on her hips. “From now on, I will follow you every night you go out. I will stay hidden and observe unless something goes wrong, but then I will step in and protect you like I did tonight.”

  Jonathon moved his hands and gazed up at the white paneled ceiling, refusing to look at her. “I could lock you in your room.”

  Eliza gave him a smug smile. “You could try, but I would still follow you.”

  Jonathon rubbed his eyes and spoke with a strained voice. “Fine. I will write to Uncle Charles, but I know he will not like this. He might ask you to come home.”

  She shook her head adamantly. “There is nothing for me in England now that Kate is married to that vile Lord Camden, and Luke is managing the estate in Scotland.”

  Jonathon finally leaned forward and looked seriously at his sister. “My job is to keep you safe, and I cannot do that if you sneak around after me. You may have dangerous talents, but you are still my sister and I love you. I cannot bear to think of losing you.”

  Eliza sat down next to Jonathon on the sofa. “I cannot lose you either, but I know I can do more than what you and Uncle Charles permit me. You have seen me hunt game in Uncle Charles’ forest, and I am quite good at staying hidden. Besides, I can defend myself. My dagger is not the only weapon I can use,” she said confidently.

  Jonathon sighed. “You do realize you killed a man tonight?”

  Eliza’s gaze flicked away. “He was going to kill you.”

  Jonathon closed his eyes and leaned his head back again. “And what happens the next time? Are you prepared to continue killing in the name of the Crown?”

  Eliza bit her lip as she stared at the floor. Could she keep killing? Even though she had killed a man tonight, she did not mourn his death or feel any guilt. In truth, it hardly felt real. A shadowy enemy had tried to hurt her brother, and she had struck him down with no more hesitation than she would a wild dog or a poisonous snake. Perhaps all those years of hunting in her uncle’s forest had prepared her for working as a field agent? “Yes, I would kill again if I had to.”

  Jonathon’s mouth tightened into a grim line. He seemed about to say more on the subject, but instead he merely stated, “You will need to wear warmer clothes if you are to be running around at night.”

  If this was sarcasm, Eliza decided to ignore it. She tapped a finger on her mouth in contemplation. “I will find some trousers, a shirt, and some work boots. I am certain one of the maids can tailor them to fit me.”

  Jonathon suddenly placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “You must promise me that the moment you feel your life is in danger, you will stop being a field agent.”

  Eliza returned his intense gaze and nodded. “I promise.”

  Worry lines were etched between his brows as his eyes searched hers. “I am serious, Eliza. The minute being a field agent becomes too much for you to handle, you must leave this work immediately. Becoming distracted out there, even for a moment, could mean your death. Promise me.”

  “I promise, Jonathon,” she reassured him.

  Jonathon held her gaze for a moment longer, then dropped his hands in defeat. “I am not happy about this, Eliza. I hope you understand what you are asking.” He stood abruptly and departed the room without a backward glance.

  Staring after him for a moment, she retrieved her dagger from the smelly overcoat and walked towards her bedchamber. She could hardly believe she had stood up to Jonathon, but more importantly, she was amazed she had won.

  She gently placed the dagger under her pillow as she had for the past seven years. She always kept it hidden from Uncle Charles’ staff for fear they would take it away from her. Eliza did not see her father often, and the dagger let her pretend he was always near, protecting and guarding.

  Before climbing into bed, she walked over to the large window and stared into the night. The sky was filled with twinkling stars, and the words of William Shakespeare flowed into her mind. It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves. Tonight, she had changed her destiny. She would no longer be controlled and sheltered, but would lead a life of purpose and excitement.

  Tomorrow she would purchase men’s clothing and begin to accompany her brother on his missions. She would learn all she could from Jonathon and the other agents. Eliza smiled. She would become the best agent the Crown had ever seen. What a grand adventure this will be!

  1

  London, England, 1813

&n
bsp; Lady Elizabeth Beckett sat at her dressing table in her room, gazing at her reflection while Martha, her lady’s maid, finished weaving pearls through her hair. Rich chestnut brown hair was piled high on Eliza’s head and cascaded down her back as soft curls in the front framed high cheekbones, a pert nose, and full red lips… the effect was stunning, and she was quite pleased with her appearance tonight.

  She was aware that she had grown into an attractive woman, and her beauty and her lineage as the daughter of the Duke of Remington meant that dealing with suitors was a continuous chore. At first, such attentions had been flattering, but Eliza had become frustrated by the lack of sincere intentions towards her. Sadly, most of her suitors appeared to be more interested in a marriage of convenience than falling in love.

  After a few seasons, Eliza stopped trying to secure a love match and instead focused her energy on developing social connections that would benefit her. She had perfected her role as a jovial, carefree lady who enjoyed the frivolity of balls, house parties, and all types of social gatherings. She knew intelligent women were often derided as bluestockings by members of the ton, so she downplayed her intellect in conversation.

  The titled men she associated with wanted a woman that looked beautiful on their arm and was demure in nature, so she played to their vanity, laughing and flattering, biting back the witty retorts that filled her mind. As a result, she was a popular guest and secured invitations to many homes, which in turn allowed her to accomplish secret missions for the Crown.

  Eliza rested her chin on her hand and sighed. On the outside, she had everything… money, beauty, social standing, an endless stream of suitors… but inside she felt jaded. Her work as an agent brought her in regular contact with the worst members of society, and it always amazed her what men were willing to do to gain money and power, no matter who they were. Evil made no distinction based on class, and she had seen terrible things done by both poor and rich.

  Despite all this, serving as an agent of the Crown gave Eliza a measure of control over her own affairs that would be otherwise impossible. She relished the freedom and danger that her job afforded her, and unless she wanted to stop working as a spy, she must continue playing the carefree young noble. So, she needed to go to the ball tonight as planned.

  “You look beautiful, my lady.” Martha broke through her introspection.

  Eliza smiled up at her. “I only look beautiful because of your handiwork.” Standing, she walked over to her bed, where Martha had laid out a pair of long, white kid gloves.

  “Are you all right, my lady? You seem distracted,” Martha said. “Perhaps you are thinking of a certain gentleman?”

  Eliza stopped putting on her gloves and rolled her eyes. “I can assure you that I have not found any gentleman that has captured my attention.”

  “I know it is not my place,” Martha paused, then continued, “but you have seemed sad lately, and the bad dreams are becoming more frequent.”

  “I know, and I am sorry if I have kept you awake at night,” she sighed.

  Martha shook her head. “You misunderstand me, my lady. I simply mean to say that maybe it is time to entertain gentlemen callers again. They could take you to the opera or on carriage rides around Hyde Park, and it might lift your spirits.”

  Eliza wrinkled her nose at Martha’s suggestion. “I have entertained callers for four seasons, and I am tired of that charade. Most of those gentlemen went to my father after a few outings, more interested in how much my dowry was than whether I was happy. Men are not interested in love and faithfulness. They are only interested in the appearance of wedded bliss with their wives while they keep mistresses in a house across town.”

  “My lady! Not all men are so base. Your brother and uncle are not like that.”

  “True, but Jonathon is not married, and Uncle Charles still mourns the loss of his wife from twenty-five years ago. He must have loved her very much,” she said longingly.

  “I doubt Lord Beckett has even considered remarrying with his busy schedule,” Martha pointed out.

  Eliza paused to consider. Uncle Charles was indeed quite busy as the man responsible for all the agents of the Crown, a position of the highest trust that he had held for over two decades. “Perhaps you could say that my uncle is married to his job.”

  Martha smiled. “Well, I trust that your brother will continue being a good man when he finally decides to marry.”

  “I believe he will,” Eliza said, leaning against her bed. “But I really have no desire to marry. I do not want a man to dictate what I can and cannot do…” she stopped, her eyes wide. “I am so sorry, Martha! I cannot believe I said that to you. That was most insensitive.”

  Martha paled slightly and slowly sat down in a nearby chair. Her eyes focused on the floor. “I know you did not mean anything by that, my lady. If not for you, I would still be at the mercy of those vile men.”

  Eliza gazed compassionately upon her maid, one of the few people she considered a friend. She was saddened to recall how Martha had been tricked at an early age, sold to a man named Mr. Aaron Wade, and subjected to unspeakable degradation.

  “I can scarcely bear to think of what you had to endure for those five years.” She crouched down next to Martha’s chair. “I promise you that Mr. Wade will be brought to justice.”

  “Thank you.” Martha smiled gratefully at her employer and friend. “Now please stand up before you wrinkle that new gown. I do not want to have to press it before you go,” she said with a shaky laugh.

  Eliza stood and smoothed out her ball gown. She remembered how furious she was when Uncle Charles told her that she could not just kill Aaron Wade for his crimes. Her uncle wanted her to gather evidence against Mr. Wade, then arrest him for kidnapping and enslaving young women. She had tried to fight her uncle’s decision, but he was the Chief Spymaster, and his word was law.

  A loud knock snapped Eliza out of her dark thoughts. Martha rose to answer the door, but before she could reach it, the door burst open to reveal Lord Jonathon Beckett. Martha stiffened and lowered her eyes.

  “Jonathon, you cannot just barge in here! You scared Martha… again.” Eliza tilted her head towards the trembling maid.

  Walking slowly over to Martha with his hands in front of him, Jonathon moved quietly as though he were soothing a frightened horse. “I am terribly sorry, Martha. We have known each other for years now, and I should know better than to burst in like that.”

  The frightened maid kept her eyes lowered. “I apologize, my lord.”

  Jonathon smiled reassuringly. “You have nothing to apologize for. I hope you know that you are always safe and welcome here or in any of our homes.”

  Martha hesitantly met Jonathon’s eyes. “I do believe that.” She took a deep breath. “Old habits die hard, I’m afraid…” Martha’s voice trailed off.

  His face darkened, but he nodded to reassure her. “I understand.”

  After a moment, Martha turned to Eliza. “Can I do anything else for you before the ball, my lady?”

  Smiling fondly at her, Eliza replied, “No, Martha. You have already done enough. I will be home late tonight, but I will ring for you when I need to undress. Until then, go lie down or peruse a book from Jonathon’s library. I am certain he has one or two good books in there.” Eliza recalled that Martha was the daughter of a vicar and had been blessed to have a mother who taught her to read.

  “Actually, I have quite an impressive collection of books in my library. I do not know what any of them are, but I am told there are many impressive volumes,” Jonathon said.

  Eliza laughed. “Who told you that you have an impressive collection of books?”

  Jonathon did not entertain many visitors, so it was a safe guess that Father had told him that he had an impressive library. On Jonathon’s twenty-first birthday, Father had given him this townhouse on Grosvenor Street, a coveted address among the ton. The townhouse had been in the Beckett family for generations, and the library was filled with books collected o
ver the years by various family members. Unfortunately, Jonathon’s work as a diplomat and agent rarely permitted him to remain at home long enough to enjoy any leisure time in the library.

  Attempting to turn the conversation in another direction, Jonathon remarked, “Eliza, you are looking beautiful tonight. Perhaps you will receive another marriage proposal?”

  She merely shook her head at her brother, and Martha took the opportunity to excuse herself from the siblings and their banter. Eliza knew Jonathon was teasing her, but she fell silent as she thought again about marriage. She was in a unique position, even among nobles, in that she had access to her own fortune. A rarity for a woman, even the daughter of a noble, this freed her from the necessity of finding a wealthy husband to secure her future.

  More importantly, this freedom had also allowed Eliza to develop into one of the most successful agents in the service of the Crown. Jonathon and Uncle Charles, who had recruited her in the first place, may have been the only two people in England who knew that she worked as an agent, but hundreds in Europe and beyond told tales of the notorious spy known as Shadow. Shadow’s legend had grown over the past several years, though Eliza doubted anyone suspected that she was a woman; agents had always been men who secretly served the Crown.

  She certainly enjoyed much about her lifestyle, both lifestyles, and the many advantages her wealth and position brought. Her father had never complained about bills he received for expensive ball gowns, and though she could have paid for them herself, she was content to let her father provide her with the latest fashions.

  Eliza was very pleased with her ball gown this evening. The servants had collected it earlier that day from the dressmaker, another splendid creation from the highly sought-after modiste Madame Lanchester. The pale gold and generous, rounded neckline of the gown served to accent her olive skin, while ground rubies were stitched along the net overlay of the muslin bodice.