be the type of mission that could get one shot and killed. Beau had been on plenty of those types of missions in France over the last few years.
No, this was a subtler mission, one that involved a good deal of acting, and if his friend Kendall happened to find a wife in the process, all the better. Meanwhile, there was no possibility Worthington would survive playing a servant for longer than forty-eight hours, even if he were in the stables pretending to be a groomsman. So, in addition to doing his job and possibly helping Kendall find a wife, Beau also stood to win a considerable amount of money if he was the last servant standing.
As the carriage rattled toward Clayton’s estate, Beau leaned back in his seat, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and pretended to sleep. By the time the fortnight was over, he fully intended to have uncovered the Bidassoa traitor and turned the filthy blackguard over to the authorities to be tried for disloyalty to the Crown.
It was only a bit of playacting at a summer house party, after all. How difficult could it possibly be?
Chapter Two
Viscount Clayton’s Country Estate,
Devon, August 1814
Miss Marianne Notley stared at the costly gowns, gloves, and other assorted accoutrements strewn about the bedchamber floor and sighed.
Her mistress, Lady Wilhelmina Copperpot, was nothing if not consistent. They’d only been at Lord Clayton’s house party for the better part of one day, yet her young mistress had already made a mess of her room.
The debutante tended to try on multiple articles of clothing and discard them like so much rubbish on the floor, waiting for Marianne, her lady’s maid, to pick them up and restore them to their rightful locations.
Marianne grabbed up the first gorgeous gown from the floor. It was ice-blue satin with delicate lace trimming around it. How she would have loved to wear something this beautiful even once in her life, let alone every day like Lady Wilhelmina did.
For a few fleeting moments, Marianne held the gown to her chest and looked down the length of it. She and her beloved Mama—God rest her soul—had pretended so many times. Marianne would fetch one of Mama’s old gowns from her wardrobe and dance around the room with it in front of her. Now, she glanced at herself in the cheval mirror across the bedchamber. She smiled and curtsied to an imaginary suitor. “Why yes, thank you, my lord. I should love to dance the waltz with you.”
She couldn’t help her laugh, but she quickly let the gown drop away from her neck, and folded it over her arm. There was no time for such silliness. She needed to return the gown to the wardrobe with all the other lovely gowns she would never wear. There was no use wanting what you could not have. And pretending that she was a debutante was certainly that.
Marianne had only been in the Copperpots’ employ since the start of the year. She’d been recommended to Lady Copperpot by Lady Courtney from Brighton. Marianne had grown up in Brighton and had known Lady Courtney her entire life. She was fortunate to count such a fine lady as her friend. Lady Courtney had known her Papa—God rest his soul. After Mama’s death, the fine lady had employed Marianne as a companion for the last five years until her own niece was of age and able to come from Surrey.
That left Marianne looking for work, and she’d scoured the papers from London until she found an advertisement for a lady’s maid for one Lady Wilhelmina Copperpot, who had just come of age.
Taking a position as a lady’s maid with one of the finest families in London was not something Marianne had ever imagined, but after asking Lady Courtney for a reference, Marianne found herself traveling to London less than a fortnight later to meet Lady Copperpot and her daughter Wilhelmina.
Marianne was only five years older than Lady Wilhelmina, but they could not have been more different. Lady Wilhelmina was tall and blond and frightened of things like bugs and horses. Marianne was short and red-haired and hadn’t found much that frightened her yet.
Marianne had been to London numerous times as Lady Courtney’s companion, but she’d never been privy to the comings and goings of a debutante until her acquaintance with Lady Wilhelmina.
It was certainly a social whirl. During the Season, the young lady had attended parties, balls, and dinners seemingly every night, and Marianne had been