Free Brenda Hiatt by A Christmas Bride Page B

Noel’s letter? Tomorrow night she would see him at an embassy ball. Somehow, she had to discover what he had done with it.
    C AMILLA CHATTERED incessantly on the way to the ball, and though the majority of her comments were directed to Reginald, Holly found herself growing impatient. She needed a few moments of silence to plan her attack on Teasdale. Instead she was forced to listen to a recitation of Lady Broadhurst’s sins, the chiefest apparently being that she had dared to wear a gown similar to Camilla’s to last night’s musicale.
    The ride was short, and in less than ten minutes the carriage had drawn to a halt outside the Russian embassy. Countess Lieven greeted them at the head of the stairs, just as she had on that fateful night, nearly a month before, when Holly had first taken Teasdale into her confidence.
    “And here is my dear Reginald,” cooed the countess after exchanging pleasantries with Holly and the duchess. Reginald had become rather the darling of the ambassadorial circle in recent weeks. “Come, I have just obtained a new painting for the front parlour, and I wish to hear your opinion on it.”
    She led him away, and Camilla, never willing to allow her son long out of her sight, accompanied them, leaving Holly near the door. Before she could gather her thoughts, she saw Teasdale coming towards her. She would simply have to improvise.
    “Good evening, Mr. Teasdale,” she said brightly, willing her voice to remain steady. He must not guess that she knew. “I am so glad to have this moment to speak to you, for we have been sadly separated by the crowds at other affairs of late.”
    He stepped close to her. “Ah! You have discovered something, then?” he asked in a low voice.
    His expression now struck her as cunning rather than perceptive.
    “Indeed, no,” she replied hurriedly and was alarmed to hear a faint squeak in her own voice. “I was hoping that perhaps you had discovered something from that list I gave you. Our time is running out.”
    Teasdale regarded her intently. “As you say. But no, I fear the list gave me no clue as to the traitor’s identity.”
    “A pity. Do…do you still have it?” Holly held her breath.
    “I’m afraid not. Did you want it back? I assumed it was merely a copy, so I burned it. It was not a thing that should be allowed into the wrong hands, you know.”
    For a moment, she wondered if she could have been mistaken. Surely if he were guilty he would show some sign, some hesitancy in his manner? To test him, she said, with certain significance, “I would not wish that to happen, of course. That is why I asked for it.” She watched him closely as she spoke, and was rewarded by a flash of comprehension in his eyes. “You cannot blame me for being cautious.”
    “I blame you? Of course not, dear lady,” he replied smoothly. “However, I cannot promise that others would not.” He allowed that to sink in for a moment, before saying, with studied casualness, “I became a bit curious about your ‘distant cousin’ in France, my lady, and made a few enquiries. It appears that the relationship is somewhat closer than you led me to believe.”
    Desperately, Holly fought to retain her composure. “I cannot imagine what you mean, Mr. Teasdale.” Again, her voice showed an alarming tendency to squeak.
    “I think you can.” He spoke so softly now that she had to strain to hear him over the music and conversation around them. “Your brother is in a perilous position. His continued safety rests entirely in your hands.”
    “Vandover—” she began.
    “Vandover cannot help him, nor would he wish to. And I doubt you would wish him to learn of any of this. Were it discovered that his wife divulged classified information, it would be bad enough. But if it comes out that his own brother-in-law is a traitor, even now on French soil, his diplomatic career would be over and his proud name ruined. And should you feel compelled to tell Vandover, I fear your