Free The Duchess and the Spy by Marly Mathews Page B

Isabella’s grandmother, Adaira, she has it, as did Isabella’s mother, Sandrine. Adaira had three children, Mary, Sandrine and her son, Robert. Sandrine had a brother named Robert, and married a Robert,” his mother laughed. “Now, Adaira’s son is the Duke, and they say he has a bit of a magical touch. However, it has been rumoured that Isabella is the most gifted one in the family line. They haven’t had a woman like her in the family since the 17th century. So, she was taken back to France, eh? I know Duncan searched high and low for her and sent out people to find her, and her grandmother has done all that she could…they say that the family can’t affect their own destinies. It seems that is their curse. They can’t save themselves, or those they love.”
    “She was taken by her bastard uncle, Pierre Dubois.”
    “Now…are you just calling him a bastard or…”
    “No, he’s actually a bastard by birth, Mama. It seems he was the by-blow of Isabella’s grandfather.”
    “Ah, I understand. Oh, he must be a very bitter man.”
    “Perhaps. All I know is that he took Isabella away from all that she knew and loved.”
    They both turned their heads at the loud cacophony that came from the front entryway.
    “That must be Mary,” Jane sighed. “Remember, not a word.”
    He solemnly nodded his head. Jumping up, she carefully smoothed the wrinkles out of her morning muslin dress. She halted in mid-step as a footman swung the library door open to admit Jack. Jack was Christopher’s younger brother, and they both worked for the same secret branch of the government. Christopher was known as The Wolf, and Jack was known as The Falcon.
    “Jack, I wasn’t expecting you,” Jane exclaimed. She dashed toward him.
    “Yes, I know, Mama. I am here to see Christopher. I am afraid it concerns a secret matter, only for his ears.”
    Jane had once been an asset to the Crown, but she’d been out of that life for quite some time.
    “I see. Well, I shall give you a few minutes of privacy.” She wandered away to the other end of the large library.
    “I am here to tell you that the Whitehall wants you down in Dover as soon as possible. They still require a senior officer on the ground, and you have been selected. The French are training better spies, and they’ve nearly been the undoing of us. If we allow any more crucial intelligence to be leaked to the enemy, we may as well pack it in. Fortune favours us, as we’ve gotten wind of some new developments, and we’ve received a tip off that one of their newest assets, was being ferried across on The Bastille , problem is it looks as if there are no survivors.”
    He couldn’t talk, he nearly couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be dead.
    “You look like you’re half dead, Christopher. What’s got you so rattled?”
    “I…Isabella…she was probably the asset that was on that ship. Oh, dear God.” He couldn’t articulate anything else. He’d been struck down by the thought of vibrant Isabella dead. She’d been so alive…so haughty—so regal. So damn beautiful, and now…now she was lost to the sea. “She’s a survivor, though, isn’t she? She could have made it. She is a witch, after all.”
    “Mama,” Jack called. “I think Christopher has gone straight to Bedlam.”
    Jane joined them, and passed her hand over his face, seeking to bring him back to the here and now.
    “What did you tell him that has unsettled him so? He’s glassy eyed. He was already shattered with the news of Jason’s demise.”
    “Isabella De Clermont. It seems she is dead as well.”
    “Oh, God. Keep your voice down…if Mary were to come in now and hear you…no, I won’t hear of it. You will not tell her that her niece is dead until you know for certain, is that clear, Jack?”
    “Yes, Mama.”
    “Their family…their family has suffered enough. Oh, poor Duncan. If he’s lost his only son, and Isabella as well,” she clapped her hand over her mouth.