who waited with a man she had never met before.
“There you are, Livy. I’ve been searching all over for you. I want you to meet Lord Wentworth, a good friend of mine,” said her father. He turned to a middle-aged, portly gentleman, one who had already lost most of his hair. “This is my daughter, Lady Olivia Fairchild.”
Olivia bit back a groan. “Happy to meet any friend of my father’s, sir.” Her eyes darted right and left, contemplating escape.
“Your father sings your praises, ma’am. I can see with my own eyes he speaks the truth, for you are beautiful. May I engage you for this next waltz?”
Her father glared at her, his eyes pointing to the gentleman in an unmistakable gesture. “Um, I’d be delighted.” She took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the floor, but kept scanning the crowd.
At the end of their waltz, Olivia curtseyed to her partner and hurried away. She vowed to burn her father’s ears for entertaining the idea that she would welcome an offer from such a ridiculous excuse for a man. Wentworth was as old as Father was, for heaven’s sake!
Olivia had almost given up hope of finding the object of her search when she saw him chatting with two matrons not ten steps away. She cleared her throat and waited for him to turn in her direction. “Viscount Sidmouth? What a pleasant surprise. I never thought to meet you here in this mad press of people.”
“Good evening, my dear. Having a good time?” The elderly gentleman’s words were courteous, but the look in his eyes told Olivia he had no idea who she was.
She tilted her head and offered a flirtatious smile. “Meeting you, sir, has made my evening wonderfully complete.”
Flattered, the viscount eyed her with approval. “Really? How so?”
“We met last summer at Lord and Lady Marshall’s garden party, but I’m not at all sure you recall it.”
“Of course I remember you. How could I forget such a beautiful young woman who flatters me?” The viscount was a slight gentleman with only a few strands left of his hair, yet his keen brown eyes hadn’t lost their sharp intelligence.
Olivia checked her grin. The poor man hadn’t a clue. “That day last summer, my lord, when you revealed to me your secret, was the best day of my life. It changed me forever. Believe me when I say that your brilliant plan has never once left my thoughts.”
The viscount tried to hide his puzzlement, but she gave him no time for reflection. She lowered her voice. “Trust me, my lord. My lips were sealed from that day to this. I revealed to no one your innovative plans. Of course, I was deeply honored to have you share your secret with me then. I only hope…”
She bent her head and examined her slippers, annoyed because they were beyond repair now that Lord Wentworth, unable to see beyond his protruding stomach, had ruined them with his clumsy feet.
Her eyes returned to the home secretary’s face. Should she shed a tear to advance her purpose, or would that be too theatrical? she wondered. She decided she shouldn’t. It might be overdoing it.
To her advantage, the home secretary was not too old to enjoy a harmless flirtation. “What is it you hope, my dear?”
Olivia looked around her. “Might we continue our conversation out on the terrace? The issue you spoke of to me is so sensitive, I’m sure you wouldn’t wish it to become common knowledge, my lord.” She took his arm and led him out, well aware that his eyes had glazed over. He still doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
She found an unoccupied marble bench out of earshot from inquisitive guests, took his hand and said, “First, let me thank you for arranging for me to be employed in your office sir. Of course, I’m very happy to be of service to you in any way I can. Indeed, my position is quite gratifying, but…”
“I gave you a position? What is it that you do in the home office, my dear?”
“I have been charged with handling secret documents, sir, but I yearn to give so much more of myself to my country. So much more.”
“You’ve placed me in a state of utter bewilderment, my dear. What on earth are you talking about?”
Her words rushed out like an avalanche. “I’m talking about your plan to train women as spies, of course. In truth, I have followed the progress of those plans, from the rebuilding of the property to the training program. I know it is already in place.”
The viscount eyed her with suspicion. “How do you know such a plan exists?”
“I came across the papers in the course of my work.”
His gray eyes smiled as an indulgent grandfather might to a child. “I’m not sure I understand you. What is it you’re really after, my dear?”
Olivia laughed, showering him with the musical sound of bells. “Ah. You have me there, my lord. I won’t lie to you, of all people. Like everyone else who petitions you, I want something from you.”
It was his turn to laugh. “No, no. I didn’t mean to imply that you are too forward.”
“Of course you didn’t.” She took a deep breath, looked both ways to make sure no one overheard her, and said, “Last summer at the Marshall garden party, you shared with me your desire to establish a program for women to be trained for clandestine work. A woman spy is a brilliant idea, if I may say so, sir. Will you honor your promise and assign me as one of the candidates, my lord?”
The viscount scratched his head. “Well, I…”
As if she hadn’t heard him, she continued, “To be in the forefront of such a bold program has become my life’s dream. You did promise you would consider me as a candidate for training, you know. May I hold your feet to the fire? Will you keep your word to me?”
“You wish to be a spy? An odd request, my dear. You can’t imagine how dangerous such an occupation can be. What put the idea into your pretty little head? You are much more suited to marriage and a family.”
Olivia now produced her single tear. To add weight to it, she sniffed. “My duty to my country comes before marriage and raising a family, my lord.”
“Now, now. No need to weep,” the home secretary said, squirming in his seat.
“Sorry, sir. It’s just that I feel so passionate about this. The first training class is about to begin…”
He paused in thought. “You will have to allow me time to give your request some serious consideration.”
“Then you’ll entertain it? Oh, thank you, sir. To me, that is clearly tantamount to a yes. I knew you would honor your word to me. A man who has been prime minister and now heads the even more important position of England’s home secretary, has earned his place in history, to be sure.”
Viscount Sidmouth had the look of a helpless bear whose foot was caught in a trap, but Olivia gave him no chance to wriggle out of it. “Be assured I shall reveal our conversation to no one, my lord. My lips are sealed.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Forgive me for taking such a liberty, my lord, but you do remind me of my beloved father, the Duke of Heatham. Do you know him?”
“Tony Fairchild?
