“I don’t have access to Ambassadors, Sir Phillip, so I am a bit confused as to how I can help.”
“That is where your partner comes in.”
Partner?
“I have worked before with an agent who speaks, reads and writes seven languages. Fortunately for us, one of those languages is German.”
Seven languages? Bloody hell. The man must be a genius. Dante was lucky he handled English and a bit of French when pressed.
“Have you come up with a way the two of us can work together? If this agent speaks the language, where do I come in?”
Sir Phillip opened his mouth to answer when the door behind Dante opened. “Ah, here she is now.”
She? She? She?
Dante almost came up out of his chair. In fact, he did come up out of his chair since a lady had entered the room. This—agent—smiled at him and gracefully took the chair alongside him. She nodded at Sir Phillip and Dante continued to stand like a moron, gaping at her.
The woman was about his age. And beautiful. Shiny, deep brown hair had been fastened in a no-nonsense bun at the back of her neck. Her flower-trimmed straw hat was tied under her lovely chin with a wide net ribbon. Chocolate brown eyes viewed him, taking in his countenance and apparently finding him wanting.
The form-fitting blue and white striped dress went all the way up to her neck, with the sleeves down to her wrists. Unfortunately, she could have been naked for the reaction his body was having.
A slight smile decorated her plush mouth. She offered a delicate cough which startled him enough that he landed in his seat with a thump.
Sir Phillip cleared his throat. “Miss Lydia Sanford, may I make known to you Mr. Dante Rose.”
She reached her hand out. He looked at it for a few seconds as if it were a snake ready to strike.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Rose,” she said. Her voice was smooth as French brandy and lower than most young ladies’ her age.
“Dante?” Sir Phillip said.
He straightened and pulled himself together. He took Miss Sanford’s soft warm gloved hand in his and gave it a shake. He looked up into her face and she was still grinning at him.
This would not work. He turned to Sir Phillip. “I don’t understand. While I admit I am impressed that Miss Sanford can speak six languages—”
“seven,” Miss Sanford added in her melodious voice.
“—I don’t see how you intend for us to work together.”
Sir Phillip leaned back. “Miss Sanford is active in London’s Polite Society. She is invited to the best social events. Our Ambassador attends almost all of them. I firmly believe he is our man and meeting his contacts at those events. With the two of you attending as a courting couple, you will be in a position to do enough—snooping shall we say—to gather the information we need.”
Dante sprang from his chair as if shoved from behind. “A courting couple!”
Miss Sanford merely nodded at Sir Phillip as if this were all just fine and dandy with her. He on the other hand had no intention of presenting himself as a suitor to this woman. To any woman.
Sir Phillip looked up at him over the top of his spectacles. “Is there a problem, Mr. Rose?”
Shite. When Sir Phillip called him Mr. Rose, he knew he was in deep. None of the brothers had ever turned down an assignment since their father had also been an undercover agent and instilled in his sons the duty to serve their country in whatever way they could.
Dante ran his finger around the inside of his neckcloth which had grown tighter since this woman had entered the room. Why the devil couldn’t his partner be a man, or if it must be a woman, why not someone old enough to be his mother? Or grandmother?
And what the devil was the scent coming from her that smelled like flowers?
He cleared his throat. “It is merely that I have never worked with a woman before. In fact, if you recall, I rarely work with a partner.”
Miss Sanford leaned toward him. “I hope you don’t have concerns about working together simply because I am a woman?”
Should he be honest or lie? “Not at all, Miss Sanford.”