“Evie wants us there,” Lily said in her usual brusque manner, waving off Mary’s surprise. “I wrote to my godmother and told her I was interested in having a Season.OneSeason.” She rolled her eyes. “The Duchess was thrilled. I leave in two days.” She heaved a great sigh. “Apparently, I need an entirely new wardrobe, and only themodisteson Bruton Street will do.”
“They are very good,” Mary reassured her. Lily made a face. She did need a new wardrobe. Since she disliked shopping in general, her dresses were years out of fashion. It did not matter here in Derbyshire, but it would in London.
“Well, I am looking forward to my new wardrobe,” Josie said, tossing her head. A few more tendrils drifted down from her coiffure, which was already lopsided and falling.
Even in boy’s clothes, with the delicate features of her face, the ample curves of her body, and the honey blonde locks of her hair tumbling down to frame her face, she hardly looked boyish, although she did appear to be the hoyden she was. Her skin was tanned from the outdoors, her nails ragged, and her hands were callused from handling the reins. It was hard to imagine. Unlike Lily, she was the one who enjoyed shopping, fashion, and fripperies.
While Lily embraced being a bluestocking in every sense of the word, Josie lived to confound expectations.
“Are you only going for this Season, too?” Mary asked, amused.
“I suppose it depends on whether I manage to find a husband.” She shrugged nonchalantly.
Lily rolled her eyes, giving Mary a significant look. “Evie’s cousins are going to London for the Season this year as well.”
Ah ha. Josie’s sudden enthusiasm for London made more sense. She would not like it if Joseph left for London and came home with a bride.
“That has nothing to do with it.” Josie crossed her arms over her chest, scowling. “Evie asked me to go to London, so I shall.”
“For which I am very grateful,” said a teasing voice from the doorway.
“Evie!” They all squealed her name, turning and pouncing on the final member of their group.
Mary flung herself at Evie, wrapping her arms around her friend, only to lose her breath when the other two slammed into her from behind. They all hugged and squealed, girlish laughter filling the air. Finally, they were complete again, and Mary’s heart was full of warmth and happiness. She loved her aunt and uncle’s house and her cousins and their wives who were becoming her friends, but it was not the same as being with herbestfriends. It had been far too long since the four of them were together.
“What happened to your hair?” Evie asked, pulling away from the hug to inspect Mary’s head. As Mary was the shortest of them and Evie the tallest, she had a decent view. Mary groaned.
“Mrs. Biggins,” Josie and Lily said simultaneously, smirking at each other.
“It really is rather pretty,” Evie said, inspecting Mary’s blonde locks up close. Her own hair was such a dark brown, it appeared black until compared to Lily’s shiny raven locks.
“I would have thought blonde would wash you out, but there is still enough red to prevent that.” Josie nodded thoughtfully, joining Evie in her close inspection. “Will it help you find a husband?”
“I should hope not.” Mary wrinkled her nose, stepping away from her friends. “If a man only wants me for the color of my hair, he is not the man for me.”
“Well, at least you are sensible about it,” Lily muttered, casting a glance Josie’s way. Josie had once turned herself apple red standing in the sun, trying to turn her hair lighter after a dramatic picnic gathering where Joseph danced with theveryblonde Miss Sarah Winston. “I like your natural color best, though.”
“Why are we talking about my hair again instead of why Evie has called us together?” Mary asked, exasperated. “I want to know why she had me follow arakelast Season.”
“Yes, and I would like to know why you have had me hounding my contacts for information about the French and Russian delegations,” Lily said, moving to Mary’s desk to pick up what must be her correspondence. She was an inveterate pen pal to many influential and scholarly personages across Britain and the Continent.
Josie moved quickly to Mary’s bed, claiming a spot where she could comfortably lean against the headboard before realizing everyone was looking at her.
“What?”
“I am waiting to hear your complaint,” Evie said dryly, a wry smile lifting the edges of her lips. “Although I suppose you did not consider watching over my cousins to be a hardship.”
“Elijah was a bit of a trial, but they are used to me being around Camden Hall,” Josie said with an indifferent shrug that fooled none of them. Mary giggled.
Elijah was the eldest of Evie’s cousins and in Mary’s opinion, the most handsome.Notthat she wanted to marry him. He was far too high-handed in her opinion and always traveling. Unlike her parents, Mary was a homebody and did not want a marriage where she was always left behind. She had already experienced quite enough of that in her life. He and Josie were always butting heads, which was likely why she had set her sights on Joseph instead.
Lily sat at Mary’s desk, her hand on her papers, so Mary joined Josie on the bed while Evie stood before them. Evie had been the last to join their group of friends after her Uncle Oliver brought her to live with him when she was fourteen. An orphan, she was the only young woman in a household of men. She had been half wild after spending several years on the streets of London before her uncle had managed to find her. Looking at her now, in her stunning green walking dress that matched her eyes exactly, it was hard to believe she was the same person, but then, Evie was even better at transformations than Josie.
“As you all know, my Uncle Oliver is the spymaster for England,” Evie began formally, causing all of them to sit up. They were some of the few whodidknow, and only because Evie had told them a secret they were all sworn to take to their graves. They also knew Evie inserted herself into his business as much as possible, to her uncle’s and cousins’ chagrin.
“So, this is spy stuff?” Josie asked, sounding excited. Evie sent her a repressive look, and she subsided. Mary’s heart was beginning to beat faster—with excitement or anxiety, she wasn’t sure.
“I had hoped to leave you all out of this as much as possible,” Evie confessed with a sigh, then scowled. “Unfortunately, there are undercurrents at work, and I have been unable to work my way through them. Someone is playing a very long game, and I cannot see their end goal, and neither can my uncle.” Evie often spoke as if she and her Uncle Oliver shared the same mind, although her uncle was often not entirely aware of what his niece was up to.