To Wed a Scandalous Spy Read Online Free PDF Page A

lady's maid.
    Apparently, the girl's father and mother had died of fever several years ago. Young Willa had been left with no perceptible relatives, and the entire village had taken the girl in at the age of twelve.
    All around Nathaniel, said villagers now bustled. The innkeeper's wife tripped by with a smile on her face and her arms full of yellowed fabric. Despite the early hour, pints were raised again and again to congratulate the "happy couple." As mundane a setting as Nathaniel had ever seen.
    No, Nathaniel decided that Foster must have simply wanted a night in a soft bed and a pint of good ale on his journey. With a suppressed groan, Nathaniel rolled his head from side to side to ease the pounding. Nathaniel's own bed had been a grassy ditch, and the pint of ale, though tempting, must be refused. He was on duty.
    The Royal Four were always on duty.
    To be chosen as the Cobra was a distinction beyond price, and Nathaniel was honored to be thus entrusted with the fate of the nation, whether others knew it or not. The Four had been in place since the days of William the Conqueror and, through judicious influence and watchfulness, had steered England into the empire it currently was.
    The nutty scent of the ale wafted under Nathaniel's nose. It smelled delicious. Sadly, he put it aside. He was the Cobra. He was
not
the man his father thought him, not the light-minded wastrel he'd made pains to be regarded as.
    He was a man above greed, above politics, above self.
    And unfortunately, above ale, although he had never longed more for a pint. His head pounded unmercifully, his bones ached from his fall, and his life was about to change forever.
    Again.
    Today was his wedding day and he was to wed a stranger.
     
    "But he is a stranger to me! Do you genuinely expect me to wed him
today
—"
    The rest of Willa's protest was cut off as John Smith's wife, Moira, drew the elderly wedding gown over her head. Apparently they did expect her to. The old silk smelled of benzene and dust. Willa sneezed twice as soon as her head popped out.
    They stood in Moira and John's room, for in Willa's room her possessions were being packed with lightning speed.
    "There now, miss," Moira said soothingly. "He's a fine fellow. I can tell by the cut of him. He might even be as high as a lord. John says his horse is an expensive beast, and those boots were made special for him on Bond Street, mark my words. I've been to London, you'll remember. I know about these things."
    Willa didn't bother to remind Moira that her journey had been over twenty years ago and had lasted mere weeks. Even that little excursion was more than Willa had ever traveled, at least since she had come to Derryton as an infant on that same trek.
    Besides, Moira had been dining out on that story all these years, and in the woman's mind London had become a mystical place of gold-paved streets and confectioner shops on every corner. Surely it was even more fascinating than that.
    "But he could be anyone! A… a highwayman, or even a gypsy!"
    "Pish-posh. He's a fine and handsome gentleman. He knows his duty and he's willing to do right. Honorable, that one is. That means he's perfect for you. You're no common village lass, don't forget. You're as much a lady as any in London, by my way of thinking. Your dear mum certainly was. And didn't she look a treat in this gown?"
    Moira sniffled as she tugged the dress into place, and Willa regretted bringing up sad memories. Her mother
had
been a lady, no doubt about it, and Moira her loyal lady's maid until her death.
    The gown fit perfectly. Willa narrowed her eyes at her own image in the wavy mirror. Her mother had a been a slender lady, elegantly petite of bust and bottom. Quite the opposite of Willa herself. "Moira, how is it that the dress fits perfectly?"
    Moira busied herself with the folds of the skirts. "Oh, I let it out three years ago When I thought William Beckham might be the one."
    "Oh yes. Wills. Do you think he's regained the