The Spymaster's Daughter by Jeane Westin Read Free Book Online

tooth cloths from France. “I truly wish I could do more for your comfort, my lady.”
    â€œYou could tell me about the special duties you perform for my father.”
    His gaze became cautious and his voice dropped to little more than a murmur she strained to hear. “What do you wish to know?”
    â€œAre you an intelligencer? What did you do in France? Do you know Thomas Phelippes, the cipherer?” She pulled the
Steganographia
from the pocket under her kirtle. “I study this at every opportunity, and I long to talk with Dr. Dee about his grille ciphers. Do you know them? Do you know him?” She ran out of breath before she ran out of questions.
    â€œMy lady, you have a great curiosity.”
    He did not smile, but answered her seriously. She liked him the better for that.
    â€œYes, I have read Trithemius,” he said. “I know Dr. Dee and Thomas Phelippes. As to my work, I cannot discuss that, as you must know, but I have your father’s trust or he would not have made me courier to our Paris embassy…or have placed me in your service.”
    She held up the
Steganographia
. “You’ve read this book?”
    â€œAye. In the Latin, my lady.”
    She was startled.
    â€œI see that surprises you.”
    â€œA little,” she admitted, rather than tell an obvious untruth. But his knowledge of Latin was unusual. A servant who was educated above even some with noble titles was…well, unheard-of. There was no way to question him without prying, and he was already looking at her with some amazement.
    â€œLady Frances, please you, allow me…if your father had a son with such a questioning mind, I would have little employment.”
    He was trying to be kind, but she would not have it. “Master Pauley, as you see, my father has a daughter with such a mind and a longing for knowledge and occupation.” Her voice was too loud, so she softened it, not wishing to awaken Jennet to certain reproof. “That is, if he would but recognize that I can reason and would put my gift to good use.”
    â€œI see that you, like every man, want your talent to be recognized.”
    She sensed that he had left something unsaid.
And a lack overlooked.
His leg and his low birth had hindered him, as being a woman had limited her life. She did not speak the thought, or need to. She saw in his steady gaze that Robert Pauley could see and understood.
    R obert tried to keep his gaze on the passing countryside, but he could think of nothing but the young woman who sat across from him. How could her husband seek the reluctant and overused favors of Lady Rich, when he had this astonishingly beautiful and intelligent woman to wife? He wanted to touch her to satisfy his curiosity about her skin. Was it as soft as it looked, or was there steel there, the same steel that flashed from her eyes when she spoke of ciphering?
    Her mouth, even when set in anger, had a touch of amusement showing in the way it turned up above a pointed chin. Her high forehead was partly covered with very dark curls blown about into a most becoming tangle above large, pale, clear gray eyes with dreams locked inside. She did not wear the white Mask of Youth or the red wig that were so fashionable, but she was all the more beautiful for being herself. He realized that he was staring fully at her now, and abruptly ruled his face into that of a polite servant, although he had never properly managed that downcast gaze.
    â€œMy lady, the court will be very lively in the next months. The Earl of Essex is attending upon the queen.” He hesitated, wondering whether he should tell her that her husband’s lover would come to court at Christmastide, and decided the lady Frances should not be taken by surprise. It was in his power to keep her from the humiliation that the court would anticipate seeing in her face. “And I understand the Baroness Rich will be appearing before Her Majesty with the Earl of