Instead, Maggie’s face sobered. “You always were close to your father. Of course I can give it to my brother. You mustn’t worry. He’ll see that Lord Aston gets it and he’ll make certain not to share your identity.”
“Thank you,” Hazel said.
Hazel hadn’t expected a response, but the very next day Maggie handed her a letter.
Dear Mr. Keen Decoder,
I was surprised when my footman handed me your message. I imagine it is indeed distressing when one’s brother lingers on the main section of the newspaper, though I must confess to not being gifted with any form of sibling. I was unaware French spies were using The Morning Herald for such nefarious activities, and my men are now inspecting the classified section with the full force of His Majesty’s Crown.
Yours,
Lord Titus Hailsham, Viscount Aston
Hazel’s mouth dropped open when she read the signature, and she immediately wrote back before she could lose her nerve.
Dear Lord Aston,
Thank you for your letter. I am happy to learn you found my decoding helpful. I should let you know that I am a miss and not a mister. I should be happy to help with any decoding in the future, should you require my assistance.
Yours,
Miss Keen Decoder
Then she hesitated and began to rewrite the letter, this time in a simple cipher. Her father had taught her how to write in code, but Lord Aston was the only person who might appreciate it.
Hazel’s heartbeat had quickened as she wrote the letter, and she refrained from signing her name. She knew Lord Aston. Everyone knew Lord Titus Aston. The man was at every ball. He was handsome and dashing, if you were the sort of woman who liked impossibly tall men with blond hair and steely grey eyes.
Of course Hazel belonged to that category of women. Her skin turned red in his presence, and mortifyingly, she had the distinct horror it notified him of her interest.
No, Lord Aston would never take her letter seriously if he knew her identity. No one took her seriously, because they would have to notice her to do so.
She’d regretted giving Maggie the letter at once. Lord Aston was busy. He didn’t need to decode letters from her. Why hadn’t she simply written him a note in the normal manner?
But then a new letter had arrived from him, also written in code, though a different one. She’d decoded it:
DEAR MISS KEEN DECODER,
It was a pleasure to decode something that does not involve enemy forces.
I have something that requires decoding. My cryptographers are working on it, but so far they have not been successful. I thought that this task might interest you.
I have enclosed it.
Yours,
Lord Aston
MY DEAR LORD ASTON,
I have enclosed the decoded material. You can always call on my services. I despise this horrid war and am eager to do my part.
Yours,
Miss Keen Decoder
DEAR MISS KEEN DECODER,
Thank you very much for your help. You have provided a vital service for England.
Am I not to know your actual name?
Yours,
Lord Aston
DEAR LORD ASTON,
If you knew my actual name, you could find me, and I am fond of my private life. My family would be scandalized if they found out we were writing.
Yours,
Miss Keen Decoder
DEAR MISS KEEN DECODER,
Am I to take it that you are a member of the ton? Am I writing to a matriarch who has successfully matched a slew of mamas and is now tackling Bonaparte?
Lord Aston
Hazel giggled when she read the letter and she set to work on answering it.
Dear Lord Aston,
I am afraid I am not nearly as old and wise as that. I have no children and no husband and a great deal of time.
Miss Keen Decoder
DEAR MISS KEEN DECODER,
I am most grateful you have focused on devoting your time to helping this country. I do wonder how you obtained your knowledge. Are all young women as adept at cyphers as you? Is it an essential part of hiding information from intrusive governesses? I am most intrigued.
Lord Aston
They continued to exchange letters. Sometimes Lord Aston enclosed things for her to decode, but sometimes the only thing for her to decode was his letter to her. Then, his letters were longer. Sometimes they made her giggle, though sometimes he would discuss his current favorite book and inquire on her opinions.
Yes, every letter she received from him was wonderful.
Except perhaps this letter:
Dear Miss Keen Decoder,
Our one-year anniversary of letter correspondence is approaching. Would you perhaps be interested in meeting? Anniversaries are best celebrated in person.
Yours,
Lord Aston
Hazel’s heartbeat quickened, and she read and reread the last sentence. Lord Aston wanted to meet her. The thought was impossible, though. Fortunately, she didn’t need to create an excuse. She already had a perfect one.
Dear Lord Aston,
Regretfully, I am spending the holidays in a small town in Northumberland. I have enclosed the address of the closest post office. I am happy to continue decoding any messages for you there. Please address any messages to Ophelia Davenport. It’s not my real name, of course, but one that I quite fancy having.
Yours,
Miss Keen Decoder
Hazel put down her quill and stared at the letter. She was glad she would be busy. She knew how to not see him.
If she saw him, he might recognize her as the wallflower who chatted only with other spinsters at balls. If she saw him, she would have to see disappointment move over his face, just as it had for every man George had introduced her to.
And yet somehow, her heart gnawed.
CHAPTER ONE
Titus Hailsham, Viscount Aston, made a point of never being spontaneous. It was a vow that had served him well. Generals could trust him not to march their soldiers to victory without his careful consideration and consultation with others.
Thus, he wasn’t disappointed his mysterious correspondent had brushed aside his request for a meeting. Disappointment wasn’t an emotion he felt. Or at least, it wasn’t an emotion he was supposed to feel. He certainly wasn’t thinking that the one time he’d succumbed to spontaneity he’d been rebuked. Not at all.
He’d enjoyed corresponding with the mysterious Miss Keen Decoder for the past year, and at times he’d felt...close to her. It was a peculiar sensation, one he was not prone to experiencing. Most people didn’t take pleasure in such intellectual tasks, like his many acquaintances who scoffed at the tall bookcases in his office or reminded him that school was over and he wasn’t competing to win the approval of some hoary-haired tutor with failing eyesight.
Sometimes he wondered whether he should simply have had people trail his second footman to see who his letter writer could be. Miss Keen Decoder had made it clear that she preferred anonymity, and since that was something Titus craved for himself, he had resisted the impulse to investigate.
He contemplated the letter. The village she’d mentioned looked familiar. Titus withdrew his map of Northumberland and searched until he found a tiny hamlet with the same name. A tiny hamlet right by the castle where Caspian Arundel, Duke of Concord, was currently stationed and where he had invited Titus to visit.