Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“No, Gabriel. You are trying to manage. It’s what you always do, and Lord Benedict found it incredibly useful during war. But London requires different skills.”
“Logistics are the same the world over. Someone wants something, someone sells it. I’ll find her a place to work, she’ll obey or find herself restricted. Indeed, she has already agreed to it.”
“Then why do you storm your mother’s house and leave angry?
She does not know where Miss Caddick is.
She would have said. Madame Florina as well.
” He gripped Gabriel’s arm and tugged him around.
Gabe could have fought the motions, but he was at the end of his rope and would love an excuse to hit something, even Lord Nathaniel.
“What is it you fear? Is she truly missing?”
“Her servants were much too casual for her to have disappeared. Things are running as usual for her which means she is off being a midwife somewhere.”
“Then you do not fear for her safety.”
“No more than usual.”
“And yet you are as unmoored as I have ever seen you.”
The man was much too perceptive. That was a good quality for a spy, but an incredibly useless one right now. “Point your nose somewhere else,” he growled.
The man obliged. He held up his hands, turned to face ahead, and matched his pace with Gabriel’s.
Then he did what he did best. He remained silent while his prodigious brain worked through the possibilities.
It wouldn’t take him long to ferret out the truth—that Gabriel spent his nights dreaming about Janelle—and that was something he couldn’t allow.
“I am frustrated with being kept out of the action,” he lied. “Lord Benedict has made it clear that I am to remain here arranging the wedding and dancing attendance upon his future wife. I am a military man most comfortable in a war.” He gestured vaguely to the city. “London life is not for me.”
“The military has done a great deal for you. It gave you purpose, time to mature, and an obvious enemy. But we are no longer at war, Major.”
“Napoleon will not go away so easily. And the diplomat’s game is a good one.”
“No, it’s not. Not for you. You’re an abysmal liar.”
Gabriel snorted. “That is not true.”
“You’re an abysmal liar to one who knows how to see.
” He shook his head. “You’re straightforward, loyal to a fault, and wouldn’t dishonor yourself or anyone else without first slitting your own wrists.
” His steps slowed as he turned again to face Gabriel.
“And you have the look of someone whose honor is strained to breaking.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. My duty has never been clearer.”
“And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Oh Gabriel, there’s only one thing that trumps your honor. It’s love, isn’t it? You’re in love with someone you shouldn’t be.”
Gabriel tightened his stance until his back creaked from the effort. “This conversation is concluded,” he snapped.
Lord Nathaniel snorted. “As if that makes the least bit of difference. I’ve called out the truth now.
You won’t hide from it because that’s not in your nature.
The question now is, which will win? Love or honor?
With anybody else, I’d put my money on love.
We all have stiff upper lips until our heart truly engages.
Once that happens, we’re lost.” He grinned.
“I should know. That was exactly the way with me.”
“I do not care for one of your silly romantic tales.”
He shook his head, blithely continuing as if Gabriel hadn’t spoken. “But you, Major, are cut from a different cloth. You’ve learned, thanks to your dear old mum, that loving the wrong woman or the wrong way is a waste of time. So you gave your heart to the Crown and that was that. Until now.”
“My heart is exactly where it’s always been.”
The man chuckled. “Abysmal liar.” Then he held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll stop pestering you. Sounds like you have a difficult choice ahead, and you’re not one to sort it out with a friend.”
No, he absolutely was not. But that didn’t stop him from asking a question. “I think, mayhaps, you’re talking more about yourself than me. I’ve never seen you lounge in my mother’s drawing room before and certainly not with a ginger-haired girl more stupid than a lump of coal.”
“I was waiting for you.”
“No, you weren’t. What ginger girl has you questioning your loyalties?” If their best spy among the upper crust had just adjusted his loyalties, then Lord Benedict needed to know. But in this, Nathaniel proved wilier than Gabriel. His smile was slow as his body shifted into a more predatory lean.
“Not a change in loyalties, my friend. Merely a very interesting little game. My wife wants to join me in this work, so we have set each other a task.”
Gabriel grimaced. He knew Lady Rebecca had talent—she’d already proved as much—but he was always against putting women in danger. “What task? And is it connected to my mother?”
Nathaniel jolted. “What? No. At least not in the usual way.” Then he grinned. “Never fear, Lord Benedict was the one who suggested the wager. We have his complete approval.”
“That’s not as reassuring as you think.”
His friend’s expression tightened. “I assure you, Rebecca is not at risk.”
Which meant that Nate was. Two spies in one couple could be an enormous asset, but it also split loyalties. Did one serve the Crown? Or one’s lady wife? It was clear that Nate had chosen his wife. But it was equally clear that Benedict wanted to use Lady Rebecca anyway.
And what could Gabriel say to that? Nothing except, “Be careful. London can be a dangerous playground.”
Nate’s expression softened. “It’s what she wants. And so I will do what I can to support her.” Then he winked. “At least until she’s pregnant. Then I shall do everything in my power to make her and my child happy safe at home.”
That was the truest thing he’d ever heard the man say. And so he wished him well. “Go find your lady at the ball. And then—”
“I shall whisk her away to work on that babe.” He lifted up his hand in a jaunty wave. “Good evening, Major.”
The man didn’t wait for a response but melted into the surrounding darkness as if he truly was a jaguar hunting through the urban jungle.
Not for the first time, Gabriel wondered what would push an aristocratic man into the spy game.
Something drove the man, and it was more than boredom and deeper than simple patriotism.
It was a puzzle for sure, but not one that Gabriel could solve tonight. He gave it a good try, though, because it kept him from facing his own problem. Unfortunately, Lord Nathaniel was correct. He’d named the question exactly, and once voiced, Gabriel had to answer.
Honor or love?
When faced with that choice, honor must always win. No one could truly love the dishonorable, so the question was moot. There was no way to choose love.
Right?
Right.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged his way home.