Chapter 1 #2
James tapped his finger on the letter, wishing he had found it sooner.
While it had sat undiscovered on the desk, he had wasted weeks chasing dead ends and pursuing the reckless ventures that had earned him Westmarch’s censure.
Now Henry’s list offered the first true path toward his killer, and James could not afford to lose it by acting rashly.
Defying his superior outright would not merely cost James his standing at the Home Office; it would cut him off from the only resources powerful enough to bring Henry’s killer to justice.
Westmarch might be only a decade older than James, but few men dared oppose him.
Obedience, however, did not require surrendering information before he understood what he held.
James would keep this letter to himself.
For now. If he approached Westmarch with nothing but aliases, a date, and suspicion, his superior would only sideline him further and assign the matter to another agent before James could verify a single name.
And James would not risk sending another man blindly into danger, not when he did not yet understand the extent of the threat. He had already made that mistake once.
He would begin alone, quietly gathering what intelligence he could, confirming the names, and determining whether the threat was as grave as he feared before involving anyone else.
Even so, he was not fool enough to believe he could dismantle a criminal network alone.
Before the Privy Council met, he would need Westmarch’s resources and considerable connections, which meant he had to follow his orders and earn his standing back by finding a wife.
He sighed. In Westmarch’s view, marriage was evidence of steadiness, restraint, and a man’s willingness to anchor himself to the world instead of courting danger as though he had nothing to lose.
James had already sworn he was done throwing himself headlong into peril, but Westmarch clearly had not believed him.
It seemed the only vow that would satisfy the man was the one James would make on his wedding day.
The timeline was now alarmingly tight. A mere five weeks.
He could not afford a delay or misstep and would have to insist on a quick wedding.
Everything depended on securing this marriage without drawing further scrutiny from his superior.
He reached into his coat pocket, feeling the weight of the special license he had already procured.
He had hoped Kate would agree to the match without waiting three weeks as the banns were read, but now that hope had become a necessity.
Barlow’s knock interrupted his thoughts. “Lord Rutherford to see you, my lord.”
As the door swung open, James adopted the disarming smile he always wore in company.
He probably did not need it with his closest and oldest friend, but the mask was a difficult habit to break.
He rose as Hugh crossed the room in a few quick strides, his grip firm on James’s shoulders as he took him in without a word.
“James, it’s good to see you.”
James crossed to the sideboard and poured brandy from the decanter.
“What brings you home? I thought you were still in London.” He passed a glass to Hugh as they settled into the leather armchairs that flanked the hearth.
In public they were Lord Brenton and Lord Rutherford, but in private, their closest circle of friends used first names, leaving titles only for society.
His service to the Crown over the last five years marked the only secret he had ever kept from Hugh.
“My plans were altered. I am only at home for the night, and then I am off to Sussex on some pressing business. Rest assured, I shall return for your wedding before I make my way back to London.” Hugh swirled the brandy in his glass, a wicked grin appearing.
“My parents told me of your letter. What manner of friend would I be if I did not keep you company on your last night of liberty before your betrothal is official?”
James raised an eyebrow. “Are you comparing an engagement to your sister with imprisonment?”
Hugh nearly choked on a sip of brandy. “No, nothing of the sort.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I only meant that your days of doing as you please are numbered now that you plan to marry. Duty and family and all that.” There was a wistfulness in his tone James had not heard before.
A response lodged in James’s throat, a denial he couldn’t quite voice.
Hugh’s brows shot upward at his silence. “Surely you of all people are not looking forward to such an existence.”
James was almost a year Hugh’s senior, but just then, a lifetime seemed to separate them. “It would appear I am ready for a change in circumstances.” The lie stung as it left his mouth.
Hugh let out a low whistle and raked his hand through his tousled blond hair. “You and Kate truly are a perfect match then. I cannot fathom why neither of you has ever raised an objection to this betrothal.”
“You believe she’ll accept my proposal, then?” James asked, half hoping she might refuse, even knowing it would dismantle all of his plans.
Hugh grinned. “I daresay my mother would have preferred more time to prepare a lavish wedding, so your request for an immediate ceremony came as a shock. However, my parents are overjoyed that you have finally come up to scratch.”
James turned his glass, the amber liquid catching the glow from the flickering hearth.
“As is my mother. She is visiting my aunt and uncle with Alice after celebrating Twelfth Night, and her response to my letter was more than enthusiastic.” James smiled at Hugh’s infectious laugh at that piece of news, but he still lacked the answer to his most pressing question.
“Tell me of Kate’s reaction. Has she expressed any hesitations?
I have no wish to force her into an arrangement she does not want.
” He had no choice in the matter, but he didn’t want the same for her.
It wasn’t that he had no intention to marry Kate someday. Because he had, in that vague and distant way one imagines a future too far off to feel real. But not like this. Not now. And certainly not on orders.
Hugh shrugged. “Kate hasn’t confided her feelings to me, but I don’t think she is as content as she pretends to be. She is always dutiful to our parents’ wishes, however. I cannot imagine this will be any different, especially since your betrothal is not an unexpected one.”
Dutiful? The word sat badly. The Kate he remembered had followed him on a chase through the blackberry briars, laughing and smiling until their legs were covered in scratches.
He pushed down a flicker of disappointment.
Perhaps it was for the best. If she had changed, she would be less likely to question his irregular hours, the bruises he often bore, or his frequent journeys to less than reputable establishments.
Hugh rose from his chair. “I am sorry to cut our visit short, but I must leave if I am to conclude all of my business and make it to your wedding on time.” Hugh flashed his irrepressible grin. “It will be soon, I presume?”
How was Hugh so blasted happy all of the time?
His friend’s relentless optimism had only faltered once during a brief spell last summer after returning home from a house party.
James had often teased Hugh about his tendency to see only the sun and overlook the shadows it left behind, but he was grateful.
It helped him forget his own troubles, if only for a brief time.
James rose. “If Kate accepts my proposal, I hope to have the wedding within the week. I was able to secure a special license from the Archbishop.”
“It doesn’t hurt to have friends in high places.” If Hugh meant to hide his cheeky smirk, he failed.
“He was my father’s acquaintance. And your sister being the daughter of a marquess was certainly no hindrance.”
Hugh dipped his head, conceding the point before his amusement faded. He fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket.
“I do have one favor to ask of you.”
“Name it, my friend.”
Hugh cleared his throat. “Keep an eye on Kate, will you?”
James’s eyebrows lifted. “You of all people should know that she will always be safe with me.”
“I know that,” Hugh said quickly, though his posture remained tense. “Just . . . be alert for anything unusual.”
The uncharacteristic gravity in his tone made James pause. “Is there a particular reason I should be concerned for her safety?”
Hugh blinked and gave a quick, reassuring smile. “No. No, of course not. I suppose I am merely being an anxious brother. Pray, forget I spoke of it.”
James shook off his unease and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Just be sure you return in one piece. I’d hate for my bride to be upset before the vows are even spoken.”
Hugh’s laughter followed him into the hall, and James sank back into his chair with a sigh. Spending time with those he loved was an exhausting and careful game of truth and omission. He suppressed the sudden urge to call Hugh back, to tell him who he was, the things he had done.
But ignorance was the only shield he could offer them.
His life in the service of the Crown was a burden he was destined to bear alone.
Were his secrets ever laid bare, his family would be cast out from polite society.
Worse, everyone close to him, friends and family, would become targets of the enemies he hunted.
He did not even have fellow agents who would understand, now that Henry was gone.
There was no formal network of spies, only powerful men who employed agents of their own.
Names were rarely shared. Questions, even less so.
Westmarch had alluded to a future network of trusted operatives, but that would take years to put in place.