“I told the both of you that I don’t give a damn about that. I promised to meet Jin and learn the information he has for the director that cannot be conveyed by post. That, after all, is why you are here.”

“So that you can then hasten to Alvamoor and send me back as courier to Gray with all the juicy details. Yes. I do recall.”

For several minutes only the sloshing of hooves and dripping of tree branches could be heard between them.

“And what of the lovely Lady Katherine?”

Leam reined in, drew the pistol out of his pack, and pointed it across the road. Yale leaned back comfortably in the saddle, his black’s delicate hooves splashing in the deep puddles as he passed by.

“You’ve got to cock it first, old man.”

“You’d like it if I shot you, wouldn’t you, Wyn? You’d be damned glad of it.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Leam pocketed the weapon and pressed his mount forward.

“She did not appear crestfallen to learn of your sudden departure,” the Welshman commented, “in the event that you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Cad.”

“You’re sounding more like Colin every day, Wyn. Take care.”

The Welshman chuckled. “My intended was not sorry to see me go either. Madame Roche, however, made it clear she expected both you and me back within the sennight. Lady Vale added her charming encouragement. Our host even extended a formal invitation. Why, with such a gracious urging, I could not resist. I vowed I would make it so.”

Leam peered at his friend.

Yale shrugged. “It seems I have grown accustomed to my fate.” He looked at Leam’s face and expelled a rare crack of laughter. “My pretended fate! Good Lord, Leam, it would be like marrying my sister.”

“You haven’t any sisters.”

“I do now.” He smiled slightly. “I have come to feel somewhat protective of the chit. Like I would of an unprofitable spaniel who is nevertheless too clever to put down.”

“And Lady Emily?”

“Informed me yesterday that if I were to kiss her hand one more time she will boil it in oil so that the next time I would be obliged to kiss festering pus.”

For the first time in ages, it seemed, Leam grinned.

“Just so,” his friend murmured.

“Then on to Wrexham with haste, so that you may return to Willows Hall and pull the remainder of the rug out from under Worthmore’s feet.”

But their sailor friend was not in Wrexham. Messengers had crossed paths. Jin was on his way to Willows Hall via Oswestry, and Leam and Wyn had missed him on the eastern road.

They spent the night in Wrexham, then as the temperature dropped and snow fell in light gusts once more, made their way south again along byways thick with icy mud. Assisting a pair of carters from a ditch amid the evergreen hills of the Welsh borderlands, Yale’s Cambridge drawl slid away, replaced by the rough Celtic lilt of his homeland. Leam barely understood a word the three Welshmen exchanged, but he didn’t begrudge it. His friend’s secrets were his own, as they had always been.

The snowfall increased, layering the soggy earth afresh. When the rooftop of Willows Hall glimmered on the hill in the distance, Leam’s chest tightened.

Lady Vale met them in the foyer as they removed coats and hats.

“Mr. Yale, we are happy you have returned in such short time. And my lord, it is an honor.”

Lady Emily appeared at the stair banister above. Her lips pursed. She pivoted about and bumped into Kitty coming onto the landing.

“I beg your pardon, Mar—” Kitty’s gaze flickered to the foyer, met his, and a flush rose to her cheeks so swiftly that even her quick palms could not cover it in time for Leam’s sake. Air filled his lungs for the first time in days. He bowed. The corner of her mouth tipped up, and Leam knew that returning had been his most foolish decision yet.

He would be a man twice damned, it seemed. He would throw himself beneath the wheels of the carriage and suffer the consequences.

Chapter 14

“Lord Blackwood!” The master of Willows Hall came from the corridor, followed by a surly Worthmore, his points drooping. “And Mr. Yale.” Lord Vale bowed with pretty grace. “Welcome back. How did you find the road in this dreadful weather?”

“Passable, sir, only in that it brought us quickly here,” Yale replied, casting a meaningful look toward the banister where his fausse amant hid behind her friend.

Lord Vale was all smiles. “Do go wash that mud from your boots and then join us in the parlor.”

He gestured toward the stair. “I have had a visit this morning from an acquaintance of yours, it seems.

A Mr. Seton of Liverpool. He has been most happy to wait upon your arrival, although we only hoped you would return so soon, and is now in the library.”

Leam ascended the steps and found himself facing the woman whose lips tasted like wood smoke and cherries.

“My lord,” she said smoothly, only a hint of pink remaining on her porcelain cheeks, “we did not expect to see you again so soon, or indeed at all.”

“The whelp needed tending.”

Her wood-smoke cherry lips twitched.

“Lady Marie Antoine.” Yale bowed deeply, peering around Kitty’s shoulder. “You are as lovely as ever.”

“Oh, be quiet. My mother and father and that fish-troll man have gone already.”

“But I must speak the truth, nonetheless.”

“You are abominable.”

“Your gratitude touches me deeply, ma’am.”

She narrowed her gaze. “You now expect I owe you something in return, don’t you? I had that thought while you were gone.”

“The lady spares a thought for me. Be still my heart.”

Lady Emily whirled about and with quick, firm steps disappeared along the corridor.

Kitty glanced after her. “I believe she is beginning to think you truly intend to offer for her.”

“I am all humility,” he replied with perfect amiability.

“Yes, I’d thought so. But she is a bit concerned.”

The Welshman’s mouth curved into a grin. She studied him for a moment.

“Sir, you have broken your promise to me. You said you would not tease her.” Her voice had altered, a hitch amid the smoothness. “Honestly, I do not know why I trusted you.” She turned her wide gray gaze on Leam. “I don’t know you from Adam, after all.”

Beneath the scrutiny of the thunderclouds, Leam’s throat went dry. She passed him and hurried down the stairs. For once, Yale did not utter a word.

As Leam crossed the library, Jinan stood and came toward him with a handshake.

“It’s been too long, Jin.”

“I trust you are well, Leam?” Jin settled back in a chair, at ease in the sumptuous apartment yet still slightly alien to it. The foreign, aristocratic cast of his sun-darkened features was at odds with his plain clothing, and his light eyes held sharp intelligence. Several years shy of Leam’s age, Jinan Seton had had the rule of himself before Leam had even learned English.

“I am as well as can be expected with Colin still nosing into everybody’s business,” Leam said, sitting as well.

“Yes. He sent me word shortly before you left London.”

“What? ”

“Rather, about what?” Yale said, entering. Jin stood but the Welshman waved off the formality and headed toward the sideboard.

Leam shook his head. “Goddamn it, Wyn, did you know Colin had been in touch with Jin already?”

“Did I know that our friend the viscount told a little white lie to get you involved in whatever business Jin has come to chat about with us? No. But I’m not surprised. Colin Gray always gets his man.”

Leam turned to the privateer. “Colin knew where you’ve been all along?”

Jin nodded. “Apparently he did not share that information with you. He did, however, send me interesting news and told me you would be coming my way.”

“You may as well let Jin tell us, Leam. Colin will find a way to get you involved later if you don’t at least appear to be curious now.” Yale filled three glasses with claret and carried them over.

Jin set his on the table. “The Home Office has had word from two separate sources that recently a merchant ship intended for Calcutta disappeared after leaving the port at Newcastle Upon Tyne.”

“Quite close to the Scottish border.” Yale lifted a brow. “Pirates or rebels?”

“As yet the owners of the vessel have not come forward with an insurance claim, so the cargo has yet to be disclosed. The informants seem to think Scottish rebels took it because they believed it carried cargo of particular value.”

“Cargo that could finance an insurrection against the British crown, presumably,” Yale supplied.

“Those pesky insurgents. What cargo of that value could be on its way to Calcutta? English woolens seem unlikely.”

“Rather, intelligence on British tactics in Bengal traveling under cover of commerce to disguise it,” Jin replied. “It is sometimes done to protect sensitive information also sent in duplicate on naval ships.”

“Aha.” Yale leaned back in his chair. “This intelligence is something that the French in the East Indies might be happy to have, I take it? What a pretty little circle of amity. Scottish rebels seeking French assistance and willing to trade English secrets abroad to assure that assistance.” The Welshman sipped his drink sparingly now. While working, he rarely indulged.

“Our director asked the Admiralty that I be given permission to board all ships, British and otherwise, in search of information,” Jin said.

“Did the Admiralty oblige?”