devoted as much time and energy to devising alternatives as he did. And none of them had achieved his consistent level of success either.
Could he adjust his standards? Could he accept that others would approach their missions in a more haphazard manner? His jaw tightened at the mere idea of making such a compromise.
Perhaps he was asking himself the wrong question. What if he raised his expectations? What if he taught his network of spies how to search out and eliminate the failure points in their plans?
Some of his tension eased. This alternative was a good one. The more he turned it over in his mind, the more it appealed to him.
Being spymaster would bring other changes as well. Lord Cary had lived in London and maintained his broad network of spies from the comfort of his own home. He’d even been married. On most nights, the man had been fortunate enough to sleep in his own bed, and that was much more than could be said for Frederick. His assignments had taken him all over England and beyond.
Frederick tipped his head back against the leather chair. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect life. A master of spies— a manipulator of destiny. As he pictured himself in the role, a slow, satisfied smile spread across his face.
There was only one addition that could make this fantasy approach perfection.
Having Josephine by his side.
Seizing this opportunity could change his life.
§
A beam of early-morning sunlight pierced the window of the Ambridge Club and woke Frederick. As he stirred, one of the omnipresent footmen approached him. “May I offer you some tea? Breakfast is being served in the dining room.”
Frederick rubbed at his face with his left hand, momentarily disoriented by his surroundings. “What time is it?”
“Just past eight o’clock, sir.”
Frederick’s stomach clenched. He had an appointment at the Foreign Office this morning. “Blast it. I’ll be late. Send for a hackney.”
“Certainly, sir. I’ll fetch your coat and hat as well.”
A short time later, Frederick leaped out of his hackney and ran toward the front door of Woolsy House.
“Wait here,” he called to the driver without breaking stride. “I’ll be back in a moment.” His right hand burned like the devil, but he wouldn’t be able to replace the poultice— not if he wanted to meet Lord Cary on time.
He couldn’t regret staying at the Ambridge Club since he’d used the time he’d saved by not going home to examine the opportunity Lord Cary had offered him. Nor could he regret the brief hours of sleep he’d stolen there.
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised as he burst into the foyer— himself or Robert.
His brother gaped at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come in at this hour before.”
Frederick scowled. He couldn’t waste time assuaging his brother’s curiosity. Not if he wanted to be on time for his appointment with Lord Cary. “What concern is it of yours?” he asked in a brusque tone, intent on avoiding any further questions. He rushed toward the staircase, bumping his shoulder against Robert’s as he brushed past.
“I’ll wager this has something to do with Lady Harrington.”
Something cold and tight gathered in Frederick’s chest. By taking Josephine to his bed last weekend, he’d thoughtlessly exposed her to exactly this sort of assumption, and Robert’s careless words raked against his raw emotions. At this moment, he detested himself.
He spun on his brother with fury to find Robert smiling in an obnoxious and knowing way. He clenched his fists and then winced at the pain. “Have a care, brother. You should know better than to sully a lady’s name that way. I’m in a hurry right now, or I’d teach you some manners.” He took a deep breath, reining in his anger. It was only then that he realized Robert was preparing to leave the house as well. His brows drew together as his curiosity grabbed hold of him. “Where are you going at such an early
Could he adjust his standards? Could he accept that others would approach their missions in a more haphazard manner? His jaw tightened at the mere idea of making such a compromise.
Perhaps he was asking himself the wrong question. What if he raised his expectations? What if he taught his network of spies how to search out and eliminate the failure points in their plans?
Some of his tension eased. This alternative was a good one. The more he turned it over in his mind, the more it appealed to him.
Being spymaster would bring other changes as well. Lord Cary had lived in London and maintained his broad network of spies from the comfort of his own home. He’d even been married. On most nights, the man had been fortunate enough to sleep in his own bed, and that was much more than could be said for Frederick. His assignments had taken him all over England and beyond.
Frederick tipped his head back against the leather chair. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect life. A master of spies— a manipulator of destiny. As he pictured himself in the role, a slow, satisfied smile spread across his face.
There was only one addition that could make this fantasy approach perfection.
Having Josephine by his side.
Seizing this opportunity could change his life.
§
A beam of early-morning sunlight pierced the window of the Ambridge Club and woke Frederick. As he stirred, one of the omnipresent footmen approached him. “May I offer you some tea? Breakfast is being served in the dining room.”
Frederick rubbed at his face with his left hand, momentarily disoriented by his surroundings. “What time is it?”
“Just past eight o’clock, sir.”
Frederick’s stomach clenched. He had an appointment at the Foreign Office this morning. “Blast it. I’ll be late. Send for a hackney.”
“Certainly, sir. I’ll fetch your coat and hat as well.”
A short time later, Frederick leaped out of his hackney and ran toward the front door of Woolsy House.
“Wait here,” he called to the driver without breaking stride. “I’ll be back in a moment.” His right hand burned like the devil, but he wouldn’t be able to replace the poultice— not if he wanted to meet Lord Cary on time.
He couldn’t regret staying at the Ambridge Club since he’d used the time he’d saved by not going home to examine the opportunity Lord Cary had offered him. Nor could he regret the brief hours of sleep he’d stolen there.
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised as he burst into the foyer— himself or Robert.
His brother gaped at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come in at this hour before.”
Frederick scowled. He couldn’t waste time assuaging his brother’s curiosity. Not if he wanted to be on time for his appointment with Lord Cary. “What concern is it of yours?” he asked in a brusque tone, intent on avoiding any further questions. He rushed toward the staircase, bumping his shoulder against Robert’s as he brushed past.
“I’ll wager this has something to do with Lady Harrington.”
Something cold and tight gathered in Frederick’s chest. By taking Josephine to his bed last weekend, he’d thoughtlessly exposed her to exactly this sort of assumption, and Robert’s careless words raked against his raw emotions. At this moment, he detested himself.
He spun on his brother with fury to find Robert smiling in an obnoxious and knowing way. He clenched his fists and then winced at the pain. “Have a care, brother. You should know better than to sully a lady’s name that way. I’m in a hurry right now, or I’d teach you some manners.” He took a deep breath, reining in his anger. It was only then that he realized Robert was preparing to leave the house as well. His brows drew together as his curiosity grabbed hold of him. “Where are you going at such an early
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