“Why didn’t Kendrick come himself?” Fredrick asked.
Roswell looked amused by the question. “Kendrick is not one to leave his office, unless absolutely necessary.”
Fredrick had no desire to meet with the spymaster, but he was curious as to why Kendrick wished to meet with him. He hoped it wasn’t merely an attempt to recruit him as an agent. He didn’t want that life, at least not here in London. If he was still under Wellington, he would gladly continue working as a spy.
“I will meet with Kendrick, but only because I consider it a professional courtesy,” Fredrick said, rising.
“You want to go now?” Roswell asked, looking at the plate of untouched food in front of him.
Fredrick nodded. “I am not really hungry.”
Roswell leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. “This shouldn’t take too long, my love.”
“You always say that, my love biscuit,” Anette joked.
Fredrick should leave well enough alone, but he had to ask. “Why do you call Roswell ‘love biscuit’?”
“That is simple,” Anette said. “I love Roswell and I love biscuits. It is only natural for me to combine them.”
Well, he had asked. He shouldn’t have, but he had. And now he knew the answer and he felt dumber because of it.
Roswell came around the table. “We should go. The sooner we get there, the less temperamental Kendrick will be.”
Fredrick followed his brother towards the entry hall. He directed Carson to have the coach brought around front.
It was a short time later that they were traveling in the coach down the road.
Roswell’s gaze remained fixed on the open window, his brows furrowed in deep concentration.
Fredrick had to assume that Roswell’s deep worry was primarily due to Caleb’s situation, especially given their lack of any leads on his whereabouts. “We will find Caleb,” he assured him.
“I am beginning to question if that is true,” Roswell said, meeting his gaze. “Caleb has never disappeared for this long. I just can’t help but think he is in trouble, and I am doing nothing about it.”
“You are doing everything you can.”
“Which isn’t enough,” Roswell said, his voice rising. “It is not as if I can search all the rookeries looking for him. It is an impossible feat.”
Fredrick wanted to lie to his brother and tell him that everything would be all right, but he knew Roswell would see right through him. They both knew the odds of Caleb being found alive with every day that passed were becoming dire.
The coach came to a stop in front of a brown brick building situated on the outskirts of the fashionable part of Town. The exterior appeared in need of a fresh coat of paint, andthe cracked, disheveled windows added to its overall state of disrepair.
Fredrick lifted his brow. “This is where Kendrick operates from?”
“Our last building was compromised so we were forced to relocate,” Roswell explained as he stepped out of the coach.
As he went to stand by his brother on the pavement, Fredrick remarked, “This place looks abandoned.”
“Trust me,” Roswell said.
Fredrick trailed behind Roswell as they made their way to the main entrance and entered a dimly lit hall. A lone guard was positioned against the back wall, his gaze fixed on them with mild curiosity.
“Who is this bloke?” the guard asked.
Roswell smiled. “He is my brother.”
“Ah, so he is utterly useless as well,” the guard joked. “I don’t think the agency is prepared for two of you.”
“Kendrick requested Fredrick’s presence,” Roswell explained.
