“I know,” Roswell responded. “Kendrick isn’t worried, though. He thinks Caleb might have gone undercover in the assignment he was working on.”
“Can you tell us what he was working on?” Fredrick asked.
Roswell’s eyes held regret. “I’m afraid I can’t, at least, not yet,” he said. “Did Caleb say anything to you that would cause concern on your part?”
“While you were on your wedding tour, Caleb spoke of visiting the rookeries and I could tell he looked troubled. He even looked slightly disheveled if you could imagine,” Fredrick revealed. “I should have followed him, or offered some assistance, but I was dealing with the attempts on Harred’s life at the time.”
A server arrived at the table and addressed Roswell. “May I get you something to drink, my lord?”
Roswell glanced at Fredrick’s teacup before saying, “I will just have a cup of tea.”
“Very good,” the server said before he walked off to do his bidding.
As Greydon brought the glass up to his lips, he remarked, “You must be worried if you aren’t drinking.”
“I need a clear head,” Roswell said. “I have no choice but to go into the rookeries tonight and search for Caleb.”
“That is like searching for a needle in a haystack,” Fredrick advised. “Surely Caleb gave some indication as to where he has gone.”
Roswell knitted his brow. “He might have, but I have been so distracted by Anette as of late that I might have missed what was right in front of me.”
“That is hardly your fault since you two are still newlyweds,” Greydon said. “If it would help, I can ask around and see if anyone knows anything about Caleb.”
“I would greatly appreciate that but do so discreetly,” Roswell urged.
Greydon pushed the empty glass away from him. “That won’t be an issue,” he assured. “My informants are paid well for their silence.”
“Kendrick did want me to remind you both that there is a place for you at the agency,” Roswell said. “We are shorthanded and could always use the help.”
Fredrick no more wanted to be a spy again than he wanted a thorn in his boot. It was a life that he had left behind when he had left the Continent. He had been one of Wellington’s spies and that had taken a great toll on him. What he was forced to do… no, he couldn’t do that again.
Wellington had sent him home to care for his ailing mother and that is what he intended to do. The spy life was behind him. It had to be, for his sanity’s sake.
“Does your silence mean you are considering it?” Roswell asked.
Fredrick shook his head. “My answer is no.”
Roswell looked disappointed. “I expected as much, but I was hopeful that you would reconsider.” He shifted his gaze towards Greydon. “Dare I hope you want to be an agent?”
“Enid and I discussed it and we thought it was best if I focused on running the estate,” Greydon said. “I already have far too many secrets.”
The server came and placed a cup of tea in front of Roswell and asked, “Will there be anything else, my lord?”
“No, thank you,” Roswell said as he reached for the cup of tea.
After the server walked away, Greydon pushed back his seat and rose. “It is best if I depart. I find that I miss Enid.”
Fredrick watched as Greydon headed for the main door and asked, “Do all men turn into love-craved fools after they get married?”
“Only the lucky ones that are fortunate enough to marry their true loves,” Roswell replied. “Speaking of which, where is your wife?”
Fredrick huffed. “I have no desire to take a wife.”
“I said something similar until I managed to convince Anette to marry me.”
“Yes, well, you had been in love with Anette since we were young,” Fredrick said. “It was no surprise to me that you two ended up together.”
Roswell took a sip of his tea before saying, “You must trust me when I say that a wife is a good thing.”
