Page 78 of After the Spy Seduces

“That, too. So the exchange had to go on as planned. I’m very good at copying my father’s handwriting, so I made a forgery of the diary and switched it out last night during the festival. I’d hoped that by the time Paxton realized he’d been had that Diana would be safely home and that he would be arrested. But his men were too quick.”

“Now they have Diana,” Kit murmured. “They’ll want to ransom her for the real diary.”

“And we’ll hand it over, just as they want. I’ve already sent messages to the Foreign Office in London to inform them of what’s happening.”

“So you’re not a traitor,” Kit drawled, his eyes narrowing. “Just a murderer.”

Morgan stiffened. “I had nothing to do with Fitch-Batten’s death.”

“You werethere, God damn you,” Kit muttered, his hands drawing up into fists at his sides.

“I was in that alley, but he was dead by the time I found him. Your partner was investigating routine communications, not knowing that Paxton had used those same channels himself to contact the French. Or that Fitch-Batten’s contacts were pointing him directly at Paxton. When the major learned of it, he wanted to silence any chance of being discovered, which meant killing Fitch-Batten.”

Or Kit, if he had been there as he should have been. With no warning that any of this had been going on, that the Foreign Office had been closing in upon Paxton and making him desperate enough to murder an operative, it so easilycouldhave been him.

“I had no option but to walk away. Doing anything else would have revealed my position and destroyed all that we’d put into motion. More good men would have died, others forced from their posts—I made the decision to remain silent, and I don’t regret it, knowing the alternative. It’s the same thing you would have done. Asanygood agent would have.” Morgan fixed a hard gaze on Kit. “Direct your anger at Paxton where it belongs. You’ll have your justice when we arrest him.”

“And Diana?” he demanded.

“Paxton’s holding her on a ship anchored in the harbor.” Morgan pointed a finger at the map. “We know exactly where she is, but we can’t get to her. If we try to take her by force, they’ll see us coming, raise anchor, and sail away.”

“Or kill her,” Kit added quietly.

“That, too. So we have to make Paxton bring her to us.” Morgan murmured as his eyes scanned the map, “And we use the diary to do it.”

“No.”Absolutely not. “I won’t make this into a trap for Paxton. I don’t give a damn if the French get away with the diary. This will be an honest exchange for Diana, that’s all. I willnotput her at risk.”

“Neither would I.”

“Then we’re clear on that point.” He placed his palms back onto the table and leaned toward Morgan. “Let’s be clear about something else, then, too. You don’t like me, and I sure as hell don’t like you.”

Morgan’s eyes narrowed for a beat, but the man wisely said nothing.

“But I will do whatever it takes to keep Diana safe, understand? Including handing you over to the French, if I have to.”

“Good. Because I would do no less with you.”

Clenching his jaw, Kit straightened. “Then call your men back. We have a rescue to plan.”

Chapter 24

Kit stood alone on the end of the empty pier and stared out across the blue-green water of the bay through the small spyglass. Overhead, seagulls rose and fell on the afternoon air, calling to each other and frantic to capture the small fish and shellfish carried into the harbor on the rising tide, while boats bobbed at anchor across the bay. Despite the sunshine, the sea breeze carried a small chill. It stirred his blond hair as he stood there hatless so his face would be easily seen and brushed his black greatcoat around his legs. Nothing else about him moved.

His eyes never left the little dinghy as the boy slowly rowed it across the harbor toward a ship anchored near the mouth of the harbor. The ship where the French were holding Diana. The lad’s red hair shined beneath his blue sailor’s cap and made it easier to gauge his distance as the boy conveyed the message from Kit that he’d been paid well to deliver.

I know that you have Diana Morgan.

The boat bumped into the hull of the ship as the boy finally reached it after half an hour’s rowing, with Kit standing there on the dock, unmoving, the entire time.

The lad called to the sailors on the deck and gestured for them to unfurl a rope ladder so he could climb up. Shouts were exchanged, but the boy didn’t give up and pressed the sailors again. But of course he did, because Kit had told him that he wouldn’t get paid unless he delivered the message to the men on the boat and brought back a response.

I am offering a trade—the diary for Miss Morgan.

Through the spyglass, Kit watched as the sailors onboard finally tossed a rope ladder over the side. The boy scurried up the swinging rope rungs like a creature born to the sea. When he reached the top, one of the sailors grabbed him by the back of the breeches and hauled him up and over the rail, to unceremoniously drop him onto the deck amid hoots and jeers.

The lad climbed to his feet and brushed himself off. Then he reached beneath his black peacoat to pull out the folded note. One of the sailors approached him quickly and snatched away the message. When he grabbed the boy by the collar to warn him about playing games, the boy jabbed a finger back toward land. Right at Kit, who didn’t lower the spyglass or look away.

I have the real diary. I have had it on me all along, not trusting you to keep to your word. I suspected a double-cross and so prepared a forgery, and that is what you did last night by approaching the woman without warning or notifying me. Now, I expect a proper exchange.