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This was serious, she thought as she pumped her legs, climbing the seemingly endless stairs to the next floor. She couldn’t tell Preston about William’s behavior in the past as she couldn’t face him thinking so poorly of her for reading such a book at a young age.

Her only option to avoid William and ensure he wouldn’t blackmail her into marrying him was to find Spencer as soon as possible. Not only to protect her, but also to save Spencer from whatever mortal danger he may be facing.

And to locate him, she needed to go to Nathaniel at the Admiralty and ask him to help her find information on where Spencer could be and what could have happened to him.

And she needed to do that right away.

She stopped on the stairs and looked down. What better time than when she felt “unwell” and they would leave her alone to recover? She turned around and descended the stairs, sneaking out of the house before even Teanby, their butler, would notice.

2

As eight pairs of male eyes landed on Calliope, she wondered for the first time if, perhaps, she had made a mistake coming to the Admiralty alone. The low, male rumble of laughter and talk had gone silent when she’d opened the Conscription Office door.

All of them were quite dashing, dressed in dark navy uniforms with golden braids. Two sat at large mahogany desks covered with papers, inkwells, and heaps of ledgers. Six others gathered in a group in the aisle between two rows of desks, some standing, some leaning against the tabletops.

Calliope pressed out a confident smile, throwing a quick glance over the large room.

The walls were adorned with charts and flags and oil portraits of naval heroes and commanders, and the windows offered a view of the busy streets outside. The smell of ink and paper and male sweat filled Calliope’s nostrils. Three large bookcases were crowded with leather tomes and nautical instruments like sextants, compasses, and telescopes. Several ship models stood on the shelves.

She must be the sole female in the huge building, where navy soldiers and officers lived in barracks, trained, ate, slept, and did other manly things. The thought made her stomach quiver with uneasiness.

Damnation. She’d been in such a hurry to get away from William and resolve the problem of his marriage intentions that she had been quite impulsive. She shouldn’t have come alone, after all. An unmarried lady without a chaperone… If this came out, it would damage her reputation in the ton and harm her family’s reputation, as well.

On the one hand, damaging her prospects could play well for her, as it would make William less inclined to pursue her. And she didn’t care about her marriage prospects in any event—she would never rely on a man or trust someone enough to give them control over her life.

However, a poor reputation would mean exclusion from important social circles, and that would be highly inconvenient once she would open her investigative agency and would need easy access to exclusive information.

But however risky this was, coming here alone, she couldn’t wait any longer to recover Spencer.

Boots heels clicked against marble floor as officers stood at attention, and the relaxed faces changed into polite social masks hiding the questions underneath.

“May I help you, my lady?” asked one of the officers. “Are you lost? Is your husband…or your chaperone…somewhere near?”

Her gaze dropped to the one man who wasn’t paying her any attention, and her whole being melted, goddamn it, just as it had a few days ago at the Royal Navy ball when he’d danced a waltz with her, and she’d been in his strong, muscular embrace, inhaling his scent.

What a stark contrast from William.

Nathaniel Fitzgerald, Duke of Kelford, sat at a desk and kept scribbling with his pen over paper. His golden hair was gathered in a tail at the base of his head, just as it had been at the ball a few days ago, his broad shoulders like boulders as he wrote. His chiseled face made her wonder for a fleeting moment if he was not a Greek statue come to life.

Back at the ball, his eyes had been on her as they had danced…it was like being in the presence of a sun that had shone just for her. The timbre of his voice…the way he had talked to her…it was as though no one else existed for him.

But she knew better than to fall for those charms. He was a rake. Her brothers had warned her about him, and they were right. He probably talked like that with every woman, with that velvety, deep voice as smooth as the best French brandy.

“My lady?” asked the officer, and she reluctantly tore her eyes off Kelford.

Calliope squared her shoulders, looking straight into the officer’s eyes. Perhaps William had shaken her, but she needed to remind herself she was more than a cowering little girl. She was fearless. She was about to start a business, and she was ready to turn over the world to find her brother.

She thought quickly. None of them, besides Kelford, knew who she was or even if she was married, or indeed, with a chaperone.

“I’m not lost,” she said with her head high. “And my chaperone—”

She was just about to say her chaperone was going to join her when another officer, as tall as a column, leaned down to his friends and murmured, “Yet another one can’t stay away from Kelford.”

Her cheeks blazed. Of course Kelford was a charmer, and he’d never be interested in someone like her. She was probably just a lady to toy with, to see how quickly he could seduce a bluestocking. She’d rather spend her time with a good book than dancing quadrilles at balls, walking on Bond Street or in Hyde Park, trying to be seen and noticed.

At that, Kelford raised his head and their eyes met. A mixture of expressions flitted across his face. Pleasant surprise. Puzzlement. Then, finally, extreme displeasure.

He rose from his desk, tall and majestic, with his golden hair and the braids of his uniform a striking contrast against the dark navy of his coat.