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Baldwin walked over to the chair in front of the desk and sat down. “The group of royalists that I had been working with discovered a credible threat against England,” he revealed.
“Which is?”
“A French spy is traveling to England to meet with a group of radicals who are secretly plotting a rebellion.”
Corbyn leaned forward in his seat. “What is this radical group called?”
“I am not entirely sure, but the informant managed to overhear that members of the group meet at Floyd’s Coffeehouse on Baker Street.”
“We have gone on much less,” Corbyn said with a bob of his head. “I will assign this case to another agent at once.”
“With all due respect, I am more than capable of completing this assignment.”
“That you are, but it is time for you to retire.”
Baldwin reared back slightly. “May I ask why?”
Corbyn gave him an understanding look. “We need you to take up your seat in the House of Lords and assume your place in Society.”
“Why is that?”
“These are troubling times, and we need an advocate in the House of Lords.”
“For anything in particular?”
Reaching for the newspaper on the corner of his desk, Corbyn held it up. “Lord Desmond has just introduced a bill to establish an agency within the Home Office that will be responsible for the overseeing of the workhouses.”
“Did he state why?”
“The Home Office is responsible for safeguarding the rights and liberties of all the people, and he feels the parishes are not doing a good enough job with the overseeing of the poor,” Corbyn explained. “He believes the Home Office has adequate funds to establish this new agency, and he is rallying the people in defense of the bill. If his bill succeeds, then we will lose some of our funding.”
“Who does Lord Desmond think is keeping England safe from domestic and foreign threats?”
“That isn’t his concern at the moment,” Corbyn replied. “He wants to run for Prime Minister and use the workhouses as his platform.”
“That is just asinine.”
Corbyn took a sip of his drink. “People in the rookeries are dying at an alarming rate, and the reformers are tired of the Tories being in charge of Parliament. The people have been rioting for years.”
“Regardless, the Alien Office wards off potential threats and keeps the people safe. We have agents all over the world protecting England’s interests.”
“As far as the Alien Office is concerned, we don’t exist,” Corbyn stated flatly. “Which is why we are not bound to the same rules as the other agencies in the Home Office.”
“What does Addington say as the under-secretary of the Home Office?” Baldwin asked. “Surely he is fighting this bill?”
“He is,” Corbyn confirmed, “as is the Home Secretary, but Lord Desmond is relentless, and he is getting the votes. That is why we need you in your seat at the House of Lords.”
Baldwin rose from his chair and walked over to the window overlooking a small brick courtyard. He heaved a heavy sigh. “I can’t just walk away from being an agent of the Crown,” he insisted. “Frankly, I am too invested in this agency.”
“You are a marquess, and you knew this day would eventually come.”
“But I could be no less ready for it.”
Corbyn’s lips twitched. “You need not fret. We do have other competent agents, including Oliver.”
“I have no doubt that my brother is more than competent, but I want this assignment,” Baldwin retorted.
Corbyn grew silent for a long moment, studying him thoughtfully. Finally, he spoke. “All right, but you must also resume your seat in the House of Lords.”
