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Growing solemn, Corbyn said, “I have come to inform you that we arrested all of the conspirators of the radical group without incident.”
“That is wonderful news.”
“It is, and it is my ardent wish that they will plead guilty rather than have a lengthy trial,” Corbyn remarked. “It would save you from having to testify.”
“I don’t mind testifying if the situation warrants it.”
Corbyn reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper. “I have your next assignment,” he shared.
“It will have to wait.”
Corbyn looked at him in disbelief. “Pardon?”
“I have been sleeping off and on in the rookeries for nearly six months to maintain my cover,” Oliver said. “It is time I took some time off to spend with my wife.”
“Then take a few days—”
Oliver held his hand up. “I intend to take Emmeline to Lockhart Manor for a few weeks.”
“That is disappointing to hear,” Corbyn muttered.
“In a few months, my wife won’t be able to travel due to her condition, so I’m afraid it can’t wait.”
“I should dismiss you.”
Oliver shrugged. “It is your right.”
Corbyn tucked the paper back into his pocket, then said, “It is a good thing you are a competent agent.”
Oliver smirked. “Was that a compliment?”
“Merely an observation, nothing more.”
“Why don’t you take some time off?” Oliver asked, petting the small puppy as it drifted off to sleep in his lap.
Corbyn shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for that.” He hit the top of the coach and it began to slow down. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have work that needs to be done.”
Without saying another word, Corbyn exited the coach and walked down the pavement. The coach started rolling down the street again as Oliver continued to pet the sleeping puppy.
Oliver took a moment to contemplate how truly lucky he was that he had agreed to marry Emmeline. Every night he spent away from her, he held a portrait miniature of her in his hand, reminding himself just how much he loved her.
The coach came to a stop outside of Hawthorne House, and he waited for the footman to open the door before exiting. Pratt opened the main door, and his eyes grew wide at the sight of the puppy.
“I brought home a surprise for Her Ladyship,” Oliver said, holding the puppy up. “Can you prepare some scraps for his supper?”
Pratt tipped his head. “Yes, milord.”
“Where is my wife?”
“She is in the drawing room.”
Oliver held the puppy behind his back as he walked across the entry hall. He stepped into the room and saw his wife reading a book on the settee.
“Shouldn’t you have your feet up?” he chided lightly as he stepped further into the room.
Emmeline gasped as she looked up. “You are home.”
“I am.”
