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Chapter Six
Cal had no problem keeping secrets. He had more secrets than a sieve had holes. But he’d come here to escape some of those secrets, and now Baron was asking him to take on more.
“I have to say, I don’t like the sound of this offer.”
“I don’t doubt that. You can, of course, refuse if the terms don’t suit.”
That should have made Cal feel better, but he’d always had a hard time refusing a gamble. Cal shot a look at Miss Murray. She’d forgotten to write on her notepad and watched Baron with her eyes wide. Cal could only assume that meant these sorts of offers were not common practice.
“Go on.” Cal leaned back in his chair.
“As I’m sure you’ve guessed,” Baron began, “you’re not the sort of man we usually bring here.”
“I’m not English.”
“You’re not an agent for the Crown,” Baron corrected. “You have a rather different employment history.”
“I’m a thief.”
Miss Murray’s head jerked up and she stared at him before remembering herself and looking back at her notepad.
“Among other things,” Baron added. “But don’t think my bringing you here was a mistake. I know all about you, Mr. Kelly. I probably know more about you than you know about yourself.”
“Sure and that’s not disturbing,” Cal muttered.
“It’s my job to know about you. I knew you’d accept my offer to come, even though you didn’t know what you were agreeing to, because you couldn’t afford to stay in London. And I knew once you arrived, you’d excel.” He lifted a folder on the desk under his hands. Cal had noticed it but hadn’t been interested in its contents. He’d rarely, if ever, trafficked in the sale of information. “I have here reports from the instructors on your first seven days at The Farm. You should know they are all highly impressed.” He looked down at the folder. “Of course, Mr. Shot may wish to revise his report in light of today’s events, although his was the least complimentary. It seems you are not a natural marksman. For my purposes, you needn’t be.”
“And what are your purposes?”
Baron held up a hand. “In good time, Mr. Kelly. In fact, time is what I want from you. I called you here tonight because I thought by now you would be considering making your way back home.”
Cal had spent many hours gambling, and he knew his face gave away none of the surprise he was feeling. Miss Murray was not such a practiced liar. Her green eyes flicked to him, filled with indignation and umbrage.
“Now why would you think that?” he asked casually.
“You’re not an agent. You’re not here for Crown and Country.”
“Sure and I enjoy the free food and lodging.” He tugged at a loose thread on his coat.
“And if that were enough for you, we wouldn’t be sitting here. I want you to stay through the month, Mr. Kelly.”
The room was silent except for the scratching of Miss Murray’s pencil.
“And then?” Cal asked, knowing there was more.
“And then I want you to go to Ireland and complete a small, simple task for me.”
Cal studied that loose thread. “Small and simple, so it is.”
Baron sat back in his chair. “I believe so.”
“Why send me then?”
“You’re Irish. The people you might encounter have a dislike of the English. Better that I send an Irishman with no connection to the Crown. You complete the task and then do as you like. Go visit your mother’s people, if you wish.”
Cal shouldn’t have been surprised that Baron knew his mother hailed from Ireland, but his casual mention made Cal pause. He hadn’t been back to Ireland since he’d come to England as a boy. He might have aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents. He’d never belonged in London, but in Ireland, he might have family.
Then he pushed all of that aside. What would his family want with a conman? He’d be a stranger to them, another mouth to feed. He was kidding himself if he pretended he’d get honest work. There was no more work in Ireland than England, even if he was inclined to submit to the drudgery of it.
