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ChapterOne
Nathan
The Season was nearly over, thank God. Captain Nathan Jones felt nothing but relief at the thought as he rode through the quiet streets of Mayfair.
Already, Mayfair was much quieter, the streets clearer, and he could go for a gallop through Hyde Park without having to arrive before dawn, which was what he was doing this morning. Not long after dawn, the sun barely over the horizon, the park was deserted.
Not that Nathan would return home once the Season proper had ended. He was serving as his brother’s proxy in London. Now the Earl of Talbot, Sebastian was overwhelmed at home, trying to undo the harm their father had done to the estates.
Sebastian had sent Nathan to London to handle everything he could in the capital, which was fortuitous since Oliver Stuart, the Marquess of Camden and Spymaster to the Crown, had also requested Nathan’s presence in London. Nathan had worked as an unofficial agent to the crown for quite a few years now, including when he’d been in the army. He was happy to serve his country. A hunt for a traitor who had attempted to assassinate the Duke of York had certainly spiced up the Season.
Though he wouldn’t be returning to Brentwood Manor and the family estates, the end of the Season would be a huge relief since it meant his social duties would be finished for now. Until the next Season, most of thetonwere returning to the countryside, where they would host house parties, tend to their home duties, and otherwise occupy themselves.
Truth be told, Nathan preferred country life, so if he had to be in the city, he preferred it when everyone else… wasn’t.
Nathan wasn’t often an early riser, even when in the country, but this past week he had been plagued by anxiety. Every morning, he’d risen early and gone riding, trying to shake the elusive feelingsomethingwas going to happen. That sense of premonition had served him well as a captain in the army, but now it was far more ominous because he was in the middle of London, not a battleground.
The Season had ended without catching the traitor. He believed they had come close and were getting closer, but somehow, the traitor had eluded them.
None of his friends wanted to believe Miss Lillian Davies had anything to do with it. They did not believe it. However, Nathan knew from personal experience, women could be treacherous, pretending to be one thing when actually they were waiting for an opportunity to stab you in the back.
She was an unlikely suspect at first glance—a debutante, a good friend to the Marquess of Camden’s family, a neighbor, in fact. Her father had once saved the Duke of Frederick’s life.
Yet would that not be the perfect cover?
She was smart. Too smart for her own good. Nathan had heard the mutterings of gossip that swirled around her. Despite her quiet beauty, she did not have a quiet tongue, which she’d sharpened on several members of theton.She certainly had made no new friends during the Season, but then, she did not need them. Before she had arrived in London, she had already collected an array of correspondents from across Europe, including powerful and influential figures, especially in the French government.
They had been unable to prove that the French were backing the traitor, but the French were who Nathan would put his money on. The other most likely option was the Russians, and while some evidence had recently come to the surface to suggest they were the true culprits, Nathan thought it best not to trust either until they knew for sure.
Miss Lillian Davies had contacts in Russia as well.
Unfortunately, neither the Marquess of Camden nor his son, Elijah, considered her a suspect. They still saw her as the little girl who had grown up next to them and eventually became a good friend of the Marquess’ niece. To Nathan, that only meant she would be the perfect person to turn.
Elijah had already told him to drop the subject, and he had but still kept an eye out. He was sure the tingle on the back of his neck and his inability to sleep had to do with her. Not because of her wide, dark eyes, lithe figure, or beautiful face, though she had all of those attributes as well. If he was completely honest, the fact he remained attracted to her, despite his suspicions, stirred his resentment.
“Bloody women,” he muttered under his breath, reining in Merlin abruptly. The stallion obediently came to a halt. Riding was not giving him the peace of mind he desired. He might as well return home rather than complete his circuit.
That sudden stop saved his life when the crack of a gunshot rang out, and a bullet whizzed by right in front of him.
Nathan did not stop to think. Reacting on pure instinct, he yanked Merlin’s head around—much harder than he normally would have—and kicked him into a gallop. Despite being fairly even-tempered, Merlin loved to run and had likely been startled by the sound of the gun as well, though he could not have seen the bullet that flew in front of Nathan’s chest. Later, Nathan would reflect on how lucky he’d been that the bullet’s passage had gone betwixt him and Merlin’s head rather than hitting either of them.
For now, he crouched low over Merlin’s back, his gaze moving along the trees where the shot must have come from. There was no movement there, and he could not tell if his attacker had fled or—
Crack!
Another shot, this one aimed at Merlin, and Nathan cursed, turning his horse away from the trees. Without knowing how well-armed the shooter was, much less where he or she was hiding in the trees, and with no back-up, lingering was ill-advised. A tactical retreat was the only sane option, no matter how much it stung.
Giving Merlin his head, Nathan flew through the park, headed for the exit closest to the Marquess of Camden’s London home. He had no doubt this attack was related to the hunt for the traitor—there was no other reason he could think of for someone to be shooting at him—so he wanted to not only report it but acquire assistance in investigating.
The shooter would likely be long gone before he returned, but perhaps they would leave some evidence behind.
The blood in his veins went ice cold when he rode Merlin up to the front of Camden House and saw the front door swinging open.
* * *
Lily
Staring out the window at the rolling greenery of the countryside, which finally greeted her eyes rather than the rows of houses, Lily heaved a sigh of relief. Inside the barouche-landau, on the opposite bench, her maid looked up at her with an inquisitive brow before deciding Lily had not actually been trying to catch her attention and looked away again. Thankfully, Chastity was used to Lily’s preference for quiet reflection over constant chattering.
