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Integrity. Intelligence. Courage. Selflessness. Resilience.
These were the values at the core of his training. From the age of thirteen he’d been indoctrinated by his instructors, taught to separate his heart from his mind.
Love had no place on the path he’d chosen.
He was a soldier. A warrior. He knew his duty and nothing could distract him from it.
This was a mission, just like any other mission.
If Indy must go to Paris, he’d be there to protect her. It was the next best thing to her not going at all.
Finally, he hit a bottle, then another, until the entire row of bottles lay in pieces on the ground and the acrid scent of smoke filled his nostrils.
Miss Mina Penny, Sir Malcolm’s niece, approached him from across the lawn. She was a pretty thing with pale blonde hair and a sweet, delicate-featured face that betrayed her every emotion.
Raven had known her since she was a child, come to live with Malcolm after both of her parents died in a carriage accident. Now she served as Sir Malcom’s secretary. She was also a crack shot.
“Good day, Your Grace,” she said when she reached him. “Uncle Malcolm is ready for you now in the library.”
“Thank you, Miss Mina. Lovely day for shooting, though there’s quite a chill in the air.”
She was wrapped in a gray fur-lined cloak. She set down the case she carried and opened it to reveal a gleaming brass sporting pistol.
“Is that one new?” he asked.
“It’s the new Greener muzzleloader. I’m to test it for Uncle.” She tapped the barrel. “There’s a nice hardness to it.”
Was that a naughty gleam in her eye? Time for Raven to leave. Flirtatious young girls were not his cup of tea. He preferred stronger stuff.
“Why have you never married, Your Grace?” Miss Mina asked abruptly, leveling the pistol at him.
It wasn’t loaded, at least. “I’m not the marrying kind. My younger brother will inherit the dukedom and he’s already working on producing an heir.”
“I might not be the marrying kind, either, but I want to have a Season, nonetheless. I want to live in London proper instead of moldering away out here in the countryside. I want to visit the London Tavern and debate with all the radicals and poets and musicians. I want to... I want to dosomethingbesides stay cooped up here my whole life.”
She led a sheltered existence, which was ironic, given that she was living in a hotbed of espionage. He’d often wondered if she’d guessed what really went on around here.
She pouted. “Uncle M never lets me go anywhere.”
“He’s protective of you.”
“I’m nineteen—a woman grown. I know what happens around here, don’t think that I don’t.”
She fixed him with an unnerving stare, still holding the pistol aimed at his heart. Surely she didn’t knoweverything.
“A great lot of shooting and fencing,” he said, “and—”
“I may be female but I’m not a dullard.” She lowered the pistol.
He kept his expression bland. “You serve as Sir Malcolm’s secretary, do you not?”
“Tedious paperwork; estate sales, antiquities behests and the like. I’ve been working on... other things.” She leaned toward him. “I wonder if you might test something for me?”
She lifted a concealed compartment at the bottom of her pistol case and handed him a gold pocket watch. “This is something new,” she whispered, glancing back toward the house. “If you’re in a tight spot and you’ve no other way out, you open it here,” she demonstrated. “And then you turn the face one half turn. No! Don’t do it now—unless you want to fall unconscious.”
Raven paused. He’d been given concealed weaponry before, ingenious devices such as knives hidden in walking sticks, and pistols small enough to tuck into the back of his trousers. But this was something new. And he’d certainly had no idea that Mina might have an interest or knowledge in the weapons of his trade.
“I’m not sure I should be encouraging you,” he said.
