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She laughed even harder. “If you weren’t still recovering from a knifewound…”
“Yes?” His brow lifted. “Threatening your husband all ready? Is this how you mean togoon?”
“Indeed.” She nodded vigorously. “Are yousurprised?”
“I’d be disappointed otherwise,” he said and then he kissed heroncemore.
* * *
There wasnothing Marc would have liked more than to toss everyone from Haversham House and have his way with his wife.His wife. He still couldn’t quite believe she’d talked him into that, but he wasn’t unhappy about it. Not in theleast.
Still, he couldn’t toss everyone out of the house and make love to his wife. Not because he cared what any of them would think about him. No. He couldn’t toss half of London out of his house because the hole in his back still ached like the bloody devil. So he smiled at her friends and family and resisted the urge to send her oldest brother sailing through the air when he threatened Marc’s life should he ever do anything to hurtCaroline.
But as everyone was about to head over to Astwick House for a wedding breakfast celebration, Marc tugged Caroline toward him and said, “I’ll meet you at Astwick’s in time fordessert.”
“Where are you going?” Shefrowned.
“Whitehall,” he said softly so no one else could overhear him. “This morning I looked in my valise and realized I still have that damned codebook. The sooner I deliver it to Galloway, the sooner we can put them all from ourlives.”
“Youreallywant to miss our wedding breakfast that badly?” sheasked.
She did know him well. “All those people loveyou, sweetheart. They won’t care if I’m not there.” In fact, most of them would probably prefer him to miss it all together, dessertincluded.
“I’llcare.”
She was the only one who ever truly did. He kissed her softly. “I’ll make it up to you later.” And delivering that damn book was in the interest of her safety. It had to come before any sort of celebratorybreakfast.
Marc muttered a few goodbyes to those in his path and then he went directly to his study to retrieve the book in question and then headed forWhitehall.
* * *
Being backat Whitehall made Marc’s skin nearly crawl. The sooner he delivered the damn codebook and left, the happierhe’dbe.
Thomas Galloway’s office was in exactly the same spot it always had been, which made it easy to find. Marc strode straight into the spymaster’s office, without even bothering toknock.
And he was not surprised in the least to find that damned Earl of Peasemore sitting in a chair opposite the Under Secretary’s desk. If Marc was the altruistic sort, he’d warn Peasemore away from his current path, but there was no point, really. When Marc was younger, when he was idealistic, he wouldn’t have listened to anyone who’d try to warn him away. Odds were Peasemore would react thesameway.
And he hadn’t come to Whitehall to deal with Peasemore. He’d come to deal withGalloway.
“It is customary to knock,” the UnderSecretarysaid.
“Yes, well, I am not customary as you’re well aware,” Marc returned. Then he slapped Staveley’s damn codebook on the man’s desk, and added, “If I even suspect for a moment that you have any agents glancing in my wife’s direction, I will kill every operative you’ve got.” He tilted his head toward the earl. “Startingwithhim.”
Galloway was unmoved by that threat and he frowned at the book. “Whatisthat?”
“Thatis what you’ve terrorizing my wife over. Breaking into Staveley House, Benton Park, and being, quite honestly, a thorn in my bloody side formonths.”
“Staveley’s book?” Galloway smirked. “My lord, you are too late. St. George gave us everything we needed to squash that little conspiracy right after we took him into custody. Feel free to keep it, if you’d like, a souvenir of sorts for yourtroubles.”
Souvenir for his troubles? Marc had the overwhelming urge to smash the man’s face right into his desk, but his backdidstill hurt like the dickens. “Then burn it for all I care. I don’t need any reminders of the Home Office other than the ones I live with on a dailybasis.”
“Yes, how is your back?” Galloway asked. “I see you’re walkingaroundso…”
But Marc was not about to pretend to have a genteel conversation with the spymaster, disingenuous bastard that he was. “You will stay away from my wife, from my family. Am I perfectlyclear?”
“Agents never really retire, my lord. Look how you found that book for me even after all these years.” Galloway cast him the smuggest ofsmiles.
“Approach me again, you won’t live to see the sunset. And if you even glance in my wife’s direction, you will regret the day youwereborn.”
