the same sensation of smallness—no, delicacy—when his large frame towered over her. On one level, his presence was disconcerting, but on another, he calmed her, made her feel safe and secure.
“I have another pressing matter I must attend first, Mrs. Ashcroft.” His crystalline gaze roamed her face with a thoroughness that sucked the breath from her lungs. “Go home to your daughter. I will join you in a few days to review the rest of Ashcroft’s correspondence.”
Her limbs sagged, heavy with relief. “Thank you, my lord. I appreciate your assistance. Grayson and Mrs. Fox will be happy to hear of your return.”
“Do not bother informing my staff of my imminent arrival,” he said. “I do not plan on staying long.”
***
August 7
“Chief, we need the other letters.”
The Earl of Helsford’s pronouncement pulled Sebastian Danvers, Lord Somerton, out of his dark musings, which had occupied more of his time of late.
Sebastian shifted his attention from the black ribbon wound around his finger to his agent, Guy Trevelyan, Lord Helsford, who stood near the library window. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as one can be when deciphering the words of what appears to be a desperate man.”
If anyone could piece together Ashcroft’s message, Helsford could. As a master cryptographer, the earl’s talent at cracking complex codes was unmatched. A talent Sebastian had used well over the years to thwart Napoleon Bonaparte’s hunger for domination.
“Perhaps Ashcroft’s widow held the others back to lure you away,” Ethan deBeau, Viscount Danforth, interjected with his normal lack of finesse. He sank farther into the cushioned chair, propping his booted foot over the opposite knee. “After the failed attempt on your life, we must rule out nothing.”
As they were wont to do since yesterday afternoon, Sebastian’s thoughts turned to the widow, and his thumb pressed into the black ribbon. She had changed little in the last four years. Her blond hair, creamy complexion, and petite body were as lovely as ever. She wore the same conservative attire that proclaimed her English to the bone and of the country. But her confident tone and direct gaze were new. No longer did she hover behind a man’s protective shoulder or avoid lengthy eye contact. The woman he spoke to yesterday exuded confidence and vibrated with purpose and conviction.
She had come to him for answers, alone and unprotected. What would it feel like to have such a champion? To have a woman brave the city in order to beg the assistance of a virtual stranger on his behalf?
Sebastian pulled in a shallow breath. Dark, unproductive musings, indeed.
“He’s right,” Helsford said into the silence. “You are a direct threat to Napoleon’s success. We cannot be too cautious.”
Sebastian nodded, recalling the recent assassination plot Helsford had uncovered in time to save his life. A plot Lord Latymer, his friend and superior, had helped concoct. “I will keep your words of warning in mind.”
During his time with the Nexus, an elite group of international spies sworn to stop Napoleon Bonaparte’s conquering tempest across Europe, he had learned many things, often the hard way. But the one lesson he would never forget was that one can never know another’s true heart. A beautiful face could be a mask for the blackest soul, and the most horrific mien could provide protection for the purest heart. Worst of all, most people were not wholly evil or wholly good, but something infinitely more dangerous—a little of both.
Sebastian glanced between the two men who had been friends since childhood, men he had helped raise, train, mold. Helsford, silent and thoughtful; Danforth, a volatile mix of passions. Both lethal when the moment called for such actions. The only one missing from this reunion was Cora deBeau, Danforth’s sister and one of Sebastian’s best intelligence gatherers.
Over the years, he had wondered what their lives would have been like had Ethan and Cora’s parents not been murdered. The incident had set off a chain of events that turned the trio of friends into the brilliant spies they were today. Many thought Lord and Lady Danforth’s deaths resulted from an interrupted theft, but those close to the family knew otherwise.
Predicting the coming storm between England and France, his mentor, Roland deBeau, the late Viscount Danforth, had begun introducing unusual skill-sets to his two children to test their interest and aptitude. Of the deBeau children, Cora had always been the most focused, the most levelheaded. Those qualities, and many more, had made her an excellent pupil.
During one of their pickpocket training sessions, his mentor had asked