rubbed his fingertips over the newspaper. “Latymer’s scheming ran deep in the organization. Reeves is no doubt wondering why I did not detect the man’s treachery. I certainly would in his shoes.” The question of why he hadn’t discerned Latymer’s double spying had weighed on his thoughts since the day they discovered Danforth’s sister, Cora—also known as the Raven—in the man’s cellar.
“That’s all well and good,” Danforth said. “But I’ve already given them an accounting of those events. To have to relive it a second time was not how I had hoped to spend yesterday afternoon.”
“No, I suspect not,” he said. “Did you come here only to inform me of your deposition?”
“No,” he said. “Helsford’s busy with the Littleton case. So Cora asked me to retrieve Ashcroft’s remaining letters. Did the widow hand them over?”
“Yes, four more.”
“All is well in that regard, I take it.”
“She is nothing more than a wife trying to make sense of a heinous crime,” Sebastian said. “I detect no ill intent.”
“Finally a piece of good news.”
“Where’s Cora?”
“With Helsford, of course.” The viscount lifted a fork full of sausage to his mouth, pausing. “After surviving their recent nightmare, I doubt Helsford’s going to allow my sister to stray more than a dozen feet from his side ever again.”
Not that anyone could prevent Cora from doing anything she set her mind to. However, they had all underestimated her gaoler. A condition Sebastian had no desire to repeat. “A day or two more, and I would have delivered the letters myself,” Sebastian said. “There was no reason to make a special trip.”
“That’s what I said, but my sister had other ideas.”
“Falling into bad habits again?”
“Cora’s been through so much,” Danforth muttered. “Directing me and Helsford around takes her mind off other things.”
Like being tortured for a fortnight. Sebastian pushed the thought away. He had already spent hours punishing himself. Right now, he needed to focus on the restless man in front of him.
“Helsford asked me to deliver this.” He tossed a sealed missive onto the table. “So I can’t blame my presence entirely on Cora.” A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Although it’s a great deal more fun making the runt take responsibility.”
Sebastian smiled, his gaze sliding over the nondescript black seal. It was good to hear Danforth’s aggrieved tone. He knew when Ethan and Cora were forecasting doom upon one another that the world had somehow righted itself.
No matter how hard he’d tried to keep an emotional distance between him and his two former wards, they paid no attention. They did not fear his quelling looks or stony silence, nor his sharp rebukes. That was not to say they didn’t respect him, or give him a wide berth at times. They simply kept coming around, invading his home at unexpected times—like now—and spoke to him as they would any intimate colleague. It was maddening and, if he were honest, comforting.
“Danforth,” Sebastian said, “there is no need for you to stay. I have a few ends to tie up here over the next sennight and then I’ll be returning to London.”
“What of the Foreign Office’s investigation?”
“What of it?” he asked. “I’ve nothing to hide. It’s my agents’ identities I’m most concerned about, but I’m starting to question my decision on that score.”
A stunned expression crossed Danforth’s face. “You can’t allow them access to our identities, Chief.” The viscount reverted to the form of address most of the Nexus agents used. “It would make us all vulnerable.”
“Yes,” Sebastian agreed. “But it might be even more dangerous to have all the knowledge stored in one man’s memory.”
Danforth’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
“That’s a naive perspective, Danforth, and you know it.”
The younger man stared down at his plate, his hands gripping his utensils with bruising force. “Everything is changing.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I don’t bloody like it.”
“Few of us do.”
The viscount crammed half a piece of toast into his mouth, chewing with such vigor that Sebastian was certain the man’s jaw would ache later.
“What now, sir?”
Sebastian toyed with the stem of his glass. “Return to London and continue to keep an eye on Reeves. Let me know if you perceive a significant shift in the superintendent’s intentions.” He dropped the sealed missive on the table. “I have the letters for Helsford, too.”
The tension visibly eased from Danforth’s shoulders. “Consider it done, Chief.” He began stuffing his mouth full of Cook’s famous hot cakes.
“Pardon, my lord,” Grayson said from the breakfast room doorway. “Mrs. Ashcroft has arrived.”