One Thing Leads to a Lover (Love and Let Spy #2) - Susanna Craig Page 0,100
“Kingston?”
“Yes. Under interrogation, Jacobs confessed that he’d been hoping to have an opportunity to search Bartlett House. Seems the late earl was rumored to have a few hidey-holes about the place. For secreting away important papers and the like.” Langley’s thoughts were immediately drawn to that night in the library, and Amanda’s seductive disclosure of her husband’s stash of illicit brandy.
“Is the general—?” Langley had to stop and clear his throat so that the words didn’t sound rough with eagerness. “Is he sending me back to Bartlett House?”
Millrose didn’t answer. “Scott says he doubts the story is true, but it reminded him of the usefulness of his prior connection to Lord Kingston and those West End types. It’s good to have…friends in such circles, according to him. And he thinks”—Billy’s pinched expression clearly revealed his reluctance to disclose the details of the new assignment—“Sir Langley Stanhope might fit the bill nicely.”
“He wants me to resign my commission?”
“I don’t think so, no. Not officially, at any rate. I suspect that he…he thought you might want a change. Something a little less dangerous. Thought you might have grown tired of being the Magpie.”
“I am the—” Langley began, then stopped himself. Had it always been a role, a part he played? A disguise?
Was Sir Langley any more real? Not now, no…but could he be? Would he be welcomed in the hallowed halls of Mayfair, a person of interest in which delicate secrets could be confided, as General Scott evidently hoped?
Moving in the circles of the late Lord Kingston would also mean seeing Amanda now and again. Langley’s wayward mind called up the image of her in that red dress, the night of Dulsworthy’s ball. How would it feel to watch her laugh and dance with other gentlemen?
Unless, of course, she’d had enough of excitement and adventure and was determined never again to leave the house.
“How is she?”
That quiet question ought to have made no sense at all, unless Millrose somehow possessed the power to anticipate the direction of Langley’s thoughts.
Nevertheless, he answered. “Lady Kingston is perfectly well.”
“I’m glad to hear it. There was a letter meant for her. From Dulsworthy,” Langley recalled. “In my coat. The day of—the day—” His spoon clattered back into his bowl as he freed his hand to gesture at his injured arm. “What happened to it?”
“The coat was ruined, I’m afraid. The surgeon had to cut it away to get at your arm and dig out the bullet. But Fanny herself placed the contents of your pockets in here,” Millrose said, tapping the top of the little bedside table, with its single drawer.
Relief sighed from Langley’s aching chest. “Good.” At least he could give Amanda that much.
“There’s more to General Scott’s orders,” Millrose said after a moment’s silence. “But first, I was curious…” Though the size of the room gave a man’s eye very little opportunity to roam, Billy was doing an excellent job of avoiding his gaze.
“Go on.”
“I’ve been wondering about the, ah…that is, whether you…” A sharp exhalation puffed his lips, as if he were trying to force out the question. “What exactly is the nature of the relationship between you and the countess?”
It was Langley’s turn to shift awkwardly, and the movement nearly upset the tray Fanny had placed over his lap. “As I’m to be a gentleman now, I suppose the only proper reply I can give is that the lady must be the one to answer such a question.”
Millrose gave an impatient wave of his hand, brushing off Langley’s words like an irritating gnat. “Yes, of course.” Then he reached that same hand into his breast pocket and withdrew a stack of folded notes. “But I think, in her way, she already has. She’s written four times to enquire after your health, you see.”
“But we were in Lambeth together only—
“Yesterday. Yes.”
Hope flared in Langley’s chest, but he ruthlessly tamped it out. A secret liaison had been one thing, but the terms of this new assignment would make its continuation impossible. For all her professed love of adventure, public exposure of an affair was not a risk a lady, even a wealthy widow, could afford to take. And she had made clear she didn’t want anything more.
Unless her thoughts on the matter had changed?
Millrose wasn’t finished, however. “General Scott himself suggested that your connection to Lady Kingston might prove valuable in your efforts to infiltrate the beau monde.”
“Did he?” Evidently, he had not given up on his matchmaking.