A Passion for Him(12)

“If she will have me, she will be the Countess Montoya,” he said, referring to the title he had invented expressly for her. Over the years he’d built and strengthened the roots of that assumed nobility, purchasing properties and establishing wealth under that guise. He would not have her married to the common Colin Mitchell. She deserved better. “But perhaps it is her attachment to Colin that will win her heart.”

“I will miss you,” Quinn said, his blue-eyed gaze pensive. “In fact, I am not certain how I will manage without you.”

Quinn had been enlisted by agents of the Crown of England to manage tasks more cautious agents wouldn’t. He was not “officially” recognized, nor was Colin, which freed them both from the restrictions under which others labored. In return for their unacknowledged efforts, they kept most of the spoils, which made them exceptionally wealthy.

“You will find a way,” Colin said, smiling. “You always do. You still have Cartland. In some respects, he is far more accomplished than I. He can track better than a canine. If something is lost, he is the best man to find it.”

“I have my concerns about him.” Quinn rested his elbows on the carved wooden arms of his chair and steepled his fingers together.

“Oh? You never said as much to me before.”

“You were still in my employ then. Now I can speak to you as a friend who shares a joint past.”

The logic to that was odd, but Colin played along. “What worries you?”

“Too many seem to die around Cartland.”

“I thought that was by design.”

“Occasionally,” Quinn admitted. “He lacks the remorse that most would feel upon taking a life.”

“You mean to say that I feel,” Colin said wryly.

Quinn grinned and attracted the attention of a woman the next table over. His smile changed from one of amusement to one of sensual promise. Colin looked away to hide his chuckle. It amazed him that a man so widely lauded for his comeliness could hide such a covert livelihood.

“You never did enjoy that part of your employment,” Quinn continued.

Colin lifted his glass in a mock salute and then swallowed the blood red contents in one uncouth swallow. “I always feared that every life I ended would cling to me in some way, taint me, and that eventually they would make me unsuitable for Amelia.”

“How romantic,” Quinn jeered softly. “One of the qualities I most loved in Maria was her ability to survive in the gutter. I could not live my life with a lily-white female. The weight of the façade would quickly fatigue me.”

“You assume that the man you sit across from now is the real Colin and the one who longs for Amelia is the façade. Perhaps the opposite is true.”

Quinn’s gaze narrowed beneath boldly winged brows. “Then maintain the ruse a little longer.”

Tensing, Colin set his empty glass down and listened alertly. “What do you want?”

He would do anything for Quinn, but the sudden portent of danger set him on edge. His bags were packed and loaded aboard the ship. In a few hours he would set sail and begin his true life, the one he had interrupted six years ago to become a man of means. A man of title, prestige, wealth. A man worthy of Amelia Benbridge.

“I have been told that Cartland is meeting often with confidants of Agent-General Talleyrand-Périgord.”

Colin whistled. “Cartland is one of the most impious men I have ever met.”

“Which is why his association with the equally impious agent-general is concerning. I want to search his lodgings tonight,” Quinn said, “while you are still here to see to my safety. I simply need you to delay him if he attempts to retire early.”

“Since he is aware that I depart at dawn, he will find it odd if I approach him.”

“Be covert. Most likely he will cause you no grief. He is not known for being reclusive.”

Nodding, Colin ran the posed scenario through his mind and could find nothing that would interfere with his removal from France. A few hours of his time and he would alleviate his feelings of guilt for abandoning Quinn. Cartland spent more time awake in the night hours than he did during the day. Chances were more than good that Colin would sit in a carriage watching the door of one establishment or another and go directly from there to the wharf.

“Of course I will help you,” he agreed.

“Excellent.” Quinn gestured to an attendant for more wine. “I am indebted to you.”

“Nonsense,” Colin dismissed. “I can never repay you for what you have done for me.”

“I expect to be invited to the wedding.”