by Jenna Brandt
Lawfully Covert
The Lawkeepers
Jenna Brandt
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Locale and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, or actual locations is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email [email protected].
Text copyright © Jenna Brandt 2020.
Cover copyright by Jenna Brandt
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Lawfully Covert
Lady Josephine Bradley, the second daughter of the Duke of Rothenbury, loves her life as the center of the English nobility. But when her best friend is mysteriously killed, she finds herself recruited to be a lady spy due to her connections. She must quickly learn to navigate a world she never imagined, filled with secrets, lies, and a forbidden spymaster who fills her thoughts.
Charles Gilbert expertly serves the Crown as London’s spymaster, so when he recruits Lady Josephine, he’s certain he can manage the young debutante. The problem is she’s determined to do whatever it takes to solve her friend’s murder, even if it derail his plans. Nothing seems to deter her, not even sinister threats, highway robbery, or kidnapping.
Can Charles discover whose behind the mysterious deaths in London? Will Josephine accidentally tip off the murderer? And will she pick a spy over the proper match her father wants for her?
The Lawkeepers is a multi-author series alternating between historical westerns and contemporary westerns featuring law enforcement heroes that span multiple agencies and generations. Join bestselling authors Jenna Brandt, Lorana Hoopes and many others as they weave captivating, sweet and inspirational stories of romance and suspense between the lawkeepers — and the women who love them.
The Lawkeepers is a world like no other; a world where lawkeepers and heroes are honored with unforgettable stories, characters, and love.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
A Note from the Author
Also by Jenna Brandt
Join My Mailing List and Reader’s Groups
Acknowledgments
About the Author
One
1883 Brighton, England
“Good job, Thomas, this information will go a long way to protect the Crown,” Charles Gilbert praised the editor from the Brighton newspaper. He glanced around the park to make sure no one was watching them, then handed the other man a thick manila envelope. “Keep listening to the political rebels in your area, and let me know if you find out anything else.”
“Yes, Mr. Gilbert, anything you want. You know I’m loyal to the Queen and your cause.”
Charles believed the other man, but he knew it was more about the sizable pay the editors received than any sense of duty to their country. Money was his means of controlling and using them to help gain vital information for the British government. The fact that newspaper editors were significantly underpaid worked to his benefit.
Thomas looked in the envelope, then glanced up. “There’s more than what we agreed upon.”
“You earned it,” Gilbert confirmed with a nod. “You always go above and beyond what I ask.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gilbert. My family will indeed eat well this month, I daresay, the next two months because of this.”
“I need to be returning to London.” Charles had been up north gathering intelligence from his informants. He could have sent someone to do it for him, but he didn’t trust anyone enough to do it right. It was what made him so good at his job. Charles suspected everyone of double crossing him. He knew better than to trust people. Trust was the one thing you gave away that made you vulnerable. He couldn’t afford to be. It made his job more difficult at times, but it was worth it because he got results. “I’ll be back in a month for any further information you gather.”
Charles pulled out his pocket watch from his waistcoat to check the time. If he hurried, he would be able to catch the afternoon train. He rushed to the depot on the edge of town, and climbed the steps of the wooden platform. After buying his ticket, he boarded the train, taking a seat towards the back. He liked being able to see everyone on the train. It also prevented anyone surprising him from behind. Keeping his back against a wall had saved his life more times than he could count.
He settled into his spot, lifting the newspaper up to cover most of his face, but leaving enough room over the top to watch the last-minute arrivals. No one of note, but one could never be too careful in his line of work. It was a spy’s bread and butter to assess a situation and decide what needed to be done. He managed to not only stay alive long enough, but maintain his cover as the London Tribune’s newspaper editor, and positioning himself as the Crown’s head spymaster. All information passed through him. He was the gatekeeper, and no one got a key without him knowing.
Charles was settling back into his office in London after his two-week absence. It was amazing how much work could pile up. Though his real job wasn’t really being the editor of the newspaper, he couldn’t afford to slack off either. It was the reason he could justify traveling and reaching out to other editors in Europe to grow his secret organization of informants. If anyone was contriving something vile against his Queen and country, Charles was determined to stop it before they accomplished their diabolical plans.
His secretary, Kate Wilson, entered his office. The petite blonde woman had been with him from the beginning, one of his first informants. As a prostitute at a brothel frequented by nobility, the information she had given him over the years had stopped countless scandals and foiled several plots against the Crown. She’d been his best asset before a jealous client decided to cut her face. When her madam turned her out on the streets, Charles decided to give her a job as his secretary.
“Mr. Gilbert, you have a new message.” She handed him the piece of paper, waiting for further instructions.
He opened and read the contents:
I need to meet with you right away.
Possibly compromised.
Must give you what I have before it’s too
late.
Meet me at the theater tonight.
LI
This wasn’t good. LI had been working on one of his most important cases. If Charles lost this informant, there was a good chance some prominent members of the nobility, specifically the royal family, would continue to be blackmailed. He knew better than anyone, blackmailers only increased their demands the longer they went without getting caught. If the culprit required more than what could be met by the targets, secrets and scandals that had been covered up for decades would be made public. It would ruin the Crown, and possibly collapse society as they knew it. He couldn’t let that happen.
“Miss Wilson, you’ll need to fetch my tailcoat from my closet and have it pressed. It seems I’m going to be attending the theater tonight.”
“Right away, Mr. Gilbert.” Kate hurried out of the office and shut the door behind her.
Charles stood up and walked over to the corner of his office. He bent down and removed a few pieces of wood from the floor. He turned the knob to the correct combination to open the safe underneath, then pulled out the file marked noble blackmailer. Though he knew every detail, he went back through each page. It wasn’t often that he was stumped for long periods of time, but whoever was behind this had managed to do a good job of covering their tracks.
An hour later, Kate returned with his freshly pressed black suit. He thanked her for it and dismissed her for the rest of the day. After placing the files back in their home, he exited his office, climbing the stairs that led to his apartment above the newspaper office. Once alone, he prepared for the evening.
The expensive, tailored suit was only part of his disguise. He slicked back his brown hair, then adjusted his matching waistcoat and bow tie to complete the look. He wasn’t born noble, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t look the part. He’d been around enough of them to know how to pass as one.
He placed his pistol in the secret pocket of his jacket, making sure it wasn’t obvious to the naked eye. It was better to be prepared than be caught off guard, though he hoped he wouldn’t need it tonight.
As he made his way into the entertainment area of London, Charles wondered what had spooked his informant enough to request a public meeting. He wasn’t sure what LI had stumbled across, but the note made it clear, it wasn’t good.
Two
The tinkling sound of Lady Josephine Bradley’s best friend’s laughter filled the theater box. Lady Isadora’s head was tilted back, her wrist rapidly flipping her fan against her cheek to cool the rush of color that was present.
Josephine forced herself to not flinch under all the eyes staring at them from around the London theater. Lucky for them, it was intermission and no one would be openly offended by the outburst. It didn’t present itself as the best conduct letting single men entertain them in such a flirtatious way, even if Josephine’s married older sister, Rachel, was sitting in the theater box with them. Her sister was sweet, probably too sweet, to keep someone like Isadora in line as their chaperone. At the moment, Rachel was visiting the privy, and left Josephine to monitor her friend—a task she had no desire to do.
“You are such a scoundrel, Lord Richard. You know you shouldn’t tell such scandalous tales to a lady,” Isadora said with a twinkle in her pretty brown eyes. “But I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“We can keep it between us,” the Duke of Witherton said, with a wicked grin as he moved from his perch on the edge of the box railing. He came to sit next to her, reaching out to take her hand as he added, “If you promise to come to my ball at month’s end and dance with me.”
“Aren’t you adorable to make such an offer, but I heard on good authority you were pursuing Miss Vivian Bennett. Tell me, are you flirting with me to make her jealous?” Isadora asked with a quirk of her eyebrow. “I know very well her box is next to ours.”
“I’m appalled you would think that of me,” the duke declared with an indignant frown. “I was simply making a friendly offer to attend what will be most assuredly the highlight of the season. It would give us more time to…discuss matters of importance.”
Isadora gave the duke a cynical look. “I highly doubt we have anything of importance to discuss. I’m not a fool, your grace.”
“On the contrary, I think there’s quite a bit we can discuss. You’re at the center of all the happenings of the Ton. There’s nothing like a bit of gossip to keep one entertained.”
The ruse didn’t fool Josephine. She knew about his past. He hated gossip, as he had been at the center of it since his birth. She’d heard about the duke’s scandalous past and how he was the product of a sordid love triangle. Apparently, he decided to repeat his father’s mistakes, and was deeply embroiled in one of his own love triangles with Miss Vivian Bennett and Henry Westcott. He was the rightful heir of the Rolantry viscountcy that the duke currently held by the supposed misdeeds of his deceased father. Josephine knew more than most about how deep the spiteful rivalry went because she was good friends with Julia Bennett, Vivian’s cousin. She knew Isadora was right. The duke was simply using her to make Vivian jealous, and would do so at his ball if he got the chance.
The warning chimes sounded through the auditorium, letting attendees know to return to their seats as the opera was about to resume.
“If you will excuse me, ladies,” the duke said, bowing to all three of them. Giving a slight nod to the other man in the room, he added, “Selborne,” before exiting the box.
“Did you really have to make a spectacle of yourself like that? What are people going to think?” Duncan Selborne, the son of the Earl of Devonport, asked with contempt.
Here they went again—all Isadora and Duncan ever did was fight. She wondered why her friend continued to allow him to court her from the way he constantly tried to control her and quell her vivacious personality. Though he was right in this one instance—Isadora had been indeed behaving in a way that was inappropriate—Josephine didn’t like it when Duncan tried to shame her friend.
“I don’t have to answer to you, Duncan, at least not yet. We’re not formally engaged.”
“Nor do I want to be if you continue to conduct yourself like this,” Duncan warned with irritation. “A proper noblewoman shouldn’t behave in such an untoward manner.”
“Was that what I was doing?” she asked in a pretend-naïve voice, placing her gloved hand gently on top of Duncan’s. “Come now, let’s not squabble over a simple misunderstanding.”
“That’s not what this is—I simply cannot understand why you are unable to conduct yourself like all the other respectable women in our social set. Take Lady Josephine, for example, you would do well to mirror her demure demeanor. No one ever questions her propriety.”
Uh-oh, this wasn’t going to end well for Duncan. Isadora didn’t like being compared to anyone, let alone one of her friends. Josephine stiffened under the observation. Her eyes darted from Isadora to Duncan and back, bracing herself for the barrage of fiery words that were going to come tumbling out of her friend’s mouth.
“How dare you!” Isadora jumped from her seat, placing her hand on her hip. “I will have you know that many men love my spirited nature. I happen to think my pluck is my best asset.”
“Oh, Isadora, you’re sadly mistaken. Your reckless disposition is going to get you into trouble you can’t get out of if you don’t watch out.”
Isadora pressed her lips together, her eyes flashing with anger. For a solid three seconds, Josephine was certain that her friend was going to burst from her rage. Instead, she snapped her fan shut and threw it in on the chair. “I need to visit the privy.” Josephine moved to join her friend, but Isadora raised her hand to stop her. “Alone, I want to be alone.”
Josephine shifted in her seat, folding her hands in her lap as she tried to concentrate on anything other than Duncan. She’d known him since she was a girl, but he always made her feel uneasy. He watched her like a prowling cat waiting to pounce.
“You would think I would be used to Isadora behaving li
ke that,” Duncan said with a shake of his head. “How can you stand it?”
“I find her company enjoyable. If you don’t, perhaps you should rethink your courtship.”
“I don’t have a choice. My father wants the match. He thinks it will elevate our family to be married to a cousin of the royal family.”
“You really shouldn’t confide such a delicate matter in me. What if I told Isadora your reasons for wanting to court her?”
“She knows; she preys on it. Isadora laps up the attention her status as a member of the royal family like it’s honey. I would prefer a wife who favors obscurity to the limelight,” he said as he looked at her pointedly, moving closer to her on the settee. He was close enough she could smell his breath, the scent of liquor and cigars lingering on it like a foul cologne. “I have learnt we don’t always get what we want, no matter how badly we desire it.”
Josephine didn’t like how Duncan’s hand had found his way onto her knee. Though there were several layers of petticoats and a velvet skirt between her flesh and his fingertips, she could tell from the desire gleaming in his eyes, he wished it weren’t the case. She quickly jerked up from her seat and scurried towards the exit, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.