The soft figure in his arms relaxed and swayed back into him with an exaggerated sigh as she loosened her grip from where she dug her fingers into his arm. Turning her in his arms, Thomas knew a moment of delight as he set eyes on her and felt the world shift briefly back to stability. The fleeting moment dissipated in the blink of an eye as she stiffened again within his loose embrace, setting a mask of stone across her features and directing her gaze over his shoulder. Releasing her, he stepped back.
“And you think shouting during the day is worse than at night? Can you never announce your presence when I enter?” she fumed.
“Where would be the amusement in that?” He attempted a grin, only to be met by a scathing glare. Clearing his throat, he began anew. “What has you so agitated? You came in here like the hounds of hell were on your heels and locked yourself in. What’s wrong?”
Her eyes widened and a measure of the stiffness in her expression faded. Her eyes returned to the journal she’d been so ardently studying only a few moments before.
In truth, Thomas made no attempt to hide his presence, but her single-minded focus prevented her from seeing him. Indeed, she’d walked directly by him no less than three times, lost in thought.
“Something your aunt mentioned this morning when I went down to see her,” she began, returning to the desk, her ire momentarily forgotten as her brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together in a movement which spoke of frustration. “It sparked a memory of something I’d seen in the journal,” she nodded her head toward the book, then remembered herself and turned toward him, shoulders back and chin lifted. “Which I assume is why you’re here? You should have taken it last night.”
“You’re correct,” Thomas admitted, careful to remain in place despite wanting to draw closer to both Sarah and the book, as though he might glean her deeper meaning merely from glancing at the pages. He avoided any mention of his level of distraction the night before. “My poor timing couldn’t be helped, I’m afraid. What did my Aunt say?”
The determination in her stance wavered, and she gave in to gnawing at her lip, shoulders drooping a fraction. “She went into a monologue about the poor circumstances of Lord Addington’s mother.”
Thomas attempted not to smile. Sarah had been in such a state he thought something monumental must have occurred. “She’s been relating the same to me for years since I took employment with Addington.”
“Did she mention his mother’s family name was Arseneau?”
“Once or twice, yes, but what of it?”
“Well, look!” Sarah snatched up the journal and thrust it in his direction, pointing to the passage she’d been contemplating.
Stepping closer to take the book, Thomas recognized the page in an instant. He sucked in a breath, debating how best to dismiss Sarah’s conviction without offending her further.
“I can see how you drew your conclusions, but as you said yourself, the connection is impossible.”
“Why?” She challenged. “Improbable, yes, but Mr. Cartwright was adamant the culprit positioning himself to diffuse vital information to the French was one of your own comrades. Would it not make sense for that person to either have access to the most critical information or easy access to it?”
Thomas hesitated. All of Sarah’s points were valid. He’d considered the potential French connections of every agent he knew of except Lord Addington. His mind never fell on Addington because he shone so obviously… “Above suspicion,” he whispered.
“What?” Sarah angled a confused look up at him.
“Something your brother constantly had to remind me of, and I have still managed to forget. No one is above suspicion.”
“So, you’ll look into it?” She questioned, clasping her hands in front of her.
He didn’t want to disappoint her, but likewise wanted to avoid charging in the wrong direction. “If the accumulated information warrants it, yes.”
He pursed his lips and began to pace, turning from Sarah as he thought. “But at present it doesn’t seem warranted.”
“But—”
“The reason being,” he turned at her protest and held up a hand to stall her. “Everything from the letters and lists we found seems to point in the direction of a man named Manchester, not Arseneau.”
“Manchester?”
“Yes. Graham was on the verge of linking the man to our potential intelligence leak just before being forced into hiding.” Thomas sank back into his thoughts, angling to begin pacing again. “If I can find additional information on—”
Sarah tugged at his sleeve, throwing off both his balance and his thought process. “You must speak with Eric.”
“Why?” He blinked, taking note of the small fingers lightly digging into the fabric of his coat.
“A few months ago, he had me sit in on a meeting with another agent and a man they were trying to get information from,” She clarified, beginning to bob her head as she recalled the scene. “They were posing as merchants with an interest in improving their profits via the smuggling trade. They mentioned a Mr. Manchester as their contact, that seemed to put the other man at ease.”
“So, Eric has now come to the same conclusions as Graham had,” Thomas mused.
“Not entirely,” Sarah shook her head. “I think he knows Manchester is an important link but is unaware of any connection within your agency.”
Thomas remained mute, his mind struggling to connect all the pieces of information.
“And another thing,” Sarah continued. “You must—”
A knock sounded at the door. Almost without hesitation, Sarah indicated the screen in the corner and Thomas nodded, moving toward the cover as she prepared to answer the door.
“Yes?” She intoned with a smile after assuring herself Thomas couldn’t be seen and opening the door a fraction.
“Sorry to interrupt you, miss,” a young maid curtsied. “But this just arrived for you.” The woman handed over a folded note. “The messenger said it was urgent, insisted you receive it right away.”
“Thank you,” Sarah nodded, taking the note and dismissing the maid with a nod before closing the door again.
“How very odd,” Thomas heard her mumble as he rounded the corner of the screen, followed by the pop of a seal being broken.
“Who is it from?” he asked.
She looked up at him, paling through her lingering confusion. Thomas hastened to her side.
“Lord Addington.” She handed him the note.
“What?” Thomas took the paper and began to scan it over, recognizing with ease the hand of his employer. “But why would he send you a request for a meeting?” He mused aloud after completing his inspection.
“Perhaps he’s trying to find information about you, your aunt said he came here this morning.”
“This morning?” Thomas studied Sarah’s expression, then shook his head. “That wouldn’t make sense. There’s no more information to be gained now than there was when I went into hiding, and he wouldn’t be doing this sort of work himself, he’d send someone else.”
“What should I do?” Her voice took on a panicked edge. “That isn’t a request, he says he’s coming here and expects to see me.” She looked up at him with wide eyes.
“There’s not much you can do,” he muttered. “The man expects the world to function according to his dictate. You’ll have to meet with him and find out what he wants.”
“But Thomas—”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Everything we’ve discussed is conjecture and not worth getting anxious about until I have the time to review the journal in conjunction with the rest of the papers we found.”
Sarah nodded and swallowed, struggling to regain her calm and rational demeanor.
“The meeting time is only an hour off,” he continued, bringing his hands up to rest on her shoulders. To his immense relief, she didn’t shrug him away. “When he arrives, take him to my study; there’s a door l
eading to a side room. I’ll be on the other side listening.”
She nodded, not appearing reassured. “I hope it’s as you say, Thomas, but this worries me.
Thomas remained silent, it worried him as well. More than a little.
Chapter 12
Sarah entered Thomas’ study with her head held high despite the frantic beating of her heart in her chest. As she’d done earlier that day, she forced herself to walk at a normal pace, focusing her attention on Lord Addington rather than giving in to the temptation of glancing toward the side room door.
“Lord Addington,” she greeted him. “What an unexpected pleasure.”
The man turned from where he’d taken up residence beside the window, squinting out into the street as though every pedestrian walking by offended him. Removing his elbow from the frame, he fixed her with a look of extreme distaste topped by irritation. A flash of apprehension almost sent her retreating, but she reminded herself of Thomas. This meeting might be of great importance to him and for that she would muster what courage she could.
Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he made no move to greet her politely, instead raking that suspicious gaze over her as though sizing her up for judgment. She lifted her chin against the scrutiny, returning his assessment with a stiffness every bit as haughty as his. Though Thomas and Eric had worked for the man for years, she’d never met him. Partly because he’d been unaware of Eric’s work for a good portion of those years. The man’s full head of gray hair contrasted with an otherwise still youthful face which sported deep furrows along its brow. Those features, coupled with the sharp angles of his face and frame, created a harsh and uninviting countenance.
“You’ll forgive me, Miss. Langdon,” he began in an icy tone, “But I cannot say the same.”
Halting beside the desk, Sarah raised her brows. “How unfortunate. Especially since it is at your request that I’m here. Might I ask the purpose of your call? Your message was rather vague on that point.”
Addington scoffed. “My request? Your own enterprising schemes placed you here, but they will see you run to ground just as surely.” He spoke as though to himself, moving toward the bookcases lining the wall and examining the spines, leaning in but careful to keep his hands tucked behind his back and not allowing the edges of his coat to brush the shelf.
“I beg your pardon?” Surprise heightened the pitch of Sarah’s words. “Enterprising schemes?”
“Don’t bother feigning indignation,” he turned away from her, likely to mask the roll of his eyes which she felt sure accompanied the irritation in his voice. “An unmarried woman takes up residence in a bachelor’s home under the auspices of a questionably capable brother in the guise of a doting companion to an old woman? You didn’t think I’d see through that in an instant?”
Sarah felt her features blanch and she swayed in place. “I have no idea what you’re—”
“Save us both the time and don’t bother arguing, Miss Langdon. I knew there had to be some missing piece in the works, and your movements confirmed it. It was only the ineptitude of these city watchmen which prevented my notice of you earlier. They didn’t deem it necessary to inform me of your presence.”
“Missing piece in what, Lord Addington?” Sarah breathed, her head spinning. Managing to keep her chin up, she nevertheless leaned her hip heavily against the edge of the desk and wrestled with her breaths to keep them from appearing too shallow.
Ignoring her question, he paced over to a console, focusing his attention on the mirror above it and adjusting his cravat. “Your brother is doing excellent work, Miss Langdon.”
Sarah’s heart clenched.
“You almost got away with it, you know.” Addington continued. “I wondered for the longest time how Mallory went about it. I knew he had help, of course. The way my associates so readily accepted your brother in their ranks leaves me fearful for the state of the nation, but I knew there had to be someone else.”
Clenching her fists at her sides, Sarah straightened to glare at Lord Addington. “Have you met my brother?” She questioned.
“Of course not, I won’t be seen within ten feet of him, I’m not so gullible as my agents seem to be.”
Sarah ground her teeth. “Lord Addington, you accused me a moment ago of attempting to waste your time. And yet you stand here throwing insults and accusations. If your purpose is to enmesh me in some nefarious plot, why have you not already arrested me?”
“Bravo,” he countered with a mirthless smile, the hint of a chuckle rasping in his throat. “Because, Miss Langdon, I give you and the other members of your sex who fancy dabbling in matters beyond your comprehension and which need not concern you only marginally more credit for sense than I do your brother. I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt in your involvement with Mallory, that you were perhaps unaware of his traitorous activity and believed yourself to be aiding a good cause.”
“Traitorous activity?”
“Ah, I see I was correct in my deduction. Yes. Mallory has been providing information to the French and obstructing intelligence operations meant to benefit England.” He paused, narrowing his eyes at her.
Her skin crawled under his inspection and only the desk behind her prevented her from backing away from the intensity of it.
“More unfortunate for you perhaps is he seems to have infected your brother with his scheming, but you must have been prepared for such an outcome when you set your brother in your stead as his informant.”
“What? No!”
Knees going weak and unable to fight it any longer, Sarah paced to the chair in front of the desk and perched on the edge of the seat, clutching at the arm. Thomas’ admonishments on first finding her here came back to haunt her. “My brother is no traitor,” she insisted. “I don’t believe a word of this.”
“Don’t you?” Addington mused, his unrelenting stare weighing heavy on Sarah, pressing her shoulders forward and her chin down. “I’ve come here to make you an offer of leniency.”
Confused, Sarah looked up at the man taking delight in tearing her world asunder.
“Tell me where to find Mallory, and I will testify to your innocence and argue for compassion in your brother’s case.”
He crept toward her as he spoke, his voice low and dark, causing Sarah to shrink back in the chair. “You—” She squeaked, then swallowed and tried again. “You have no proof of any of this.”
Now he laughed outright, a sinister encroachment into her swiftly contracting space of safety. “You think so? Are you willing to test your point? Your brother is on the brink of arrest and your lover a hair’s breadth from the gallows. I’m offering this one kindness. Accept, and you and your brother come out no worse for wear, provided your brother makes no additional detrimental ties. Make a move to warn either of them of their imminent downfall and see how fast their necks stretch.”
“If you’re so sure of your conclusions,” Sarah’s voice wavered as she attempted to straighten her spine, “Why bother with me at all? Why not just detain the lot of us and have done with it?”
Addington’s nostrils flared. “Because I grow weary of this prolonged process,” he growled. Mallory is a practiced coward, he’s hidden himself well, and while I will find him, I always attempt first the most expedient route toward my goals.”
He straightened and tugged at his lapels, his features settling into a bored neutrality as he turned toward the door. “You have three days to think it over. If you haven’t turned Mallory over to me within that time, both you and your brother will be detained. Any attempt to go into hiding yourself will be met with similar consequences. I’ve doubled the guard here and sent agents to watch your brother.”
“Lord Addington,” Sarah managed with a faltering, breathless voice as she rose to her feet. He paused in the doorway and turned back. “Mrs. Prescot was sorry to miss you this morning. She held your mother in high regard.”
A flash of murderous anger blazed in his eyes for only a second before rece
ding, the hint of a flush crept along his jaw and disappeared. Spinning about, he continued his march out of the house. Motionless, rooted to the spot, Sarah’s ears strained to hear the front door close before she allowed herself to breathe. An instant later she ran toward the door, heedless of Thomas attempting to stall her, unapologetic when she crossed paths with a maid and caused the woman to drop the carefully folded linens she carried, cognizant only of her desperate need to shut herself away in the comforting surroundings of her room.
Flying past him faster than he could reach out as he opened the door to the side room, Thomas watched Sarah disappear into the hall. Not daring to call after her and unable to rush out on her heels, he trotted to the door and peeked into the hall. An unfortunate maid had stumbled into Sarah’s path, her freshly laundered and folded linens now littering the floor. The woman paused long enough to shake her head at Sarah’s receding form charging up the stairs, then knelt to begin repairing the damage to the linens so she could get on with her work.
Without any option of exiting the room, Thomas paced and growled in silence until the maid resumed her chore and disappeared down the hall. The one benefit of his entrapment was it forced him to think. Taking up a small pacing route, he considered what Addington had said. One thing stood out with clarity. Thomas’ days were now numbered. Three. He had to find a definitive way of outwitting Addington before the man could cause any harm to either Sarah or Eric.
Impatient, he returned to the door. Opening it by cautious degrees, he surveyed the hall and front foyer, determining the route to be free of staff before he hastened after Sarah, hoping his mad dash up the stairs would not end in running into someone once he reached the top.
Concern and frustration mounted with each step. Something had upset Sarah far more than the deceptive and harsh words Addington had doled out. He initially feared she’d taken the man’s words to heart and perhaps now doubted her continued support of him, but set that notion aside knowing she would never lose faith in her brother.
A Clandestine Affair (Currents of Love Book 5) Page 10