Chapter Twelve

“My Lord? Her ladyship is here to see you.”

Glancing up from his breakfast, Marcus watched as his mother swept past his butler and into the dining room. She stopped on the opposite side of the table and surveyed him, her blue eyes, identical in color to his own, creased in worry.

As usual, his mother was dressed impeccably, as befitting a countess. Her blue day dress was cut to perfection and her rich brown hair was styled in an elegant upsweep, with her bonnet set at such an angle to offset her classic profile to precision. For a woman in her fifties, his mother was the epitome of a lady of class and style.

But, as usual, there was the ever-present sadness in her expression that had been there since Nathaniel’s death, and only made worse after his father’s death. A sadness she couldn’t disguise from Marcus, no matter how she tried.

“It’s nice to see you, Mother,” Marcus said, uncomfortable at the formality he detected in his own voice as he stood to greet her. “Please, do take a seat. Coffee?”

“Yes, thank you,” she replied, sitting on the chair across from him, while one of his footmen filled a cup of coffee and handed it to her. “I am sorry to barge in on you like this.”

“I know why you’re here.” Marcus forestalled her. “The Gazette.”

She nodded her head, her hands gripping the coffee cup like a vise. “Yes, I received the news last night and I had to come and see how I can assist in refuting such lies.”

“I don’t think the pamphlet mentioned any details, did it?” he murmured, taking a sip of his own drink.

“It didn’t have to.” His mother’s smile was tight as she returned the cup to its saucer. “A man needs only to be mentioned as one of the future bachelors to be critiqued and everyone assumes the worst of him.”

“Then let me put your mind at ease,” he replied. “I’m not going to be critiqued in the Gazette.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” Marcus confirmed. “They will be printing a retraction shortly, and then, hopefully, my reputation will be restored.”

“Oh, that is marvelous.” She sighed heartily, her hands pressing up to her chest. “I was worried. Not, of course, about any suggestion that you are a scoundrel! But something like that could drastically hamper your future efforts to marry.”

And there it was. The other reason he avoided seeing his mother. “You know I have no intention of marrying ever again, yet you always mention it.”

She bit her bottom lip and for a moment Marcus felt himself weaken.

“I know Elizabeth’s lies and infidelities struck at your core,” she began. “But not all women are like that, Marcus. You could find a lovely, demure, polite, and docile lady who would make a perfect countess. You have such a big heart, with so much love to give—”

“If that is all, Mother, I must leave for a meeting.” He put down his cutlery and wiped his mouth with his serviette.

“No, please don’t go. I’m sorry to have mentioned it. I just want to see you happy…”

“Happy?” Marcus all but scoffed. “My last marriage was filled with misery and ensured my heart was well and truly annihilated. Trust me, I have no love left to give.”

“Then you’ve let Elizabeth win, my son.” His mother stood and smiled sadly at him. “And that is truly a tragedy because you would have made the most wonderful husband and father.”

Her words struck a hollow place in his heart and he had to control himself from slamming his fist down on the table. “Similar to how I made such a wonderful brother and son?”

“You must stop blaming yourself for Nathaniel’s death.” She raised her chin high. “And for your father’s. You know he had a heart episode. It had nothing to do with you.”

“He died because of heartache over Nathaniel’s death,” Marcus growled. “We all know Nathaniel was his favorite and part of father died the day he learned of Nathaniel’s passing.”

“Maybe,” his mother conceded. “But your sister and I are still here. You rarely visit us, and your sister misses you, as do I…” Her voice trailed off as she looked uncomfortably away from him. “And the house does belong to you, after all.”

After Nathaniel’s and his father’s deaths, he’d bought another residence, unable to stand the memories in the walls of the place he’d spent a good portion of his life in. Unable to bear seeing the pain in his mother and sister’s eyes every time they looked upon him.

“Can you honestly tell me you’re not reminded of Nathaniel and his death every time you see me?” Marcus asked her.

She was silent for a moment as she pressed her lips together. “Of course, you remind me of Nathaniel, he looked so like you… How could I not be reminded of him? And, of course, I sometimes wonder if he’d still be alive if he never followed in your footsteps, always wanting to be like his big brother. But that doesn’t mean I blame you, Marcus. I’ve never blamed you.”

“Well, I blame myself.”

“I know.” Her eyes had gotten moist and she was quick to look away from him. “I’m hopeful that one day you’ll be able to forgive yourself for something that was not your fault. In any event, I’m sorry to have troubled you this morning, though I did also wish to tell you Isabelle and I will be travelling to the country estate tomorrow. We both need some respite from the antics of the season and the London air. We would love for you to visit, if you get a chance in the next few weeks. I know the tenants around the estate would love to see you, too. Stay safe, Marcus.”

And then she swept from the room, the familiar scent of lilacs following in her wake.

Marcus closed his eyes and sighed. He loved his mother, but there would forever be the pain of Nathaniel’s death between them, as much as she hoped otherwise.

“My lord?” his butler intoned from the doorway. “Your carriage is ready.”

He glanced at the clock on the far wall and realized that it was time to leave. He had to meet Kat at the War Office, and knowing her, if he was even a minute late, she’d go ahead without him. Patience, it seemed, was not her strong suit.

He stood and strode to the front of his house and awaiting carriage.

For the entire trip, Marcus couldn’t stop thinking of the conversation he’d had with his mother. Always mentioning him remarrying was arduous, though he doubted his mother would push for matrimony if Kat was the intended bride. Certainly, she was an earl’s daughter, so his mother couldn’t complain about her suitability in that regard, but that’s basically where it ended. Kaitlyn would make the most unsuitable countess according to his mother’s standards of demureness, politeness, and docility. Kat was anything but those things.

Not that he was considering marrying her. No, he would never marry again, he’d made that clear. The idea had simply popped into his head because of his mother’s comments about the subject.

Perhaps he should pretend to be engaged to Kat, then when she supposedly cried off his mother would be so relieved, she’d never bother him about marriage again. The idea had some merit. Though he imagined that if he even suggested such a thing to Kat, she’d knock him onto his backside before he could even blink. The thought brought with it a grin.

Thirty minutes later, Marcus was standing beside the lady herself at the entrance to Cumberland House, which housed the War Office. The building was as magnificent as it was imposing, fashioned in the Palladian style as was so popular in the eighteenth century, when it was built. The grand, white columns stood proudly in the center of the edifice under the watchful eye of Her Majesty’s guards, who stood to attention along its perimeter.

“Ladies first.” Marcus motioned for Kat to go ahead through the entrance, his hand brushing against her arm, the very touch sending a sharp pang of desire through him.

Trying to ignore the visceral reaction, they both pulled out their identification paperwork, which the guard checked before opening the door and allowing them inside the building.

As they strode through the grand foyer, he found himself aware of the woman beside him, almost to the exclusion of everything else. He had to get a hold of himself. Such a distraction was dangerous.

He focused on his surroundings, the freshly polished marble floors and the familiar scent of lemon that permeated the entrance. The building itself was a treasure, with the classic circular design of the lobby and the two ornate stairways on either side curving up to both the east and west wing, lending an air of elegance one wouldn’t expect from a building housing the War Office. Though considering the building itself had originally belonged to the Duke of York and then the Duke of Cumberland, ornate was to be expected.

He peered up at the round glass pane built into the top of the roof over the lobby, not sure which of the dukes had had it installed, but as usual he marveled at the sight of it.

Though the edifice only distracted him for a moment before he found himself once again glancing out of the corner of his eye to Kat beside him. She was dressed in an emerald green skirt and matching jacket that set off the auburn in her hair and molded her body to perfection. With her regal bearing and height, she was a sight to behold, and he’d barely been able to look at anything else apart from her since seeing her waiting for him.

He was having to work damn hard to keep his hands to himself, especially after what they’d been doing together only last night after the Corinthian Club escapade. The very memories of which had invaded his sleep and lingered far too potently in his mind this morning.

Knowing he couldn’t compromise her further, and had already gone too far, was all that was keeping his hands from reaching for her. If he went any further with her, he’d be duty-bound to marry her, and he couldn’t do that, not after Elizabeth had soured him to the institution for life.

Which was why he still couldn’t understand how he’d let himself and the situation with Kat get so out of hand. It was out of character for him. He didn’t lose himself to passion, ever. At least he hadn’t before Kaitlyn Montrose, who seemed to ignite the emotion in him as if he was tinder. Damn it.

They walked over to the right staircase leading to the west wing.

“After you, my lady.” He held out his hand and motioned toward the stairs, which stretched up two levels above. He only just managed to resist brushing his hand against hers once again.

Kat inclined her head and led the way up. Apart from the “good morning” she had said in greeting to him when he’d arrived, she’d barely said a word to him all morning. Odd, but he actually found himself missing her bossy but sultry voice.

Something had to be wrong with him to enjoy verbally sparring with the lady. Shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, he followed her up to the second floor, where Fullbrink’s office was.

A frown crossed Marcus’s face when he realized Kat clearly knew the way, as she navigated the hallways and headed straight for the man’s office door without hesitation.

“Let me deal with him,” he said. “Fullbrink can be overly slow when it comes to decoding missives, unless he’s directed to do so by someone with authority.”

Kaitlyn raised a brow at his comment, while she rapped briskly on Fullbrink’s door before a cheerful voice bid them to enter. “I’ve never had to direct him to do anything to get a job done quickly. Watch and learn, Marcus Black. Watch and learn.”

As she pushed open the door and preceded him into the room, Marcus couldn’t stop his eyes from glancing down at the enticing sway of her hips as she sashayed inside. Right at that moment all he wanted to do was pull her back against him and cart her over his shoulder, back to his carriage. He shook his head over the notion. He was becoming a bloody Neanderthal when he was around her.

Following her into the room, his scowl deepened at the adoration currently dripping from Fullbrink’s face as the man caught sight of Kat. No wonder she didn’t have to do anything, Fullbrink was besotted with her.

“Lady Kaitlyn!” Fullbrink enthused, rushing around his desk and reverently grasping her hand. Fullbrink bowed low, his blond hair falling forward over his glasses as he placed a chaste kiss across Kat’s knuckles. “It is an honor to see you again!”

Kaitlyn smiled. “You too, Mr. Fullbrink.” She had to gently extract her hand from his grip, while Marcus had to restrain himself from ripping the man’s hand from his body.

The young man continued to smile goofily at her. “An absolute honor to have you here.”

“You’ve already said that, Fullbrink.” Marcus couldn’t believe what a fool Fullbrink was making of himself, fawning all over Kat. Marcus would never be caught making such a fool of himself over any woman, not even one he wanted to pleasure until she was screaming in delight. He cleared his throat. “We’re in a hurry.”

“Ah, Lord Westwood!” Fullbrink exclaimed, finally realizing that Marcus was there, too, as he regretfully tore his eyes from Kaitlyn and gave his attention to Marcus. “Good to see you again, too. How may I help you both today?”

Pulling out the red journal from the pocket of his jacket, Marcus pressed it into the man’s chest, causing Fullbrink to stumble back a step. “We need you to decipher this.” Watch and learn, would he? He’d show her how he got things done.

Fullbrink’s eyes lit up at the request as he grabbed ahold of the book. There was nothing the man loved more than deciphering a coded message, and this was a whole ledger. Flipping open the cover, he began leafing through the pages as he returned to the chair behind his desk. “Hmm…interesting. Very interesting,” he muttered, sitting down on the well-worn seat. “Some sort of cipher, but not a usual one I’d readily recognize. It might take me a bit of time to decipher it.”

“How long?” Marcus asked.

The young man shrugged. “Maybe a few days? I have to work out the cipher key first, and then decode it all.”

“We need it sooner,” Marcus told him.

“It’s a difficult cipher, my lord.” Fullbrink continued to rifle through the pages. “I shall do my best to have it to you sooner, but I can’t promise anything.”

Kat wandered over and perched on the edge of Fullbrink’s desk. “Mr. Fullbrink, it’s dreadfully important.” She stared steadily at the man. “Lives are at stake, you see.”

Marcus’s frown deepened as Fullbrink started nodding like his head was about to fall off.

“The information in that journal,” she continued, “must be decrypted in the shortest possible time. And you are the best cryptologist in the country, so if anyone can have it done sooner, I am confident it’s you.”

Marcus felt a low anger start to burn in the pit of his stomach, as the young man stared at her like a goddamn puppy, his eyes straying to her décolletage on far too many occasions. Marcus was going to smash the young pup’s face into the damn desk if he didn’t stop looking at her bosom.

“I would consider it such a favor if you could,” she said with a gentle smile tilting up the corner of her lips.

Fullbrink all but started drooling, Marcus was sure.

“Of course, I will make it my main priority!” Fullbrink declared. “You can count on me, Lady Kaitlyn. I should have something for you in a few hours. I’ll get to work on it straight away.”

“I knew we could rely on you, Mr. Fullbrink.” She straightened and stood, shooting Marcus a satisfied “I told you” smile in the process, just as the door to Fullbrink’s office opened and a tall, thin man rushed in.

“Lord Westwood! Thank goodness I caught you before you left.”

Marcus glanced over as Neville Glouster, the Secretary of State for War’s clerk, came to a stop in front of him.

“We only just arrived, Glouster,” Marcus said. “What’s wrong?”

The man heaved a sigh of relief. “Lord Danbury and Sir Albert wish to speak with you immediately, in the Secretary’s office, my lord. It’s urgent.”

It was always urgent with Lord Danbury. The man thought himself the most important person in England, aside from the queen, being that he was in charge of the entire War Office of the British Empire. Marcus sighed. The true power, though, belonged to his two deputies, Sir Albert Tanning who was the Under Secretary of State for War, and Sir William, who was in charge of the Intelligence section of the Department.

Lord Danbury was more a mouthpiece for the position, which was appropriate as the man loved to hear his own voice.

Marcus had hoped to get in and out without a fuss, but that was not to be. He turned and shot Fullbrink a hard glare. “You work on the ledger, and you”—he turned and eyed Lady Kaitlyn—“come with me.”

Glouster held up his hands. “Oh no, my Lord. They requested to see you. There was no mention of Lady Kaitlyn.”

“If they wish to speak with me, then she’s coming, too.” He wasn’t going to leave her with Fullbrink. The poor man would think himself smitten if he did. “She has the required clearance, does she not?”

“Well, yes, she does…” Glouster looked highly uncomfortable but nodded in resignation.

“Is Sir William going to be there?” Marcus asked him.

“No, he received an urgent missive earlier and had to rush off. If you will follow me.” Glouster ushered them out the door and indicated for them to follow.

Marcus placed a hand on Kat’s elbow and they followed Glouster down the hallway. “Have you met Lord Danbury and Sir Albert Tanning before?”

“Not personally, no,” she replied, her steps staying in stride with his. “All of my dealings with the Department have been through Sir William.”

“Do try and behave yourself, will you? They will not be as easily swayed by you as young Fullbrink was.”

He was completely wrong.

The woman had barely been introduced to them both before she had charmed the two old codgers as if it was child’s play. After meeting them, and subtly reminding them she was Victor Montrose’s niece, whose resources regularly helped the Department, she then proceeded to flatter the men with a deftness bordering on genius. She had them completely wrapped around her finger and their previous concerns about her presence allayed in under two minutes flat. Marcus had counted.

Who would have thought Kat was so charming? Obviously, she only employed such a skill when she wanted to. She’d never tried to charm him. Though, in all truth, he rather preferred her bluntness.

It was disheartening to see two such experienced men fawn all over themselves in an attempt to impress Lady Kaitlyn. Darn right embarrassing, actually. But he had to give it to the lady, her skills were impeccable.

Marcus shook his head in reluctant acceptance. The woman had a gift. She seemed able to send a man scuttling away with a glance, or have him hanging off her every word, depending on what she wanted from him. A useful skill for a semi-spy. That fact made her dangerous, and not simply because of her deadly aim, with both her knee and dagger. No, she could use her wiles to manipulate men. Just like Elizabeth. At least he wouldn’t be stupid enough to allow himself to be manipulated a second time.

Marcus smiled briefly, wondering what the two men would do if she demonstrated her knife skills. It was one thing for them to be charmed by her smile and words, quite another to experience the extent of her other abilities firsthand. The two men, who prided themselves on their impeccable manners, would be shocked if not scandalized, Marcus was certain.

“You both wished to speak to me about the Chameleon?” Marcus decided to put a stop to the nonsense before it went on any longer.

Lord Danbury raised a quizzing glass up to his right eye and glanced at Marcus. “Quite right, Westwood, we did. But there is a lady present.” His voice sounded slightly put out to have had his flirtation with Lady Kaitlyn cut short.

“She’s working with me on the matter, Danbury,” Marcus curtly informed him. “And her resources will only assist us in finding the man quicker.”

There was an expression of perhaps distaste in the man’s eyes at the thought of a lady assisting, as the man was well-known as a conformist for the proprieties, but Danbury didn’t have the nerve to say anything further on the matter in front of them. “Very well, then. Sir Albert, fill them in.”

Sir Albert nodded his balding head and leaned forward from where he sat, glancing first at Marcus, then Kat. He lowered his voice somewhat. “We’ve received some reliable whispers that the Chameleon has returned to London and has been provided with a list of seven targets to assassinate.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Seven? That’s a lot.”

“Yes, whoever hired him must be extremely wealthy, which is something we’re looking into,” Sir Albert said. “Unfortunately, the man I had tasked to attempt to retrieve a copy of the list of names was unsuccessful. His body was found floating in the Thames this morning.”

The room was silent for a moment.

Sir Albert caught his eye. “We must stop the Chameleon. He has killed too many Englishmen and sold too many secrets to the Russians. We can’t allow him to succeed and kill more Englishmen, not on our watch.”

“Goodness, no,” Lord Danbury added. “We cannot let an assassin have free rein in England. It is not to be tolerated. We would look like a bunch of fools.”

Marcus refrained from advising Danbury that the man already appeared quite the fool without the Chameleon’s help. “Tell me what you know,” he said to Sir Albert, who actually would know.

Sir Albert sighed, his rotund figure slumping a little in the chair. “Not much, I’m afraid. Two days ago, I received word the Chameleon had met with someone here in London and was given a list of names to assassinate. Subsequently, I sent an agent to make some inquiries, but, regretfully, he was met with a bullet between his eyes for his efforts.”

Marcus shook his head. Another life to be added to the Chameleon’s ever-growing list of kills. The assassin had to be stopped, but how did one catch a ghost?

Sir Albert stood and began pacing across the oriental rug covering the floor. “We must thwart his plans before he can assassinate another person.”

“We need to know who the targets are,” Kaitlyn said from where she was seated beside Lord Danbury. “Do we know any of the names on the list?”

Sir Albert paused before hurrying on. “Not yet. We’ve only heard of the list.”

Marcus and Kat shared a look. The man wasn’t telling the truth.

“Dreadful business, this!” Lord Danbury waved his hand in the air as if to emphasize his displeasure. He pinned Marcus with his beady gaze. “You must put this situation to rest and find this darn fellow! We can’t have men assassinated on my watch. The queen would not be impressed, and I could lose my position.”

“How dreadful that would be,” Marcus remarked drolly.

“Yes indeed!” Danbury agreed, clearly not recognizing the sarcasm in Marcus’s comment. “Now I must be off. I have an appointment at Westminster.” He stood and bowed over Lady Kaitlyn’s hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, my lady. Please, though, do not get too caught up in this game. Best leave it to the men to handle.” He patted her hand.

Marcus very nearly laughed at the look of haughty rage Kaitlyn directed at Lord Danbury’s obtuse face as she deftly pulled her hand free from his grasp.

Lord Danbury turned to Marcus, oblivious of the mental daggers Kat was shooting him. “Westwood, do keep Sir Albert informed of your progress. I expect you to control this situation.”

“You do, do you?” Marcus stared down the man.

The War Secretary paled under the intensity of Marcus’s gaze, before he turned and hurried from the room.

Marcus turned to Sir Albert, who regarded him with concern. “What are you not telling us?” he asked without reservation.

“I can’t get anything past you, can I?” Sir Albert appeared happy with that fact. “And, yes, I wasn’t telling you both the full truth.” Sir Albert sighed. “Though it’s true my informant didn’t find out all the names on the list before he was murdered, there was a note found in his waistcoat pocket suggesting he may have discovered one of the names. The ink had run but the word was still legible enough on the parchment, though I did not wish to mention it in front of Lord Danbury.”

“Why?”

“Because it would have only panicked him.” He looked between Marcus and Kat with an expression of reluctant acceptance on his face. “It was his name on the paper. So, I rather suspect that that makes the Secretary himself a target of the assassin.”