Matthew dropped his shoes to the ground and settled back on the grass. He wiggled his free toes before stuffing them into his stockings and shoes. He had anticipated his return to London would be difficult. Deliberately delaying his plans to allow himself time to heal. Five months and twenty-six days had apparently not been long enough. Emotions Matthew thought banished and sworn never to feel again returned in full force. After only being in Grace’s company twice, they were strangely stronger than ever before. Time had not lessened his love for her. Damnation, the woman was betrothed to another. How many times must he remind himself of the fact? Why could he not dismiss the useless desire to have Grace back in his arms?
As he rolled to his feet, candlelight glinting off the windows captured his attention—time to return to the party and come out of hiding. He ran a hand down his coat sleeve and tugged at his cuffs as he mentally prepared to be once again boxed in with the other guests.
Standing behind a potted plant, he peered through the glass. Ellingsworth is an absolute buffoon. Matthew’s jaw clenched as the man’s grating laugh floated across the room out onto the terrace. Good gracious—that is what Grace considered charming?
Ellingsworth stared at Lady Mary, now Countess Waterford, as she spoke, wearing a frown of pure confusion. His eyes darted to her décolletage and then to Waterford, as if to see if her husband had caught his errant gaze. What a dolt! Waterford would pound him to the ground. Instead of rage, Waterford wore an obsequious expression. The buzzing in Matthew’s brain triggered a slew of theorems to swirl about in his mind.
A rainbow of colors reflected off the glass and recaptured Matthew’s attention. Mr. Jones, who had endured months of imprisonment with Matthew, stood in the corner dressed as a guest this eve instead of his usual footman’s disguise. The man angled an empty glass Matthew’s way, signaling that he had been spotted.
With his mind awhirl, Matthew stepped back from view, observing the interesting byplay between Ellingsworth and Waterford. Eyes shut tight, Matthew tried to recall the complex line diagram that he and Grace had compiled during the past several years. It outlined the interconnections between those Matthew believed were PORFs and those who displayed the symbol of their support. The Burke family name had continuously emerged in Matthew’s investigations, which meant that Lord Burke was not only a danger to Matthew but also to the Crown. The air from his lungs left him as grief hit him square in the chest—he and Grace were no longer a team investigating matters. And specifically not the one that originally brought them together in the first place.
Seeking a glimpse of Grace, Matthew peeked around the bush. His gaze was caught by the sight of Mr. Jones staring intently at his sister. Lucy had always been a beauty, but marriage and parenthood had added an extra glow despite the dark circles under her eyes. Matthew had long considered Blake like a brother even before he married Lucy. He had missed their wedding, but he’d heard from multiple sources it was a rare occurrence for the pair to be separated.
Grace had always favored Blake. His unique skills to recall information and faces, along with his ability for illustration, was unmatched. An order from Grace was the only logical explanation for him to agree to be separated from Lucy. Didn’t Grace realize with twins Lucy would need her husband’s help? Blake would never disobey an order. The tightness in his chest eased a tad. He would send both Mama and Edward, his younger brother, to accompany Lucy to Shalford Castle. They could help Lucy and stay out of harm’s way. The perfect plan.
A light vanilla scent wafted on the breeze. Theo was nearby. Childhood memories of him chasing Theo and Lucy down the corridors of Halestone Hall flashed before him. One corner of his lips turned upward into a grin as he recalled threatening to pull their pigtails if they tattled. Matthew turned away from the glass windows and was confronted by sparkling, emerald-colored eyes.
Theo narrowed her gaze and said, “You look rather pleased with yourself. What mischief are you planning?”
As a boy, it had been Theo, not Lucy, who had thwarted all his childish pranks. The woman standing before him now was no longer the skinny little girl he grew up with. No, the lady staring back at him was in every way Archbroke’s match.
The smirk upon Theo’s face gave him pause about his plans. Both Archbroke and Grace possessed the inherent ability to convince others they were acting of their own accord when, in fact, the individual’s reactions were carefully devised by either the Home or Foreign Secretaries.
Perhaps Theo would provide the answer. Matthew replied, “My, my, Theo. How did you learn to sneak up upon a person without a sound?”
Theo shrugged. “One of the perks of marrying Archbroke.”
“Really, I wasn’t aware stealth was one of your husband’s stronger suits.”
“It’s not. However, Archbroke’s hearing is impeccable and hence the ultimate challenge.”
Matthew let out a chuckle. “I’m not sure what Baldwin would have thought of you marrying Archbroke.”
Theo’s eyebrow’s furrowed. “My brother would have been proud to call Archbroke brother-in-law. Just as you are to call Devonton so.”
The prickling sensation along the back of his neck returned. Theo’s modulated tone meant she was trying to hide something. Archbroke was one of the families Matthew had pegged as PORFs. It was the third family’s identity that alluded to him. If his theory was correct, Theo had become a PORF upon her marriage to Archbroke.
Matthew’s eyes flickered back toward the party. Archbroke flanked Lord Flarinton as if he was guarding the man.
Matthew asked, “Why is that?”
“I believe you already know the answer.” Theo shivered. “I’ve not come out into the cold to discuss Archbroke.”
Matthew glanced down at Theo’s still flat stomach. “You should not risk your health, given your condition.”
“My condition.” She ran a hand along her midsection. “Can you tell?”
“No. Archbroke, let the information slip.”
Theo snorted. “Slip? Hardly. The man never divulges information until he wants to.” Matthew followed Theo’s gaze as she looked over her shoulder through the glass at her husband. Archbroke had taken a step forward but then promptly returned to his discussion with Grace’s papa. Interesting that Theo could command the Home Secretary, one of the most influential men in all of England, with a mere look.
He raised an eyebrow at Theo as she turned to face him once more. “Impressive.”
“Archbroke will be next to me within the count of twenty. I’ve not much time. I need your help.”
The twinkle in Theo’s eyes remained. She was up to no good. “Help? With what, exactly?”
Either Theo counted quickly, or her estimation was severely overoptimistic, for Archbroke was nearly upon them.
Grabbing his wrist, Theo pleaded. “Promise. Promise, you will assist me.”
She shifted her hand and tightened her grip. Surely Theo wasn’t about to inflict the childish punishment they had once given each other when they were younger. Although Theo probably hadn’t had cause to employ her unique technique to cause rub burns, he still clearly remembered how effective it was. His wrists burned despite Theo not having moved; they were still raw from being bound for months.
Archbroke came to a stop beside Theo. He glared at the physical touch. “Love, why are you about to inflict pain upon Harrington?”
Theo released his wrist, but her gaze never left Matthew’s face.
He considered the woman like a sister, and of course, he would do anything she asked. Which she rarely did. Matthew released a sigh of resignation. “I’ll be around tomorrow to finish this discussion.”
Theo’s smile beamed with triumph. Possessively Archbroke placed his hand on Theo’s lower back. “What discussion?”
“Oh, nothing. We were just reminiscing and discussing childhood pranks. But I asked Matthew to visit tomorrow. I haven’t seen him since…” Theo’s eyes watered. “Well, since Baldwin died.”
At his wife’s upset, Archbroke’s pompous demeanor fell away and he swiped the lone tear that had escaped, rolling down her cheek. Archbroke murmured in a tone Matthew had never heard before, “Of course, Harrington should come to visit.” His superior then turned to address him directly. “We would be delighted to have you visit for a drink.”
Theo inched a step closer and whispered in her husband’s ear. With a slight roll of the eyes, Archbroke said, “You are welcome to visit our home regardless if I’m present or not.” The couple shared a look that simultaneously conveyed both a challenge and immense love for one another. How astonishing that both sentiments could be expressed within a singular stare. The dynamics between the pair were intriguing. There was a strong undercurrent of respect, freedom, and love that flowed between them. Matthew sucked in a breath. Theo and Archbroke’s connection mirrored the one he once had with Grace. They possessed the type of relationship he had hoped to return to upon his release from captivity.
Archbroke winged his arm. “It’s time we all return to the party.”
Matthew blindly followed the pair who were still nonverbally communicating. Why would Theo seek out his help when she had Archbroke clearly in hand?
Grace’s tinkling laughter brought his attention back to the couple who were the cause of the celebration. Ellingsworth looked down at the woman whose mere smile sent Matthew’s pulse racing. He couldn’t blame the man for looking like a besotted fool. After all, Ellingsworth was lucky to be marrying such an astonishing woman.
Matthew had to look away. Grace’s smiles were causing a cascade of emotions he dared not acknowledge. He needed to escape. He pushed his way through the crowd of guests to the foyer.
Lord Flarinton stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Lord Flarinton. I have another matter to attend to.”
“Don’t lie to me, boy.”
Ah. He was dealing with the astute mastermind of foreign affairs. The man he had considered like a papa since the death of his own. The man whom he wanted to model his own life after. But Lord Flarinton would never endorse the plans he had for Burke. Even if the man could recall all of Burke’s devious schemes. It had taken Matthew, Grace, and Lord Flarinton years to eliminate Burke’s smuggling rings and shut down his gambling halls that went without policing and drove many a man to his own death, leaving genteel families destitute. The only scheme left to disband was Burke’s most lucrative—the selling of English artifacts.
Flarinton’s gaze hardened. “You will stay and support Gracie, even if it kills you. That is an order.”
“Yes, my lord.” Matthew wouldn’t dream of denying the man.
Without Flarinton, Matthew would have failed as the primary liaison between the Home and Foreign offices, a role he had held up until his absence. Upon his return, Matthew was surprised that the position hadn’t been filled by either his sister or another agent, but by Theo. And from all accounts, the woman had done an outstanding job of ensuring the two departments worked together in harmony.
Matthew led Flarinton back to the party. As they reentered the room, Lady Flarinton’s strained features relaxed, the worry over her absent husband replaced by relief. Placing his clenched fists behind him, Matthew stood near the entrance and watched Flarinton return to his wife’s side. Ellingsworth stood slightly to Grace’s right. The man’s jovial smile was firmly in place until his gaze fell upon Matthew.
Matthew’s mind screamed. Turn. Leave.
The experience of another man standing mere inches away from Grace, exhibiting all the traits of a man infatuated with his betrothed, was far worse than what he had endured upon the Continent.