Alex leaned back in the leather-bound armchair of the Marquis of Hastings’ private office in Whitehall. He did not dare consult the pocket watch in his tastefully embroidered celestial blue waistcoat. Besides, he was certain that time had stood still since he had received the summons.

Lord Hastings gave him no clue to his thoughts. The marquis’ deep brown eyes, however, remained on Alex’s face. Alex felt the seconds ticking off. He heard Davis Laughton, who stood guard behind the marquis, shift impatiently in his brown coat.

“I regret, my boy,” Lord Hastings said, “that I can no longer rely simply on your word as a gentleman that you are not involved with this foreign spy affair. We heard from someone who swears to your involvement.”

Alex reminded himself to remain cool. Losing his temper had nearly cost him Katherine. Losing it now could cost him his life. “And who told you this?” he asked Hastings. “Am I not allowed to know the name of my accuser?”

Hastings was equally calm. “Normally, yes. However, the note came anonymously. I hope to shortly remedy that situation, but at the moment, it is all we have to go on.”

“Yet you accept the word of this unknown person over mine?” Alex tried to keep his tone level, but his irritation must have been evident for Hastings sighed.

“Dashed irregular, I grant you,” the marquis said, “but we are faced with dire times. Napoleon is becoming desperate with his recent losses on the Peninsula and the Austrian front. If you believe even half of the rumors circulating, we have spies everywhere.”

“I commiserate on the difficulties that must present you,” Alex replied. “But surely you know me well enough to vouch for my honor.”

“On other occasions I would be only too delighted. But this particular report is quite damaging. It is specific, and concerns information we know for a fact has reached the French.”

A chill swept over him. “Someone seeks to deflect the blame from himself to me.”

“Quite possible,” Hastings agreed. “Allow me to ask you a few questions. I am certain you will clear your name easily and be back to that important appointment with your tailor in no time.”

“My tailor isn’t that important,” Alex muttered, but he nodded for the marquis to continue.

Hastings leaned forward as if by doing so he could smell the truth of Alex’s answers. “Have you been approached by anyone suspicious?”

“No.”

“Have you hired any new servants?”

“No.”

“Is there any reason you might be blackmailed?”

Alex scowled. “None whatsoever.”

“What do you recall of the Willstencraft ball?”

He cocked his head. That was an odd question to throw in. The specifics Lord Hastings had spoken of must have to do with the event. He tried to remember anything different, but aside from his interactions with Katherine and her stepsister, it had been no better or worse than any other Society event that Season.

“Half the ton attended,” he offered. “The music was tedious, refreshments abysmal. Lady Janice’s gown will likely set a new trend in low necklines, though few gentlemen appeared to mind. I imagine a grand time was had by all.”

Hastings’ gaze bore into him. “You noticed nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Aside from the fact that you had Trevithan and Laughton watching the flock for wolves? No, not really.”

He smiled. “Noticed them, did you? Very observant. Did anyone approach you?”

Alex raised a brow. Someone at the ball had passed secrets then. He was certain it was no one he knew. “I had any number of friends and acquaintances in attendance,” he told Hastings. “At one time or another, they each approached me.”

“To be sure. Allow me to be more specific. Trevithan reports that twice you disappeared for protracted periods. He confirms that at least once you were out on the terrace, but he could not identify your partner. Care to enlighten me as to what occurred?”

The two periods were obviously when he had been with Miss Templeman and Katherine. He glanced at Davis Laughton. The young spy was examining a thread that held a shiny gold button to his chamois waistcoat. He acted as if he had no interest in the conversation, although Alex was certain he was listening to every word. Surely he was used to keeping state secrets. Would he value a lady’s reputation as highly? Alex wasn’t sure he could take the chance.

“I was with a lady,” he replied to Hastings. “Surely you will understand that I cannot say more.”

Hastings’ face was grave. “And I am certain you will understand that I cannot let you hide behind that excuse.”

“Then perhaps I should find another,” Alex quipped. “My memory is foggy, my lord. I do not recall what I did or with whom I did it. The penalty for having entirely too many ladies dangling at once, I fear.”

His lordship frowned. “This is no game, Borin. Your ability to tell us what happened during those moments is critical to proving your innocence.”

Alex met his gaze in challenge. “And can you promise me that if I tell you all, the lady’s innocence will remain?”

Hastings shook his head. “I am sorry, but I cannot. We would, of course, have to speak with the lady to corroborate your story.”

Knowing Katherine, she would probably be only too delighted to visit the War Office. But her stepsister would also have to visit. If it became known, Alex could imagine the glee Lord Templeman would take in relating the damaging tale to the ton. Miss Templeman might never find a suitable husband. He traded his life for hers.

Davis Laughton was watching him, dark eyes thoughtful. Hastings was obviously waiting for him to reply. “Have you nothing to say?” he urged.

Alex squared his shoulders. “Nothing, my lord.”

The marquis sighed. “You make things difficult for me, my boy. I will ask you one last time. Knowing that I may have to send you to prison to await trial for treason if you do not answer, where were you and what were you doing during your absence from the Willstencraft ball?”

Alex took a deep breath. “I cannot tell you where I was at the Willstencraft ball, my lord. And that is my final word on the subject.”

 

–

 

Of course, Katherine insisted on leaving immediately for the War Office. Sir Richard attempted to dissuade her, but she would have none of it.

“We may not know why they accused him,” she argued, “but it may have something to do with his shadow. We know more about the fellow than anyone except Lord Borin. At the very least, we can assure them of his lordship’s character.”

In the end, Sir Richard could only capitulate. Constance and Bixby also indicated their interest in helping, so the four of them hailed a hack and hurried to the War Office.

Getting to see Lord Hastings, however, proved to be more difficult. Katherine was a little surprised to find that her uncle and Bixby were well known to many of the senior staff. They were met with salutes and bows wherever they went. It did not take them long to reach the private suite of the Marquis of Hastings. A young captain in an Oxford blue uniform stood guard before the entrance. He too seemed to know Sir Richard, but he refused to let them pass.

“His lordship is in an important meeting,” he explained. “I regret that I have been ordered not to disturb him.”

“But we have critical information,” Sir Richard began in protest. Katherine half listened as she eyed the loyal captain. He stood as tall as her uncle, with short-cropped raven hair and warm brown eyes. The only thing distinguishing him from any other eager captain was a small gold cross half-hidden by the black leather baldric crossing his chest. She had vowed not to manipulate except in a good cause, and surely this was the best. But not knowing the captain, she was hard-pressed to determine how she might appeal to him.

It was then that she noticed that he too was only half listening to the conversation. His warm smile was all for Constance, who stood at Sir Richard’s right elbow. Even more fascinating, however, was the way Constance dimpled at his look of admiration.

Katherine nudged Bixby beside her. Intent on the conversation between Sir Richard and the guard, he started, then turned to her with a frown. She nodded toward the captain and Constance and winked. Bixby followed her gaze, then grinned. She was certain he saw what she did. Katherine nodded again, hoping he would realize that she had a plan and would follow her lead.

The captain continued to offer seemingly sincere apologies. Sir Richard had run out of logic and was blustering, red-faced. Katherine stepped easily beside him, laying a hand on his arm. “Oh, dear,” she murmured aloud, “it is such a shame we cannot see Lord Hastings. Now we will have to leave London without saying farewell.”

Sir Richard frowned. She nodded toward Constance, who was gazing up at the guard from under her golden lashes. The captain was fiddling with his baldric as if trying to screw up his courage to speak to him. Her uncle’s brow cleared.

“Yes,” Sir Richard agreed, “a disappointment, to be sure. Constance, I imagine your heart will be broken. Constance?”

Constance’s dimple was showing, and she pursed her lips as she too cocked her head. One gloved hand toyed with the cross around her own neck. The guard winked at her.

“Constance?” Katherine repeated. “Will you not be heartbroken if we do not get to see Lord Hastings immediately?”

Constance blinked and focused on her with obvious difficulty, causing the guard to start as well. “Heartbroken?” her stepsister asked with a slight frown.

“Yes,” Katherine hissed with determination. “I should think it likely that you might even faint.”

Constance stared at her, then a slow smile spread. As if realizing someone might notice, she immediately sobered. “Oh, dear,” she murmured. “I fear you are right.” Her hand fluttered to her brow. “Oh, never to see dear Lord Hastings again. Never to gaze upon his wise brow. Never to hear words of encouragement from his noble mouth. Never to smell the sweet aroma of…”

“Yes, dear,” Katherine snapped as her stepsister once again warmed to her role, “we know how much you dote upon Lord Hastings. You must try to contain yourself.”

“I regret that I cannot allow you entrance,” the captain said consolingly. “But ‘He that waiteth on his master shall be honored.’”

Constance fell immediately out of character, beaming at him. “Proverbs 27:18,” she said. “I used to quote that verse whenever my governess seemed too strict.”

Katherine grit her teeth and nudged her as the captain smiled approvingly. “I think the captain is using it to remind you that we must return later. Is that what you want, Constance?” She could feel Sir Richard and Bixby watching her stepsister as if they held their breaths.

Constance blinked, obviously recalling herself. Her shoulders slumped. “Later?” she breathed, gazing up at the captain as her hand fell limply to her side. “But you do not understand. Later would be entirely too…late.”

“Precisely,” Katherine said. “Now, come away, Constance, before you drive yourself to a complete collapse.”

“I…I…,” Constance murmured, eyes rolling back in her head as her voice faded away. “I fear I am beyond help.” She crumpled elegantly toward the floor. The captain heroically scooped her up into his arms.

“How very embarrassing,” Sir Richard lamented, moving to block the edge of the door from the captain’s view. “My niece has such tender sensibilities. I apologize, Captain Randolph.”

Bixby took up sentinel on his other side to prevent the fellow from moving away with his burden. “Poor little mite,” he murmured, giving Katherine the elbow. “She needs a strong shoulder to lean on.”

“Completely understandable,” the captain assured them as Sir Richard waved Katherine past behind his back. She did not wait to hear more but slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

She was in a small antechamber. A neat walnut desk and chair stood squarely in her path, but no one sat at it. She could not know whether the captain was its usual occupant or whether its owner was behind the only other door in the room. She tiptoed across the thick blue carpet and leaned her ear against the panel. She could hear nothing from inside. That was not surprising, she supposed. When one led a spy ring, one probably invested in sturdier doors to prevent eavesdropping. She should really look into such doors for their town house.

So, what to do? She was afraid to knock. What if the occupants refused to answer? Worse, what if there was another guard who turned her away? If she wanted to know what was happening, there was only one thing for it. Squaring her shoulders, she pressed down on the handle and opened the door.

And was just in time to hear Alex announce, “I cannot tell you where I was at the Willstencraft ball, my lord, and that is my final word on the subject.”

“But not mine,” Katherine declared.

The older man behind the desk looked up, and Alex jumped to his feet at the sound of her voice. The only other occupant of the room, a slender gentleman at the back, started forward, but the older man held up his hand to stop him. Then he too rose to confront her.

“Do you have something to add to this conversation, young lady?” he asked politely

Alex moved to her side, face stern. “She does not. I am certain her interruption was a mistake, wasn’t it, madam?”

She met his deep blue gaze and thought she saw concern for her in it. Didn’t he know it was far more important for her to save him? She raised her head in determination, then peered around him. “I believe I may have something to say, sir. If I might stay?”

Alex shook his head, then turned to the older man. “My lord, I protest. This was to be a private meeting.”

“Then why is he allowed to be here?” Katherine replied, nodding toward the man at the back of the room.

The older man smiled. “Stand aside, Borin. Let the young lady speak her mind. She appears to be rather good at it.”

Ignoring Alex’s glare, Katherine scooted around him and spread her grey skirts in a curtsey. “Thank you, my lord. You would be Lord Hastings?”

He bowed. “Your servant, madam. As we are in the middle of a discussion, I shall not introduce my associate. But if I might know your name?”

“It is unimportant,” Alex started just as she replied, “Katherine Collins, my lord.”

Hastings smiled. “Ah, Sir Richard’s girl. You are most welcome, my dear. Won’t you sit down?”

Katherine perched on the chair. The unnamed gentleman, who she assumed must be an arch spy, dragged another chair from the wall and set it beside her, motioning for Alex to sit as well. Alex complied, face hooded. She was sorry to have to go against his wishes, but his life was at stake.

Lord Hastings seated himself behind the desk. “Well, Miss Collins, you have no doubt gone to a great deal of trouble to reach my office and involve yourself in our discussion. Would you care to explain why?”

Katherine nodded. “Certainly, my lord. I understand from my uncle that you believe Lord Borin capable of espionage.”

Hastings inclined his head. “That is the charge against him.”

“I am amazed you did not dismiss it out of hand,” she scolded. “His honor is unassailable.”

Hastings managed a polite smile. She thought the man behind him was biting his cheek to prevent laughter. She glared at him.

“We have already taken that into consideration, my dear,” Lord Hastings assured her. “I appreciate your passionate defense of the man you love, but I need facts.”

Could he tell so easily that she loved Alex? Was her love emblazoned on her face as it was on her heart? Well, so be it. The time for half-truths and trickery was past. She vowed to tell everything if that would save him. She could feel Alex watching her. She dared not look at him. Would she see censure in those eyes, or hope? Either might make her forget what she had come here to do. She took a deep breath.

“You were discussing the Willstencraft ball when I entered, I believe,” she told Lord Hastings. “I was there and watching Lord Borin much of the time. What do you wish to know?”