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  Jack sighed, “I didn’t find the scrolls. But I thought if they believed I did, it might draw Thaddeus Grey or another one of the group members out again. Unfortunately, it has only shown we still have a spy within the agency.”

  Tristan raised an eyebrow, “Really? The office believes Rodney is the one responsible for the loss of information from the scrolls as well as several lives, but I sense you no longer share that view.”

  “No, I believe he was set up, just like I was last year. Only limited people would have had access to that message I sent this time. I suspected someone at the Home Office, not a field agent, was the traitor.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “Yes, but I’m not ready to disclose that, even to you, Tristan. Too many lives have already been lost or placed in danger. We don’t need them to put more people in the field if they become aware others have the information I do.”

  “Speaking of that, it appears someone else was already dispatched to the field. I believe she was sent to disrupt my mission more than she was to find you. But I’ve taken care of her.”

  Now it was Jack’s turn to raise an eyebrow, “Her?”

  "Yes, but I’ve got it completely under control, she’s no longer a factor.”

  “So you think someone was sent to either intercept you, or help them find me?”

  “Frankly, I’m not sure who sent her. But she has a unique set of skills.”

  Jack shook his head at Tristan’s muttered last comment. “This ought to be interesting. Let’s hear it.”

  Now that he was here with Jack, the idea that Morgan was his sister was even more preposterous. Despite his lack of participation in ton affairs and the House of Lords, when Jack was in public he was everything one expected from an Earl. His behavior and manners were impeccable. The idea that he would have a sister who dueled, argued, and rode as good as any man was completely unfathomable. Not to mention the fact that no lady with any breeding would go tearing out after Jack with a complete stranger. Before Tristan could even begin to recount the last couple of days, they were interrupted by a local boy who held out a note to Jack.

  Jack sent him on his way with a farthing and read the note. “What do you make of this?”

  Tristan scanned the handwritten note.

  You might be interested in a trade. I’m sure she is.

  Come to the ruins at Wenrick and bring the items in your possession if you want to keep her alive.

  Tristan frowned at the note and handed it back. “Aren’t those ruins part of your estate?”

  Jack looked at the note again “Yes, they obviously think I have the scrolls, but I have no idea who they are trading.”

  Tristan felt the first trickle of unease.

  “Why would they even attempt this? I’m sure they are aware of the policies. We don’t meet demands. If this didn’t reference my estate, I would believe this was delivered to the wrong person.”

  Tristan was only half listening as he continued to evaluate the possibilities.

  “Tristan! Did you hear me? Could this have something to do with your mysterious female agent? Whoever she is she must be quite memorable to have you this distracted.” Despite the gravity of the situation, Jack ended with a cheeky grin.

  Tristan’s mouth turned down, “You might say that.”

  EIGHTEEN

  They approached the ruins through the woods instead of the main road. The original keep was Edwardian, but the wooden floors rotted away long ago, leaving a hollow tower at one end. Later generations added on in various architectural styles. It was once a magnificent manor house, but a fire resulted in the current manor house being built in another location, more accessible to the main road. Time and nature also took a toll, but there were still sections that seemed to have some protection from the elements.

  They stopped in the last grove of trees.

  “Let me go in,” Tristan said. “They must have followed me here, otherwise they would have already made contact with you. This way, they may think I’m still looking for you too.”

  Jack nodded his agreement and secured the horses. As Tristan moved toward the castle, motion in an upper window caught his eye. The front doors were gone, so he moved quietly into the entrance hall. The grand staircase was intact, but crumbling, and Tristan took care to stay close to the wall as he ascended. Just as he reached the landing, the shadowy figure of a man stepped out into the hallway.

  “Well, it looks like you came without anything important. Aren’t you missing someone? We will have to reconsider our trade.” He disappeared back into a room. Tristan proceeded cautiously down the hallway, every sense on high alert. He reached the room just in time to see the man settle himself into a large wing chair on the far side. Tristan paused. That was an odd choice of position, he saw no other exits. The chair was new and covered in a rich burgundy brocade, completely out of place. It must have been brought solely for this stranger’s use.

  “I’m disappointed; I thought we could make this fairly straightforward. I’m also not sure you have any real value or anything to offer, but I’m willing to be fair and at least listen. It also might prove amusing for me.”

  Tristan took in the rest of the room. In one corner, Tristan was startled to see Morgan tied to chair. Although she was gagged, the glare from her eyes spoke volumes. He was careful to not let any reaction show. Tristan shrugged and tried for nonchalance, “She’s not mine, so I’m not missing her. But I assume you were.” Tristan continued “I commend you on her talents. I enjoyed the company and the diversion. I can’t really condone the use of female operatives, but I guess desperate men do desperate things. You might as well untie her and end this part of the charade.”

  Montrose looked momentarily confused.

  Tristan glanced toward Morgan as she gave a muffled squeak. Her expression changed from outrage to shock, and he again felt something that was uncomfortably akin to doubt. That feeling only intensified at Montrose’s sudden bark of laughter.

  “Oh that’s rich!” Montrose seemed genuinely amused.

  Tristan glanced toward Morgan again, and his unease increased with the tears in her eyes.

  Morgan tried to control her breathing, it was difficult enough with the gag, crying would only make it worse. But she couldn’t stop the chastising voice in her head. How could I have been so stupid? Of course no man would accept her for who she was. Tristan thought she was a spy and he’d used her for his own purposes. Everything he had done, everything they shared, had been a lie. She had been completely herself with him. Now her heart was breaking. He had been the one being deceitful. He was never trying to help her or her brother. What have I done?

  Montrose sat further back in the chair, his right hand resting on the head of his cane. “Might I suggest you get your partner? If you aren’t interested in her, I’m quite sure he will be.”

  Morgan’s eyes shifted toward the opening and widened when her brother walked in. She was overwhelmed with relief and felt the tears start anew, which was most annoying and inconvenient.

  In her disheveled state, with her face half hidden by the gag and her hair, Jack’s cursory glance was dismissive.

  “I’m not. But I know some people who will be very interested in making your acquaintance Montrose.” Jack kept his focus on Montrose, but noted Tristan’s face was a little pale. This put him more on edge than anything.

  Most people, faced with either Jack or Tristan, would have second thoughts at challenging them. Together, they were formidable. But Montrose relaxed further back in the chair. With a smug smile and the barest nod toward the corner behind Morgan, a shadow detached itself from the wall. The figure moved forward, and both Jack and Tristan tensed, anticipating a confrontation. When Derek stepped into the light Jack could not keep his face from registering the shock. Derek would not meet his gaze. When his cousin’s eyes shifted toward the girl and quickly looked away, Jack took another look at the girl. His blood ran cold when he finally realized who the bound and gagged figure was.

>   Tristan sensed the heightened tension, and had a sick feeling he knew why, but it was confirmed when Montrose drawled, “Isn’t this a charming family reunion?”

  Jack could barely contain his fury as he turned on Montrose. “What the bloody hell is she doing here?”

  Raising his shoulder in a nonchalant shrug he nodded toward Tristan. “You’ll have to ask her, ah, escort. This certainly wasn’t my plan. Although I will say she came in very handy.”

  Jack whirled on Tristan. “What is my sister doing here?”

  Tristan took an involuntary step back in response to the heated glare from his friend. He paused, trying to make sense of the unfolding situation. One of them had to regain the upper hand without endangering Morgan.

  Montrose continued to smile benignly as if he were attending a lecture at a garden party. He addressed Morgan. “We could have arranged this in so many ways my dear. It could have been much different for you.” Montrose paused to give Morgan a pitying look and shake his head. “Had you been more biddable, everyone would already have what they wanted. Unfortunately, the ton will come to realize that despite all appearances, you were apparently having an affair. Really no surprise, given the lax supervision in your brother’s household. The scandal will be even greater that it was with a ruffian of a highlander. Your brother understandably tracked you both down. The duel sadly left them both—dead.”

  Montrose nodded toward Derek. “I’m sure the new Earl will be thrilled to have you taken off his hands, and you,” he glanced at Morgan, “will still serve me, although not as my wife. I don’t want damaged goods, and can’t afford to have my family name sullied by your family’s scandalous behavior.” He frowned as if a thought just occurred to him. “I will however, still insist upon her dowry Derek, as this really is more of a favor to you.”

  Jack did not miss the way Morgan flushed over the allusion to her intimacy with Tristan. Neither did he miss the way Tristan moved protectively toward Morgan; or the murderous rage in Tristan’s eyes as Montrose continued to speak.

  “When we get out of here, you know I’ll have to kill you.” Jack said conversationally.

  Tristan’s mouth settled into a grim line. He didn’t need to look at Jack to know he was speaking to him, not Montrose. Tristan couldn’t take his eyes of Morgan.

  Montrose continued. “However, Jack, I am a fair man, and I’m open to hear other solutions you would care to offer. Say, if you have something to trade? I have something you want, you have something I want. I might consider that option. How much is she worth to you? Obviously your friend found her useful.”

  Jack barely ground out, “What do you want?”

  “Ha! You know what I want Jack. Let’s not play games. You have the scrolls.”

  “No, I do not. I sent a false communication.”

  “Now, why would I believe something like that?”

  Before Jack could reply, Derek stepped forward. “This wasn’t the deal! You can’t trade anything! What about me? I’ve done everything you asked! Just kill them and let’s get on with it.”

  The change in Montrose was remarkable. His eyes blazing, his face turning a mottled red, he leapt out of his seat. “Silence you fool! You think you were important in all of this? You are nothing. I am seeking the knowledge of the ages. With those scrolls I will have the power and the wealth to rule kingdoms!” He turned back to Jack “Where are they? I will have them or your sister’s life now!”

  To everyone’s surprise Derek took a gun from the folds of his coat. “You all take me for a simple fool. Give him what he wants Jack. You and your friend are going to die either way, but I could make other arrangements for Morgan.”

  Tristan never took his eyes off Morgan. Her head remained bowed, almost as if she fainted. But he could tell there was a tenseness in her body that belied that state. He was ready when she made her move.

  Morgan hoped Jack would keep them talking just a little longer. She was close to working her hands free of the bonds. Jack taught her when he she was younger. It was initially a clever way to keep her occupied and out of his hair, but Morgan was a quick learner. Morgan noted that Derek moved forward and was almost blocking her from Montrose’s view. She used the veil of her hair to surreptitiously evaluate everyone’s positions. She hoped Tristan would be ready.

  “Sit down you fool!” Montrose shouted at Derek. “You have no idea what’s at stake!” He also pulled a gun, now trained on Morgan.

  Tristan knew the situation was escalating rapidly. It was clear Derek was desperate, and that Montrose was both desperate and unstable. It was entirely his fault Morgan was here. He would not allow further harm to come to her. It’s now or never Tristan thought. His move took both men by surprise. With no real training, they both reacted as Tristan anticipated. Firing their guns almost simultaneously, Derek’s shot was panicked and went wild. Tristan felt the bullet hit high on his shoulder, shattering the collar bone and stopping his forward momentum. Ultimately, that bullet saved him. Montrose’s bullet would certainly have killed him, but the angle was altered enough that vital organs were missed.

  Jack, thinking Derek meant to shoot Morgan, threw his knife. Derek was now clutching the hilt to his chest as he sank to his knees with a look of shock. Tristan was down and obviously injured. Jack saw Morgan move toward him, quickly assuring himself she was not hit. He turned to take care of Montrose, but the man was already disappearing around a corner. With a muttered curse Jack started after him, but did not get far.

  “Jack! Help him! You can’t let him die!” Morgan’s voice was heart-wrenching.

  Jack turned toward his sister. Tears were streaming down her face and her hands were covered with Tristan’s blood as she tried to stem the flow from his wounds. There really was no other decision.

  Tristan was vaguely aware of his friend and Morgan. He felt light-headed, and his vision was tunneling. There was something important he had to say, but was having a hard time focusing on Morgan’s face. Jack came into his line of vision, and he said the only thing he could think of, “This saving you business is really getting old.” Tristan passed into blackness.

  NINETEEN

  Jack passed a weary hand over his face as he left the meeting. He thought he might see Tristan, and wasn’t sure how he would react. But Jack learned Tristan already gave his report and was gone. It was just as well. Explaining how Jack’s own family was involved had not been pleasant, especially with having to disclose his false communiqué.

  Jack still wasn’t sure if he made the right decision. Tristan offered for Morgan, but Jack refused. He was angry at the risk Tristan placed her in, even though it was Morgan’s own foolishness that started it. But Jack also did not want her married to someone that shared his profession. It was too dangerous. He felt guilty for not providing better protection, or being around more to see how Derek changed. He couldn’t even keep his own house in order. Perhaps it was time for him to consider permanently taking his seat in the House of Lords.

  Jack continued to evaluate his options as the coach made its way through the London streets. On impulse, he signaled the driver to take him to his club instead of home. He wasn’t ready to see Morgan yet.

  Morgan cursed for the umpteenth time as another speck of blood came through the linen. No matter how hard she tried, she was just never going to be proficient at embroidery. She heard the parlor door click open and tried to summon a smile. She knew Jack was worried about her, but she didn’t realize how much the staff worried until she overheard the cook and Paul conspiring to arrange her favorite dishes to cheer her up.

  “Here you are my lady. Cook made suet pudding with brandy sauce. She wanted you to have it while it was warm.”

  Morgan smiled her thanks, and tried to display some enthusiasm for what was her favorite dessert. But Morgan didn’t feel like there was much to be happy about. She blamed herself for the current problems. Jack was at the Home Office now; it was likely his services would no longer be desired due to Morgan’s involvement. She f
elt awful. Had she worked harder at being a proper lady, she would have been wed long ago, and not a burden to Jack. Derek may have lied about many things, but that was not one of them; although she still failed to see the correlation between embroidery and being a satisfactory wife. She sighed and stood up. Should I even be thinking about a marriage? Jack could offer an even bigger dowry, no one knew she was no longer chaste. But Morgan wouldn’t deceive a future husband, and that left the possibility of even more scandal should a suit be dropped once a gentleman was informed. If she were really being honest, she could not see herself with anyone. Tristan still filled her dreams. Morgan stared, unseeing out the window. She hoped, for awhile, that he would come for her. As the weeks passed, she resigned herself to the fact that he would not. Apparently, she had been just an unfortunate obstacle for him as well. Morgan made a decision and turned from the window. She would retire to the country. It would be lonely, but at least she would be out of Jack’s way. That really was the most proper decision. She would inform Jack of her plans when he got home.

  *****

  Jack stopped in the process of raising his glass of whiskey at Tristan’s voice.

  “Just hear me out. You have every right to despise me. I realize you are angry that Morgan was in so much danger because of me. You have no idea how sorry I am for that. And if I’m so cynical that I couldn’t recognize she was your sister, then I figured it is probably time for me to find another occupation.”

  Jack didn’t say a word, and Tristan couldn’t read his expression, so he plowed ahead.

  “But I won’t say I regret being with her. I love her, Jack, and now she thinks I used her when I thought she was a spy. At least let me tell her my true feelings. I gave my resignation today at the Home Office. I never want anyone I care about in danger again.”

  Jack finally spoke. “I’m not the one you have to convince Tristan. I made mistakes too. I was angry. She’s the only family I have, and I guess I felt I also had a part in placing her in danger, so I wanted to protect her. But I was too late and this was not a decision I should have made for her.” Jack stood and held out his hand. “You are a good man—and a better friend. I also resigned today.”