Page 89 of Love Abandoned

Chapter Forty-Four

The earth is all before me. With a heart

Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty,

I look about; and should the chosen guide

Be nothing better than a wandering cloud,

I cannot miss my way.

—Wordsworth,The Prelude

“Thornwood, Stratton’s son,Laurence Baring,” Walford said before adding, “My brother-in-law,” as though he could not quite grasp that fact. “Bloody cold in here.” His voice was gruff as he turned abruptly, grabbed the candle, and walked to the fireplace before squatting in front of it.

“Good to finally meet you, my lord,” Laurence said, walking toward Richard, holding out his hand. “I understand I owe you a great debt.”

Richard was too weary to stand but gladly shook the man’s hand. “No debt at all,” Richard said, trying to process everything from the night and figure out how Walford’s brother-in-law fit into it all. “Do sit,” he said, motioning to the sofa across from him.

“I thought you were in the colonies?” Richard asked once Laurence was settled.

“You were meant to. Everyone was to believe that. It is far easier to hide in plain sight if you are thought to be half a world away.” Laurence glanced at Walford, who was taking far too long with the fire.

“You rubbing sticks together over there?” Richard teased, knowing full well Walford was composing himself and gathering his wits. It was not every day someone you believed lost appeared in the flesh.

“Horse’s ass,” Walford grumbled. He stood and rolled his shoulders before turning to the room, the fire highlighting him from behind.

Richard smiled. His friend had clearly finished processing. Walford sat beside Laurence and patted the man’s back again.

“It’s happy I am to see you, but I do have some questions,” Walford said, his face clearer in the growing light from the fire. Richard could see the play of emotions on Walford’s face. He remembered that overwrought look well from last summer when he and Walford had been bonded in another effort to catch a culprit. A culprit who’d held Laurence’s future in his hands.

“I knew you would,” Laurence said good-naturedly. “I need a drink though. I suspect you two could as well.” He walked into the shadows, and Richard heard the clink of glasses. “Sophia keeps a fine cognac in stock.”

Walford raised his eyebrow at Richard. It did seem odd Laurence knew that, but again, there was nothing normal about anything that had happened these past few months, never mind tonight. Laurence returned, and Richard took a cognac from him. When he was seated once again, Laurence raised his glass. “To a successful ending.”

“Hear, hear, I’ll drink to that,” Richard said and let the mellow liquid warm his throat.

Walford watched Laurence throw back his cognac, but he didn’t have any himself. He sat forward on the settee, his hands cradling the glass between his knees, not taking his eyes off Laurence. “My questions?”

Richard would have laughed were he not so tired. The old impatient Walford, whom Richard knew so well, had finally surfaced.

“I will answer as best I can.” Laurence set his glass on the side table and held up his hand as Walford was about to speak. “Let me start at the beginning. Tonight was long in the making. Lord Sidmouth.” He paused. “The home secretary…”

Laurence addressed his explanation to Richard as though he needed it. Did the man think he lived under a rock? He spent his days in parliament. He could list the entire bloody roster of lords along with their roles. But Richard was too tired to roll his eyes or make a sarcastic quip, so he merely nodded.

Laurence returned his attention to Walford. “Lord Sidmouth knew there was a traitor in the Home Office. I was put on the case months before you came into town, but had made little headway. Then they received the letter from Miss Paisley and the Home Office was in turmoil. Only one of their own could have replicated that letter from Wellesley. I had my own suspicions about Miller, but I could find nothing on him. Until he arranged this little exchange.”

“I’m not following the logic here,” Richard said. “If you knew he had arranged it, why not take him in? Why put us through this bloody night?” Richard knew he’d agreed to participate in the transfer of information, but it was beyond the pale if they could have prevented this little caper and did not.

“A fair question,” Walford said quietly.

“It is. Miller wasn’t our main target tonight. We wanted the informant. But I digress. If I can ask for your patience, I’ll return to that.” Laurence picked up his glass and took a sip.

“Go on,” Richard said, and Walford grunted in agreement.

“Miller did not inform the Home Office of this kidnapping. That was when we knew we had him. Lord Sidmouth suspects there’s another traitor somewhere in either the Home or Foreign Office working with Miller, so he decided against using his own men to apprehend him. There were no men from the Home Office here tonight.”

“You’re not with Home Office?”

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