She shouldn’t have allowed him to use her given name. She’d set him straight in the morning.
“WILLOUGHBY GALLOWAY, so it is.” Callahan Kelly opened the door to the flat Baron had secured for Cal and his wife while they were in London assisting Will. It was not a large flat, but Will had a room here too, in the event he needed to attend to matters that could not be observed by the royal staff.
“Bridget is already in bed,” Cal said, moving aside so Will could enter. Will noted that Cal looked annoyed he was not in bed with her.
“I need to write a missive to Baron. Can you send it tomorrow?”
“First thing. Bridget will have me head if I don’t offer you tea.”
Will shook his head. “I just need to write the letter then I’ll be out of your way.” He went to the room with the small cot he had only slept on a handful of times and sat at the desk. Opening a drawer, he pulled out the code Mrs. Kelly had devised, found a blank sheet of paper, and scrawled his message. Then he took another paper and began to code it.
“Here you are.” Cal set the tea on the edge of the desk then sat on the cot. “What’s happened besides the police letting the assassin jump from a window?”
Will looked up. “You heard about that.”
“I have me connections. What was the mood at the palace after the news? Sure and it was not a lively one.”
“The queen retired early with the prince. She went white as a ghost when Palmerston informed her the assassin had been part of a group of Irish separatists.”
“She didn’t know.”
Will studied the code and added a few more lines. “It wasn’t confirmed. She doesn’t understand why the Irish hate her.”
Cal let out a derisive snort. “And why shouldn’t we hate the English when they treat us little better than the dirt on their shoes? And the queen? What has she ever done for us? Thousands are dying, their children starving, and she goes on as though nothing has changed.”
Will looked up. “And yet here you are, defending Queen and Country.”
Cal shrugged. “Not all of us believe violence is the answer. And what kind of an Irishman would I be if I let a few radicals speak for all of us? It’s my country too, and I want peace as much as any man.”
Will finished the letter, sealed it, and handed it to Cal. “You’re a good man.”
Cal narrowed his eyes. “You sound as though you doubt you are one as well.”
“I don’t like this part I’m playing. I don’t like lying to Emily.”
Cal’s brows shot up. “Emily?”
“Lady Averley.”
“Oh, and sure but she’s Emily now.”
Something on Will’s face must have revealed his emotions because Cal’s teasing smile faded. “You have to make her trust you. It’s the only way to find out if she’s involved in this plot.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it. I almost kissed her tonight.”
Cal leaned back on the cot. “I see. You knew that might be part of it. You must get close to her, convince her to see you as an ally.”
“I know. I agreed to that and didn’t think twice about it. But that was before I met her.”
“Ah, things have changed, so they have.”
Will ran a hand through his hair. “She’s not what I expected. You saw her at the museum.”
“Hard not to see her. She’s striking.”
“She’s more than beautiful. She’s curious and intelligent. She’s kind and cares for others. I can’t see her involved in the assassination plot.”
“And are you ready to tell Baron the same?”