“On my way to the house, I saw you standing at Luci’s grave,” his friend said softly. “How many times must I tell you that her death wasn’t your fault?”
The memories created by Noah’s words gave Griffin a painful jab of sensation which he quickly shoved aside. Noah had been the first person to visit him after Luci’s death. He’d tried desperately to convince Griffin that all would be well in time. His friend obviously still wanted him to believe that.
Griffin didn’t.
He cleared his throat. “Why are you here?”
“Always so direct, my friend,” Noah mused. “Exactly why you wouldn’t make a good spy.”
Relief washed over Griffin. For whatever reason, Noah had seen fit to give him a reprieve and didn’t appear to be starting a long, drawn-out discussion about Griffin’s dead wife. He rose to mix them both a drink in celebration.
“I never wanted to be a spy. That’s the life you chose, my friend.”
“Haven’t you ever been the least bit interested in it, though?” Noah took the drink he offered with a nod of thanks.
Griffin sat back down and swirled the scotch he had poured for himself. Somewhere in the darkest recesses of his sensible heart, he supposed he had wondered about the secret, dangerous life his best friend lived.
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m not here for personal reasons,” Noah admitted.
“Are you arresting me?” Griffin leaned back in his chair.
“No.” Noah laughed easily and Griffin envied him the ability. “But I do require your help in a case I’m working on.”
“I hate to be the one to tell you, but the war is over and Napoleon is locked away in Corsica.” Griffin set his drink on the desktop and laced his fingers together as he leaned forward. “What’s this really all about?”
His friend gave him a slightly superior smile. “The war may be over, but that doesn’t necessarily mean all is well. I’m about to tell you something that isn’t public knowledge, and I must ask you to keep it a secret.”
Wrinkling his brow, Griffin looked closely at his good friend. Over the years he’d become aware of Noah’s job in the War Department, of his dangerous work on the Continent, but he had never been privy to any specific details. He’d never even thought to ask about them.
“You know you can trust me,” he said. “After all, I’ve never breathed a word about your occupation to anyone.”
Noah nodded. “I do know that. It’s why I’m here. Do you remember late last month when Louis XVII came in to Town to celebrate the routing of Napoleon and his return to power?”
Blinking, Griffin tried to recall. He hadn’t exactly been keeping up with the news lately. His breakfast copy of the Morning Chronicle sat untouched as often as it was read.
“I remember something about it.”
Noah took a deep breath. “Few people know this, but someone tried to kill the Prince Regent and Louis that day.”
Both Griffin’s eyebrow’s shot up in shock. “My God, I should keep up on the news more!”
His friend gave a slight smile. “The attempt wasn’t in the news. Our local agents diverted the attack, though we did lose one of our best men as a result. It has become very clear to my superiors and to the field agents that there is a serious plot afoot to assassinate the Prince.”
“How do you know this attack wasn’t just some unstable person who doesn’t like His Highness? Hell, half the country hates the man. By that theory, we’d all be suspects.”
Noah smiled. “I knew I could depend on you to ask the proper questions. The way the assassination plot was carried out was far too exacting for it to have been the random attack of a madman. We think we know who’s behind it…”
“Then arrest him, problem solved,” Griffin interrupted.
Noah ran a hand through his dark hair and Griffin saw a rare flash of frustration on his friend’s face. “I wish it were that easy. First, we don’t have enough evidence to be absolutely confident. Secondly, this man is not acting alone. Arresting him won’t ease the danger, only slow the plans of his group for a time. We need to find out more information before we move in to eliminate their entire crew.”
It was obvious Noah was building up to something. Griffin nudged him along with little subtlety. “This is all very interesting, my friend. But what does any of it have to do with me?”
Noah’s face twisted with what looked like dread. “Our target is the man whose London home is adjacent to yours.”
As shock rippled through him, Griffin thought of his two immediate neighbors. One was an elderly couple whose children were all married off and spread about the countryside. The other was…
“You aren’t telling me Douglas Ellison…” he burst out, his eyes widening.
“Is probably a traitor, and definitely a killer,” Noah confirmed with a sharp nod.
Griffin tried to remember an image to go along with his neighbor’s name. Ellison was what Griffin’s mother called nouveau riche, a man who had come into a large amount of money without the benefit of a title. He kept to himself, though Griffin had always thought him rather dandified when he chose to think of him at all.
“It’s hard to believe. Nearly impossible.”
“I’m sure it is,” Noah chuckled. “Most people don’t suspect their neighbor to be an assassin. He wouldn’t be a very good one if they did, would he?”
Griffin lifted his eyes to look at his friend in amazement. Noah was talking about murder and political intrigue with the same tone he would use to discuss a squash game!
“I’m still not certain why you need me.”
Noah’s seriousness returned. “With the Prince declaring a summer Jubilee and all the Royalty from the continent and military leaders coming to town, the War Department feels Ellison and his group will have the perfect opportunity to strike again and do a great deal of damage. We’re trying to prevent that attempt while gathering enough intelligence to arrest Ellison and his men.”
“And I come in…?” Griffin asked impatiently.
“I’m getting to that.” Noah said with a purse of his lips. “We’ve begun to infiltrate Ellison’s organization with a female agent. She offers Ellison a few opportunities if he marries her… respectability, money, etcetera… and he’s been courting her for a little more than a month. We need to go to London to allow this woman to be close to Ellison, all the while keeping her safe.”
“And since I live next door to the man…” Griffin began with a groan as his friend’s rationale became clear to him.
“I wondered if we might stay in your home, with you as our host,” Noah finished.
“Why don’t you stay in your own home?” Griffin asked. “Won’t that seem a bit suspicious?”
“I started renovating my London estate the moment I was told of this plan. My father is furious, but it isn’t as if the antiquated place didn’t need it.” Noah stood. “Griffin, I know this is asking much of you, especially so soon after Lucinda’s death. But I need your help.”
Damn his friend for knowing exactly what to say. Griffin rubbed his hand over his chin.
“How exactly will this plan work? If a woman stays with you and me, unattended in my home, her reputation will be ruined, and there goes Ellison’s respectability. Why wouldn’t he lose interest in her?”
“Her respectability won’t be in jeopardy.”
Griffin interrupted him with a snort. “How could a woman’s reputation not by sullied by spending unescorted nights with a widower and the biggest rake in all of London?”
Noah’s grin widened to an unbelievable length before he chuckled, “I think you need to meet my agent before you ask that question.”