The Husband Mission (The Spy Matchmaker #1)
Author: Regina Scott
Chapter One
Alexander Wescott, Viscount Borin, leaned back in the leather-bound armchair of the Marquis of Hastings' private office in Whitehall. He pulled out the pocket watch from his tastefully embroidered celestial blue waistcoat and flipped open the gold filigree case. But he did not consult the time. His gaze never left the man behind the desk.
Lord Hastings gave him no clue as to his thoughts. The marquis' deep brown eyes remained on the papers on the walnut, claw-foot desk before him, one hand stroking his walrus mustache. Alex felt the seconds ticking off. He heard young Captain Randolph, who stood guard behind the marquis, shift impatiently in his Oxford blue regimentals.
"An interesting account, Borin," Lord Hastings said at last. "I imagine it was rather entertaining to discover you were being followed."
The tone was characteristically chipper, but Alex wasn't fooled. Under the well-cut navy coat and dapper demeanor beat the heart of England's spymaster, a heart after his own, he hoped. He snapped shut his watch and replaced it without rumpling his dove grey morning coat.
"I'd rather hoped you'd find it interesting," he told Hastings, "given the rumors circulating about the ton."
Hastings raised a brow as iron grey as his short-cropped hair. "That nonsense about a French spy infiltrating Society?"
"Is it nonsense?" Alex pressed, planting his boots firmly in the thick blue carpet. "I have seen your men more in London than ever in the past. Rumor has it you suspect one of the Beau Monde of sharing secrets."
The captain's dark eyes lighted, but Hastings leaned back with a small smile on his mobile mouth. "What I suspect and what is real may be two different things, my boy. It is no secret I recruit my agents from among the aristocracy. It is also no secret that none of them would be easily induced to part with information. If there is a spy circulating at the London balls this Season, he is no doubt merely looking for a wealthy heiress to subsidize his activities."
Alex tried not to look disappointed. "But surely you need additional men to chase down these cursed rumors. I offered to join you last March. I repeat my request to be of service. The fact that I am being followed should prove to you that someone suspects I already belong to your staff."
Hastings met his gaze at last, and Alex nearly flinched at the sympathy in the man's eyes. "I said it was interesting that you are being followed, my boy. However, I would suspect it has more to do with your gambling or flirting than your attraction to espionage."
Alex surged to his feet, blood roaring in his hears. "Do you impugn my honor, sir? Give me the name of your second."
Randolph squared powerful shoulders and stepped forward even as Hastings sighed. "Oh, do sit down, Borin. It is entirely this sort of thing that makes you unsuited to my purposes."
As quickly as the temper had come, it left him. Alex sank back upon the chair and gave a nod. "I beg your pardon, sir. But you should know that this appointment means the world to me."
Hastings sighed again. "I understand. You are thoroughly bored with the entertainments of London, and you were never the type to rusticate in the country. But it does not follow that espionage will be your salvation."
Alex leaned forward, eager to make his case. "But I know I would be good at it. I am an excellent swordsman and a bruising fighter – ask Gentleman Jackson. No horse has been born that I cannot ride; no vehicle built I cannot drive. I speak, read, and write French, Italian, and Spanish. And I am a dab hand at acting."
The spymaster smiled. "Yes, I heard you hung about Drury Lane rather frequently, but I thought it had more to do with a certain beautiful opera dancer than improving your military skills."
Alex willed himself not to react, but the captain's grin was catching. He gave it up and grinned back.
"Very well," he allowed, "I admit it. But my dedication to my previous pursuits should prove to you my determination. Whatever I have set my hand to flourishes. Yet I am stagnating. I need a new challenge. Will you not accept my services?"
That irritating sympathy never left the older man's eyes. He pushed the papers away from him, and Alex's heart sank. "Forgive me, but I must decline. I have known you since you were in leading strings. You have a heart for adventure, Alex, but no stomach for hard work. Things have been too easy for you to have developed the trait of persistence, I suspect. Find a nice girl, settle down, and manage your estates. I could recommend a likely candidate or two."