Page 17 of Wicked Rivals
Lennox? That was not good. Hugo wanted her and Lennox to remain at odds. If they were ever to form an alliance, half of his current schemes could easily unravel. The logistics of altering those plans with reliable substitutions would be bothersome to say the least.
He would need to find a way to entice Lady Melbourne back to London where he could keep a close eye on her.
“Hmm. Well, we can deal with that soon. Did the baron suffer any losses today?”
“He did. Two tenant houses burned down last night. It will keep him occupied and away from London.”
“Excellent.” That was just as he intended. He and Sheffield were arranging the transport of some agents to France, but Lennox had been keeping a close eye on Waverly’s actions of late. Too close. And Lennox and his men had a tendency to stumble into his missions and wreck them. It would be just like them to be responsible for a war because they refused to keep to themselves. So Sheffield had seen to a decent distraction to draw Lennox away from London for a time.
Sheffield cleared his throat. “One more matter to attend to,” he whispered, with a slight nod at the paper he’d tucked under the glass. “Urgent.”
Hugo slid his paper back toward his lip, deftly grasping the note Sheffield handed him. He noted the red wax seal—Scottish in design. The seal was one he recognized. Kincade. That conjured up some old memories.
Ten years ago he’d been a young man just entering the service of His Majesty. England had recently signed an act that united Scotland and England, but already there were separatist rumblings. Hugo’s job had been to suss out the leaders of the movement before it could gain popularity. And he had, a loose alliance of Scottish landowners who called themselves the Anti-Unionists.
Over the span of a year, all but one of its nine leaders had been dealt with in a series of accidents. Only one man remained, Montgomery Kincade—Rosalind Melbourne’s father.
The wily bastard had betrayed his compatriots for a hefty sum and to have his own life spared. It would have been prudent to take care of Kincade as well, but the man was cunning and had protected his interests well. He had warned Hugo that if he should die under accidental or suspicious circumstances, a collection of letters that Hugo had foolishly written would be exposed.
Such a thing would ruin Hugo. Beyond the damage to his reputation, the Scots would want him dead, and the Crown would disavow him to protect the tenuous relationship between itself and Scotland. They might go so far as to ensure he had an accident of his own.
He would not have made such a mistake now, but he’d been young then.
There were few things Hugo forgot, but this…this was one thing he wished he could. Ironically, it had been this very mission that had ensured his place among his peers and helped him to the position he was in today.
With a steadying breath, he broke the seal and read the letter. It was coded in the pattern of the old cipher he’d used ten years ago. It required a special device, one which Hugo had designed himself, to decode. He still carried it with him and occasionally used it for less important communications. He slipped it out of his pocket and set the symbols to match in the upper left corner of the letter, which then gave him the key to deciphering the rest of the message.
Sir Hugo,
It has been many years since we last spoke, but my memory is still sharp. I write to you from my deathbed. You cannot punish me any longer. That is up to the Lord now.
But do not think that you have won. I took money in exchange for silence when you murdered my fellow countrymen, and they call to me for revenge. I can ignore them no longer.
I still have every letter you wrote, with the code set out. Soon, the only person I trust will receive the device you once gave me, along with instructions to find where I’ve hidden the letters. They will expose you at last for what you are.
Soon your king and your country will know how many you murdered for the sake of your precious nation. A nation built on lies. A nation that kills its own people when they so much as suggest standing up for themselves.
I’m laughing at you, Waverly. Laughing from beyond the grave. I suspect I will be seeing you in hell soon enough.
Kincade
Hugo couldn’t breathe. The cipher device and the letters…the letters that could condemn him and ruin his life. And they were being sent to…whom?
Hugo scanned the letter again, searching for a clue.The only person I trust. He trusted no one, because he had been willing to betray anyone.
Except perhaps his family. If there was someone he trusted, it would have to be family. He thought back to what he knew of the man. Four children. Three sons and a daughter.
But it made no sense. Exposing those letters would destroy the Kincade name as well as his own. He wouldn’t trust his heirs to destroy their own futures.
Rosalind, however…
Her wealth and status were independent of the Kincade name. And from what he knew from their meetings, there had been no love between her and her father. Quite the opposite. For that very reason, the old bastard could assume she’d be more than willing to expose her father’s sins.
And she was en route to see one of his greatest enemies, presumably with the cipher in her possession. But not the letters. He still had time to find those before she did.
“Bloody hell,” he whispered.
“Anything to be concerned about?” Sheffield asked.
