Page 118 of Wicked Rivals
She smiled. So did he. She needed him as much as he needed her.
She curled up by him again on the bed, careful not to lie near his wounded shoulder. Their hands remained linked, and she drifted to sleep deeply for the first time in two days, finally knowing Ashton would be all right.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hugo stood in front of the large fireplace in his study at his townhouse on South Audley Street. Waiting. His blood was roaring in his ears, and his head felt light.
He promised himself it would be over soon. The evidence of his foolish beginnings, evidence that could damage the country, let alone threaten his own life, would be back in his hands and could safely be destroyed. The League of Rogues would not learn how deep his interests went and could not unravel his carefully constructed web of lies and secrets.
The study door opened, and his butler nodded at him.
“Sir Hugo, Mr. Sheffield has arrived.”
“Show him in. Is my wife still at home?”
“Yes, Sir Hugo. She was preparing to go out this evening. Should I tell her you wish to speak with her?”
“No. Send Sheffield in.”
“Very good, sir.”
Hugo turned back to the fireplace and only turned again once Daniel had entered. Daniel’s coat was covered in dust from the road, but his face was bright with triumph.
“Did you get them?” Hugo asked, his heart pounding again.
Daniel slid a hand under the folds of his coat and pulled out a packet of letters. He handed them to Hugo. The parchment was yellow with age and the ink was a little faded, but the words were legible…words that would have outed him as the English spy who had orchestrated the destruction of a Scottish separatist rebellion by the murder of their monarchist leaders.
“Any problems?” Hugo asked as he ruffled the letters’ edges in his hands.
Daniel hesitated before answering. “There was some loss of life in retrieving them, and two men were captured.”
“Should we be concerned?”
Daniel shook his head. “Hired locals only. They know nothing.”
“Good.” Hugo smiled coolly. The League would never know about the content of these letters. He caught Daniel eyeing them.
“Do you have any further need of me this evening?” Daniel asked.
Hugo didn’t bother to look at him. “No. You may go. Tomorrow we have plans to make.”
“Sir?” Daniel waited, tapping his riding gloves delicately against his thigh, the only hint of his impatience.
“Avery Russell has been making use of Sheridan’s youngest sister in his work here in London. I think it’s time we escalate that. What would you say to seducing Miss Sheridan and involving her in a mission to France? I would very much like to have her disappear there. It would distract watchful eyes from our true mission. You know the one I mean.”
“Yes, but…” Daniel’s face reddened.
Hugo chuckled. “You’re a genius spy, Daniel—don’t tell me a little seduction frightens you off.”
“It isn’t that. I am involved with another, and—”
“Don’t be naïve. Your loyalty is to the Crown. And in this room, I represent the Crown and its interests. We’ll talk more on this later. You may go.”
Daniel bowed curtly and exited the room. Hugo’s shoulders sagged as he held the stack of letters in his hands, weighing them.
His instinct was to burn them, but something gave him pause. After a moment’s hesitation, he counted them, unfolded each one and checked the dates. One letter toward the end was missing.
He crunched the old sheets of parchment in his hand. The letters had been in Lennox’s possession. If there was one man in the League who gave Hugo pause, it was him.
