Page 10 of A Dangerous Pursuit (Regency Spies & Secrets 1)

Corbyn chuckled. “There have been a lot of changes since you have been gone.” He ushered Baldwin into the room. “We have much to discuss, Falcon.”

Baldwin noticed that the guards had lowered their weapons and were staring at him with a newfound respect in their eyes. A look that he had grown accustomed to over the years.

He brushed past them and headed into the office. His eyes scanned the sparsely decorated walls. “I see you haven’t made any changes to your office since I left for France,” he commented.

Corbyn huffed. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the time.”

“In three years?”

Corbyn appeared unconcerned. “It makes it much easier to move offices, if the need arises,” he remarked.

“That is a good point.”

Corbyn walked over to the drink cart in the corner. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yes.”

Angling his body towards him, Corbyn picked up the decanter and removed the stopper. “Pardon me for saying so, but you look terrible,” he said as he poured the drinks.

“That is understandable since I just stepped off the ship,” Baldwin shared.

Corbyn picked up the two glasses and walked one over to him. “I expected you days ago.”

“We ran into some unexpected trouble,” Baldwin responded. “It isn’t easy to cross the Channel undetected.”

“You got caught.”

“That we did.”

“By us or the French?”

Baldwin took a sip of his drink. “The HMS Victory,” he replied, “but Captain Hampton was being a real stickler, despite the war being over.”

“Did you not have the proper documentation to cross?”

“We did, but we weren’t able to produce it until after they shot a few cannons at us.”

Corbyn walked over to his desk and sat down. “Were you using a French schooner to cross?”

“We were,” he confirmed. “We paid a French merchant to take us.”

Corbyn lifted his brow. “Willingly?”

Baldwin smirked. “He was compensated enough, and we left him and his crew alive at the dock.”

“That was nice of you.”

“Wasn’t it?” Baldwin asked before taking the last sip of his drink. He walked over to the drink tray and set it down. “If the schooner leaves in the middle of the night, it should be able to cross back into French waters without an altercation.”

“I was worried that you wouldn’t receive my message,” Corbyn said, placing his drink on the desk.

“What message?”

“The one that ordered you home.”

Baldwin furrowed his brows. “I received no such message.”

“Then why did you come back to England?” Corbyn asked.

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