Alice
CHAPTER 1
Alicepushedbackfromher desk in the cramped office she shared with two other junior clerks at the Foreign Office headquarters. Her back was sore from hunching over documents for over two hours, so she surreptitiously stretched as she smothered a yawn behind her hand. Sleep had eluded her last night, a common occurrence in the past fortnight, ever since Nathaniel had announced his intention to file for divorce.
She reached for the cup of coffee she had forgotten behind a stack of documents she still had to parse through. It must have gone cold by now, but it would help her stay alert. She took a sip and winced. The stuff had not been particularly good when hot. Now, it was barely drinkable.
The clock on the opposite wall ticked the seconds. She glanced at it, sighed, and returned to her task. Time would not move any faster for her wishing it.
The summons from Dalton arrived at a quarter before noon, folded neatly and bearing the seal of the Foreign Office,delivered by the messenger boy the duke employed to deliver unofficial papers.
Alice stared at it for a moment, her pulse accelerating. This could either mean an exciting break in her monotony or bad news. The last time the duke had summoned her, it had been to inform her that her partner, John, was being sent to Egypt to smooth diplomatic tensions after the Pasha of Suez had rather unfortunately expired on English soil.
Unfortunate politically, perhaps. Personally, Alice thought the pasha had it coming. The man had been the motive behind her last mission with John. They had been sent to bring back Lady Josephine, an English lady whom the Pasha had kidnapped and kept imprisoned in his harem for twelve years. One look at his face had told her what sort of creature he truly was—cruel, entitled, certain the world and everyone in it belonged to him. The negotiations to ransom Lady Josephine had been tense, despite the amount of money being paid for her release, and the backing of the English crown.
He had gotten off easy with the first crime, but then the man had had the gall to kidnap Josephine again. The details of exactly how he had died were being obscured, but Alice knew exactly how it had happened, and was glad for Josephine. The now Duchess of Aycliffe deserved her newfound happiness after all she had suffered.
No, she couldn’t be sorry for the pasha’s death. What rankled was the consequence: with John gone, she’d been relegated to transcription, analysis, and the sort of clerical tasks she could do blindfolded.
It was so unfair! It wasn’t just the work—dull and repetitive as it was—but the injustice of it. She was better than most of the male agents still getting plum assignments. Her skills were wasted here. She knew it. They knew it. But none of them wantedto work with her. Their male egos wouldn’t allow them to treat a female as an equal partner.
Her thoughts drifted unbidden to Nathaniel.
Once, they'd been a brilliant team, their partnership as effortless as breathing. They’d been flawless in the field, needing no words, merely glances, instincts, and the occasional hand gesture. With John, she felt safe, trusted and esteemed. But with Nathaniel, it had been something deeper. Elemental. As if their minds beat to the same rhythm.
She shook her head sharply. That chapter was closed. And judging by the unopened envelope in the top drawer of her desk at home, it was nearly buried for good. She hadn’t touched it since it had arrived from the Court for Divorce and Matrimonial Causes yesterday morning, its presence humming like a wasp on her desk. She couldn’t bear to open it. Whatever allegations Nathaniel had made to secure a divorce—well, she didn’t want to read them. Why continue to torture herself with the knowledge of how thoroughly he’d turned against her?
She may not know much about divorce proceedings, but even she knew they were only granted in cases of adultery. Didn’t he know she had never broken her vows? Not in body, not in heart. But clearly, his affections hadn’t run so deep.
It didn’t matter now. It hadn’t mattered for years. Standing, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and left the stuffy office behind, weaving through the crowded maze of converted Georgian townhouses that still served as Foreign Office headquarters—for now.
A new building was being erected on Whitehall, just around the corner. Since it was nearing completion, the Duke of Dalton, her superior and head of the Foreign Office division, moved his office there using his influence. She approached it with her usual brisk stride, boots clicking over the water-slicked cobblestones.
The scent of dust, paint, and fresh-cut timber greeted her as soon as she set foot inside. Here, her steps echoed off marble walls and high, arching ceilings. Tarpaulins half-covered intricate mosaic floors. She had to skirt around a crate of Corinthian capitals and duck beneath a length of scaffolding that groaned under the weight of two shouting workmen.
Alice could see why Dalton had insisted on moving here, even though they were still putting the finishing touches on the building. It was a world apart from the cramped, shadowy offices she’d just left behind. Light spilled through enormous windows, bathing the halls in gold. The place still smelled like a construction site—but a majestic one. Once it was finished, it would be a tremendous improvement for everyone in the office. She looked forward to that. If she had to pore over paperwork, she’d rather do it in this bright and modern building.
Dalton’s new office was tucked in a quieter corridor. Here, the clanking of construction tools and the shouting of workmen didn’t disturb the peace. It was a makeshift sanctuary behind a heavy door marked Private. She knocked twice, briskly.
“Enter,” came the immediate reply.
She stepped in and shut the door behind her, scanning her surroundings. The room was large, grand and intimidating, its walls covered in dark, masculine paneling. A fitting representation of its owner, for those adjectives could describe Dalton as well.
He stood from behind the massive desk at her entrance. Two chairs were placed in front of it for visitors, and a cabinet completed the furnishing of the space. Abundant light poured in from the big window, and the space was clean, and new. The air still smelled of varnished wood and materials.
She took one of the chairs before the desk, her back straight. “Dalton.”
She should properly address him as His Grace. The Duke of Dalton was not only her superior, but high above her station in society. In public, she addressed him as such. But when in private, the austere duke had insisted on dropping formalities. They had a camaraderie of sorts. One that came from long years working together and mutual respect.
As was his custom, Dalton didn’t bother with small talk. “I have a task for you, Alice.”
Her pulse leapt, but she schooled her features to stillness. “Fieldwork?”
His nod was curt. “There seems to have been a series of leaks. Sensitive information is making its way into the wrong hands, and I no longer know who I can trust. That’s why I’ve asked you here.”
She frowned. “And you trust me?”
“I do.” His eyes didn’t waver. “You see things others miss. I read people too. It’s my business to do so. And I know you’re honest.”
