Winters emerged from his memories, he again faced Jack. “The fact that you are back in England is serendipitous. The thing is, I find I need someone well placed in society for a surveillance job.”
“Who would I be watching?” Jack asked. He knew Winters never started a conversation casually. What would this job entail? He’d hoped to spend some time with his family without getting pulled into a new mission.
“There is a Frenchman, acomtewho fled the Terror. Here in London, he is widely accepted in society despite being French. I have been keeping an eye on him. I believe he is a spy, and he is funneling sensitive information back to the continent. Two of my operatives have recently been identified by the French government. They barely escaped into Italy with their lives. This also may have been how they knew Norton’s identity.
“I need to know how Moreau is getting classified information. Who is the traitor amongst us?” Winters shoved a restless hand through his hair. “Your mother is hosting a house party at Stoneleigh in a couple of weeks, correct? Can you have him invited? Then you could observe him, see with whom he is friendly…”
“But who’s to say his informant will be there as well?” Jack said.
“I have a short list of men who would have access to the names of agents for the crown. If I give it to you, can you arrange for them to be invited? No one would turn down an invitation from your mother. Stoneleigh is the perfect place to observe them without appearing to. And no one knows you work for the crown except the King and me.”
Discovering the identity of the traitor tugged at Jack’s sense of duty. Agents’ lives were at risk until they could find the leak. “Just observation? I wouldn’t be needed to apprehend anyone in the middle of my mother’s house party?”
“No, just help me narrow down the suspects, and I will take care of the traitor myself,” Winters’ mouth set into a grim line.
“All right, I’ll do it,” he said. “But I can’t call attention to myself as an agent. I won’t put my family at risk.”
“Not a problem. You are fantastic at what you do. I don’t imagine anyone will suspect you to be anything but what you appear—a second son returned home.” Winters gave a rare grin.
“I would also appreciate it if you would keep me apprised of any new information that may come up about either Jamieson or Dubois.” Jack got up to leave. Winters reached out and shook his hand.
“Yes, I will pass on any information if I hear anything. Good luck, Jack.”
****
At Dunmore House, Vivian sat at the breakfast table, staring into her cup of tea and trying to wake up. As usual, Aunt Grace sorted through the morning post.
“Well, I must say, Vivian, your mail used to be a lot more interesting when you were receiving letters from your sea captain.”
“Aunt Grace, Captain Aston is here in London now. Why would he send me letters any longer?”
“He is?”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Grace! We talked about this last week. He is Lord Gilchrest’s younger brother. Remember?” Aunt Evelyn said.
“Oh, yes, of course. Silly me. So much more suitable now that we know he is the brother of a duke.”
“Umph…hardly suitable when he makes a living in commerce. A disgrace to his family name if you ask me.” Aunt Evelyn sniffed, nose in the air.
Vivian shook her head at the irony of Jack’s suitability. Ever the romantic, Aunt Grace rather liked him better when she thought him just the dashing sea captain. For Vivian, Jack’s two different identities made him even more of a puzzle. The man at the helm of his ship, barking orders at his crew, wind whipping at his hair. This man she understood. She would never have pegged him for a blue blood.
In contrast, the Captain always appeared vaguely uncomfortable at the society events at which she had seen him. It was sweet to see him make an effort to support his sister even though he would rather be elsewhere. The question is, which man did he want to be? Which man was the real Jack?
Last night had been a revelation for her. Clearly, the captain had been holding back his feelings. In his arms, she discovered her ability to crack his reserved façade. This knowledge gave her an exhilarating sense of power…His kisses ignited that wild part of her which she spent the last year hiding, in her effort to become a perfectly behaved lady. If they had been caught, she would have been ruined in the eyes of society, but it had been worth the risk.
Old Tom came into the room carrying a large vase filled with a delicate mix of hibiscus and white jasmine.
“Flowers for Miss Vivian.”
“Ooh, how lovely.” Gabrielle said.
“Who are they from, Vivian?” Aunt Evelyn asked.
She took out the card and opened it.
Dear Vivi, These flowers reminded me of you. Yours, Jack
“They are from Captain Aston.” Vivian leaned in to bury her nose in their sweet scent.
