He nodded and walked ahead, a sign of trust.
She kept her eyes scanning the estate till they were winding their way down toward Mayfair.
“I knew you had to be Jaxsen, and I have to admit it’s an honor to meet you,” Jacques said with a slight accent as they moved from shadow to shadow, avoiding the streetlamps.
“Oh?” Jaxsen asked, keeping her tone indifferent, her suspicions still on high alert.
“There was a ship carrying cargo to the troops stationed in the channel. My brother was on that ship.”
Jaxsen frowned, her mind flooding with memories. “I was on that ship too.”
“Yes, you were. And when they were under attack, my brother was hit with the wooden splinters from the cannon fire. You stayed with him. Of course, he didn’t know you were a woman till later.”
Jaxsen shook her head in wonder. “He was very brave.”
“He lived because you cared for his wounds like a brother in arms.”
“He was -- is. I would have done the same for any soldier.”
Jacques nodded. “Which is why I came to work for the War Office, because I wanted to end wars not fight in them.”
Jaxsen nodded. “Which begs the question, since we’re about to start a new one, what are you doing to stop it?” she asked with an arched brow and a narrowed stare.
“That is a conversation best left for a safe place.”
“Then follow me,” Jaxsen replied, and strode ahead, giving her back to him, a sign of trust returned. “I know a place we can talk.”
Chapter Sixteen
What Emerson had expected was for Jaxsen to simply saunter into the room as if there hadn’t been a door and several locks between them at some point. What he had not expected was for her to have a person in tow.
His brows arched high as she waved her companion in.
“Emerson, allow me to introduce Jacques Flore. It seems we aren’t the only ones on the current case.”
“Ah, a pleasure.” Emerson nodded, regarding the man with some open speculation. He was short in stature and lean, not much older than a boy. His features were aged though, as if he’d seen too much with his brown eyes.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Emerson asked, not sure how much Jaxsen trusted or wanted to divulge in front of their guest.
As if reading his caution, she cast a glance to Jacques. “Why don’t you tell us what you know.”
In short work, Jacques confirmed what they had uncovered and learned, with a few added details.
Emerson glanced to Jaxsen, asking for her approval to divulge information.
She nodded and waved across the floor as if to motion for him to take it.
It was difficult not to simply kiss her to welcome her back, but it wasn’t the time and place. It was a sobering realization, and he forced his mind to cooperate. With sufficient detail, he outlined what he’d pieced together in her absence, leaving the only possible conclusions…
Daverson and Wessix were helping fund the revolutionists from France, which Volland was transporting with the help of the Madame Mersallie’s designs — presumably.
Napoleon was free, a coup about to take place, and their next target was English soil.
“Anyone else feel a little shocked at all this?” Jacques asked, his expression one of awe.
“You get used to it. Turns out man is constantly inventing ways to create problems,” Emerson replied with a sage tone.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
