Harlan looked at his companion steadily. “You are speaking of the highest form of treason.” He stilled. “Or perhaps an assassination?”
Benjamin’s silence was condemning enough. “With the growing unrest in Lower Canada regarding political unrest between Britain and French occupied territories, I fear it will strain the monarchy’s tenuous hold even further. Some claim that it would be easy for a spy to slip into the country by way of the French Provinces to aid in the resistance.”
Harlan uttered a profanity as he shoved a hand through his hair. “We cannot patrol every road in and out of England. We do not have that sort of time, nor man power at our disposal.” He began to pace. “I should like to see what happens if I were to walk into Parliament and demand that they sacrifice as much as we do in honor of this country. It is all well and good to demand results when they are in London having their brandy and cigars, but when we are faced with impossible developments such as this, chaos is inevitable.”
“They have the titles in which to secure themselves behind,” Benjamin pointed out. “We are not part of the elite, so we have to accept the brunt of the country’s retaliation regardless of whether or not they know of our efforts.”
Harlan gritted his teeth. So many times he considered walking away from the victories that he had always been honor bound to chase. His father was a decorated war hero who had fought valiantly and died in the Battle of Waterloo. Lord Wellington himself had paid a personal visit to Harlan and his mother to express his sincere condolences regarding the ‘honorable demise of such a fine example of a true Englishman.’
Harlan had been a child at the time of his father’s death, but he’d never forgotten the kindness and genuine concern in Lord Wellington’s demeanor. Over the years, Harlan had seen the ‘Iron Duke’ lose some of his support with the agricultural Swing Riots of 1830, but he had stood firm and continued his work in Parliament.
After a brief period of mourning, Harlan had gone to Wellington with the request that he be offered the chance to honor his country by serving. It was the duke himself who appealed to the Home Office.
Harlan could remember his words to this day, “I thought very highly of your father. I am sure that you have inherited the same determined characteristics.” With that, he’d written a letter of recommendation, and since there were many who still approved of the duke for his heroic efforts during the war, Harlan had been given the opportunity to prove himself in the field. It hadn’t taken long before he had gained the approval of many and was one of the best and most devoted servants to the Crown, as he’d been told more than once by some of the most influential men in power—including Wellington.
However, there were times like this, when Harlan wondered if Parliament had any faith in the process of his work at all. They had given him leave to act however Harlan saw fit, and while they had not initially approved of the prospect of thievery, they decided it was the best course. It appeared that window was slowly closing on him.
“For now, we focus on the queen and leave the rebellion alone,” Harlan announced. “If there is an assassin out there, if we are successful in foiling his attempts, it will do enough to cripple the rest.”
Benjamin nodded. “What of your captive? Do you think she is someone of interest?”
Only to me. “No,” Harlan said tightly. He’d come to the conclusion that morning. There was nothing in her effects or her bearing that proved she had any ulterior motives, nor someone intent on this sort of mischief. The main problem he faced was his own attraction to the lady.
“How long do you intend to keep her before you let her go?”
That was the question Harlan was trying to answer as well. “I’m not sure yet.”
Benjamin looked at him curiously. “I’ve never known you to be so hesitant. Why are you now?”
“All possibilities must be examined,” Harlan hedged, hoping the other man would leave it at that. He didn’t.
“Good God,” Benjamin breathed. “You aren’t starting to… care for her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harlan snapped.
“Am I?” Benjamin countered with a shake of his head. “I knew it was a mistake to take her with us, but I could tell the moment you looked at her like a wounded animal on the side of the road that she would be your downfall.”
Harlan wanted to refute the other man’s words, to tell him that he didn’t know what he was talking about. However, while Hugh had known him the longest, Benjamin was a man who did not allow much to go past his notice. To lie would be an insult more than anything else. With a considering frown, Harlan scrubbed a hand down his face and said, “I have to wonder if you might actually be right in this instance.”
Benjamin grabbed his arm, his tone imploring, “Then let me escort her into the village and send her out on the first coach to Birmingham.”
This is where Harlan had to refuse his rational side for the first time in his life and go where his heart yearned to lead. “I can’t do that.”
Instead of appearing upset, Benjamin seemed resigned. “Then may God be with you. That female is going to be a lot to handle.”
Harlan’s mouth kicked up at the corner, although his eyes were firm and focused when he returned, “Why do you think I find myself inexplicably drawn to her?”
It didn’t take longfor Leah to decide that she liked the bandit across from her. She learned that his name was Hugh, and like Harlan, they seemed to be on a strict, first name basis, if that was actually their true identities at all.
Nevertheless, Hugh was a very entertaining gentleman. His red hair didn’t really match his charming personality, the flashes of a grin that seemed to come to him so naturally, along with an ease of character that Leah had never managed to perfect in all her years of travel. She might have thought she would have gotten more comfortable speaking to members of the opposite sex, and to an extent she had, but not where Harlan was concerned. She either found him entirely frustrating—or annoyingly seductive. Neither were good for her peace of mind.
“I am sure you are ready to make your way on to Birmingham,” he noted casually. Almost too much.
Leah paused as she continued to sip on the bitter coffee. “I am sure my brother is concerned about me.” In truth, she wondered if he even remembered that she was due to arrive the day before. It was difficult to believe that she already felt more at ease in this modest kitchen, in the home of a highwayman, rather than her own relation. But then, Henry had never appeared to offer any sort of affection to her. Whenever she joined their father for a visit from their travels, Henry had brushed off her presence like a bothersome insect. It was because of that she had not endeared herself to him, and she was quite sure the feeling was mutual. He had agreed to take her in now because his position demanded that he do so. Otherwise, she was quite sure he would have let her rot in France on her own.
“Unless, of course, you are in no hurry to continue to your original destination.”
She glanced up sharply. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
