Page 50 of Isabel and the Rogue

“Good. After that whole ghastly business with Earl Tyrell, I refuse to be caught unawares again.” The lieutenant colonel propped his elbow on the table and rubbed his brow. “I don’t know how the man thought he could just abduct the wife of an MP, and from your home, of all places.”

Sirius didn’t, either. “Hubris was Tyrell’s fatal flaw.”

“Indeed.” The older man cocked his head. “Now back to Miss Luna. What do you know of her?”

That she was brilliant. Clever and passionate. That Sirius hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was right away because he’d been so preoccupied with his own tasks, his own pursuits, until Isabel had quite literally snagged his heart in her small hand and squeezed it tight.

But of course, Sirius made no such confession.

“Isabel Luna is reserved. A bit shy, even a little awkward in a crowd. But she’s incredibly intelligent. When she’s comfortable with you, she shares her wit and charm.” Sirius lifted a shoulder in what he hoped was an airy fashion. “It’s easy to see why Westhope is so enchanted by her.”

Green’s gaze narrowed slightly, before he turned to study his coffee cup. “Enchantment is something you can work with. Coach her on what line of conversation to begin with him to determine what he knows. Encourage an attachment, which I doubt will be hard to do. Westhope is a bloody viscount, after all.”

A detail Sirius had not been able to ignore. It would be quite the feat if Isabel were to secure the hand of a peer.

“…and with the dispatches we’ve received from contacts in Mexico, you can tell Miss Luna—”

Sirius blinked, his spine straightening as his attention focused on the lieutenant colonel. “I beg your pardon?”

The older man arched a displeased brow. “We’ve received some reports of activity in Mexico. You can use it as enticement for Miss Luna’s cooperation.”

Sirius slid to the edge of his chair, the hair on his arms standing at attention. “What sort of activity?”

Green stared at him impassively for a moment, and Sirius hoped he didn’t appear as anxious as he felt. Finally, the older man leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his barrel chest. “There have been increased campaigns to the north. The monarchists have taken Coahuila and are reported to be making campaigns into other northern Mexican states.”

That was probably why Isabel’s parents had been forced to flee their last location. “What do you know of their movements? That would be excellent information to pass along to Miss Luna.”

After spending several minutes discussing the monarchists’ movements in northern Mexico, Sirius licked his lips. “And what of Maximilian? At dinner last night, the Luna misses mentioned that he’s championed several reforms that have angered some of his supporters.”

Sirius had found the discussion fascinating. He had tried to learn what he could about the French occupation of Mexico after he hosted Isabel and her sisters at Dancourt Abbey two summers prior, but he wouldn’t dare say he understood the complexities of the situation. Isabel and Gabriela were a fount of knowledge regarding their homeland, but Green had access to updated information that they did not.

“Yes, well”—Green tapped his finger against his coffee mug—“it would seem the monarchists should have known better than to get into bed with a Napoleon, especially now that the Americans are free to lend their support to Juárez.”

An idea suddenly occurred to Sirius, and he pressed his tongue to the top of his mouth as he wrestled with the right words to express it.

“You look as if you drank sour milk, Dawson. What’s wrong?”

Goddamn Green and his perceptiveness. Releasing a silent sigh, Sirius said, “If you were to learn…of possible threats to members of the deposed Juárez government, would you tell me?”

A fraught silence stretched between them. Green stared at him intently, and Sirius knew what he was thinking. They had agreed to share information with Isabel, but what that information would be was decided solely by the lieutenant colonel. Yet both men knew this topic was different because Green was aware that Isabel’s father was an adviser to the Mexican president. If the Home Office had intelligence that her father and President Juárez were in danger, how could Sirius not tell her? It was unthinkable.

Green rose to his feet, tossing several coins on the table. Snaring Sirius’s gaze, he nodded. “If I learn anything, I will let you know.”

Pressing his lips together, Sirius inclined his head.

“Now it’s your turn,” the lieutenant colonel growled softly. “Find out what you can from the viscount. Encourage Miss Luna to take advantage of Westhope’s infatuation. There’s a suspicion I can’t shake that he knows more than he understands, even if inadvertently.”

Sirius nodded.

Green clapped a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “I know I don’t have to remind you, but I’m going to anyway. Have a care, Dawson. Westhope is a respected peer with connections, and if he is keen on making this Miss Luna his bride, it would be for the best to maintain some distance from her.”

“But of course—” he began, but the lieutenant colonel squeezed his shoulder, cutting Sirius short.

“Explanations are not necessary.” Green shook his head. “Just don’t throw your career away so easily. Your men would not want that for you.”

Sirius tried to contain his wince, but he was certain it showed on his face. For Green to make such a statement, to bring up his men in such a way, was a blow he had not seen coming, and his head swam with the implications.

Green placed his hat on his head and moved toward the coffee shop door. “Until next time, Dawson.”