Page 87 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

Jamie’s head snapped up, then reached for the glass. His friend’s fingers brushed across Valeran’s, trying to grasp the snifter, but Jamie’s hands were so shaky he failed. Without a word, Valeran guided his friend’s fingers to wrap around the glass, then sat down in the chair next to the other man.

Jamie took a gulp of what had to be a substantial amount of the brandy, as his friend coughed hoarsely a moment later. Both hands clutching the crystal snifter, Jamie hunkered forward in his chair. Despite his partner’s shaken condition, Valeran knew he had to question the other man.

“Where did they find him?” he asked in his best, take charge, voice.

Although he sounded in complete control, Valeran’s body had become little more than a piano wire, ready to snap free from its tuning pin with a deadly force. The guttural sound Jamie made was incomprehensible. His friend and partner quickly took another swallow of brandy. Head bowed, Jamie blew out an explosive sound of grief, pain, and rage.

“Near the Black Horse, one of Harry’s contacts sent word to him the police had been called to the scene. We thought at first it was more than one person who attacked him, because Knowles was only a short distance away, but Wills is convinced it was just one man, especially with what Wills found in Peter’s coat pocket at the morgue.”

Valeran stiffened at the knowledge Wills had been the one to examine his cousin’s body. He’d been recruited out of necessity when Harry had lost in a knife fight at one of the pubs in Spitalfields. God knows how the young man was dealing with the shock of examining his cousin’s corpse.

As a doctor, Wills dealt with death daily, but this was a family member’s brutal murder. Jamie’s entire body shuddered, pulling Valeran’s attention back to the other man. Slowly, his friend and partner pulled something from his coat pocket. Jamie’s hand was trembling violently as he held up what appeared to be a piece of paper.

“The son of a bitch left a fucking calling card, Val,” he whispered hoarsely. “A goddamn fucking calling card.”

“What?” Stunned, Valeran stared at his friend in disbelief. Jamie leaned forward to rest his arms on his thighs as he stared at the small card in his hand.

“There isn’t any wording on it, it’s just some kind of symbol. I can’t make heads or tails out of it, and I’m not sure anyone else will be able to either. All of this is my fault,” Jamie choked out in a voice that vibrated with grief and stark guilt. Valeran stiffened.

“It’s not your fault, Jamie. Do not take on blame where none exists.” Valeran reached out to grip his friend’s shoulder tightly. “Peter understood the risks. He knew how deadly this entire thing could be. We all do.”

“But I’m the one who recruited him.”

The despair in his friend’s voice was something he’d never heard before. It made Valeran’s tension rise. The crackling fire in the hearth was the only sound in the room, as the two of them dealt with the news. It was a shock, but Valeran’s mind had already shifted into gear as he tried to form plans on how to protect every member of the foreign section.

They would have to begin operating in threes if they were going to help ensure everyone’s safety. The calling card the Prussian had left needed to be studied and the symbol deciphered. There was also the need for him to reevaluate assignments. As the senior leader in the foreign section, he needed to assess the skill levels of every agent in the division.

With Featherstone’s death, and now Peter’s and Knowles’s, the threat to the Empire’s security was seriously in jeopardy. If their ranks were picked off, one by one, it would limit their ability to protect the Crown’s intelligence and its state secrets., the aftershocks would be devastating.

“Have your aunt and uncle been told?”

“Rufus and Harry were going to tell them, but Wills said the two of them had just lost their brother and were too badly shaken to tell their parents.”

“Wills is going to tell them having just examining Peter’s body?” Valeran burst out in alarm. “Fuck, he’s barely out of medical school, how in the—”

“He said he deals with death every day and was the only one of us best prepared to break the news to Uncle Percy and Aunt Rhea,” Jamie said with a note of admiration in his voice. “Wills was just as shaken as the rest of us, but the way he took charge, it was like having you there, Val. None of us could function, but Wills knew exactly what to do.”

Jamie stumbled to his feet and moved to the liquor cart. Glass rang out as it connected with more glass. Looking over his shoulder, Valeran saw his friend’s shadow pouring another brandy. The other man swayed slightly, then steadied himself by leaning against the cart for a moment.

“The only thing Wills failed to do was convince Harry not to go. Harry was adamant he be the one to tell his parents. He said it was his duty as the oldest son.”

“After Harry and Wills left, the rest of us split up to inform everyone else. I said I’d come here. I knew you might need to address several of the current operations and I knew Amalie would need you.”

“You did the right thing. I’ll send a note to C, letting him know what’s happened,” Valeran said softly. Jamie nodded, then shuddered in his chair before he gulped down what was left of his brandy.

“God knows how I’ll ever be able to face Uncle Percy and Aunt Rhea again. They’re never going to forgive me,” Jamie whispered before releasing a guttural groan of deep guilt and sorrow.

The desolation in his friends words tore at Valeran, knowing he was powerless to help his friend. Suddenly, he jerked upright in a sharp movement as for the first time, he realized the stakes had been raised in this deadly game they were playing.

“Christ almighty, your aunt and uncle cannot be told what Peter was involved in.”

“What?” Jamie said with bleak confusion as he straightened slightly to take another swig of his brandy.

“If Wills and Harry tell them what really happened, it puts everyone in danger. The entire family, Jamie. All of us.” Valeran’s terse response made Jamie sit up straight in his chair and go rigid.

“Judas priest,” he choked out.

The loud sound of someone pounding on the front door filtered through the study’s closed door. Springing to his feet, Valeran had taken only two steps when a tall, feminine shadow threw open the door and hurried into the room. The moment the woman spoke, Valeran recognized Peter’s sister.