To Wed a Scandalous Spy Read Free Page B

Falcon looked sourly at him. "May I continue?"
    The Lion waved a hand magnanimously and the Falcon resumed. "I informed them that Foster is expected to arrive in London shortly with something—we have no concrete information on what it is yet—that Maywell felt would be very damaging to the Crown."
    The Falcon tapped the document he'd laid on the table. "I have here the missive from the Fox in response, brought by fast courier."
    The Lion reached into his coat. "And I have the same from the Cobra."
    The Falcon nodded, then glanced down at his own document. "The Fox relates that he is still of the opinion that our first priority ought to be the trailing of the traitor. The Liar's Club should continue their investigation into the identity of the Voice of Society and how it seems to know a bit too much about their covert activities. We have higher concerns."
    "It's just as well. I don't think the Cobra will ever entirely trust the Liars." The Lion unfolded his document. "The Cobra has already begun tracing Foster's path from the town where he landed, but he also reminds us that we are still investigating the possibility that there is someone pulling the strings of the French espionage in England, someone that might very well be an influential member of Society."
    "Is the Prime Minister still hoping to dig that name out of Louis Wadsworth?"
    The Lion nodded. "Liverpool is letting Wadsworth stew in the Tower at the moment."
    The Falcon did not quite smile. "Ruing his greedy ways, I hope. Imagine selling faulty arms to the British government on behalf of the French!"
    The Lion scowled. "He got paid twice, the bastard."
    "Considering his present position, I'd say he's still collecting on that ill-considered plan," the Falcon said.
    The Falcon and the Lion put their cohorts' messages down at their respective places at the table, in effect making it look as if the two had just stepped out of the meeting for a moment.
    The Falcon leaned back in his chair. "I concur with the Cobra's plan. First Sir Foster, then the Voice. I believe that the traitor will lead us to this puppet master."
    The Lion nodded. "I concur as well. The Cobra has insisted on personally taking the Foster mission, since he has previous acquaintance with the traitor."
    "Meaning his ill-fated entry into the Knights of Fleur, I assume. It was a good idea to crack them by joining."
    The Lion nodded. "It is to the Cobra's credit that he insisted on taking the fire for the royal arse when things went to hell."
    The Falcon shook his head ruefully. "Can you imagine being painted with that brush for the rest of your life?"
    The Lion let out a gust. "Sometimes I have nightmares that it is I."
    The moment of sympathy stretched on. Then the two men visibly shook off the pall.
    "Well, I suppose that brings us to our close." The Falcon stood and gave his waistcoat a single precise tug. The Lion, who tended to be perpetually rumpled, didn't bother.
    "I hear you're going to be married," the Falcon said as they moved toward the door. "May I offer my congratulations?"
    "Thank you. She's a lovely girl, well brought up and demure. She'll make a fine Lady Greenleigh someday."
    The Falcon slid his companion a look. "Is it a love match, then?"
    The Lion wasn't fooled by the casual tone. "Have no fear. I won't fall in love and reveal all our secrets on the pillows. She's merely an attractive girl who will breed me an heir." He dug for another cheroot in his coat pocket. "You should consider marrying. It could only improve your cover, you know. You're beginning to be far too intriguing a mystery to the eligible ladies in town."
    The Falcon sent him a long-suffering look. "I'd rather not, thank you. The Falcon's responsibilities do not make for a good husband. Why would I want to do that to an innocent woman?"
    The Lion looked thoughtful. "Why indeed?"
    "Do you suppose the Cobra will ever marry?" The Lion shook his head. "I'd say 'tis doubtful. After all, what self-respecting woman would tie