“Like you?”
Oliver shrugged. “If Corbyn deems me worthy of the assignment, but I am currently working on another case.”
Baldwin leaned his head back and revealed, “Corbyn wants me to retire.”
“Would that be the worst thing?”
“It would,” Baldwin said. “The last thing I want to do is resume my place in Society.”
“Is being a marquess really that troublesome?” Oliver joked.
Baldwin huffed. “I never wanted to be a marquess, at least not at the expense of Father.”
“I am well aware of that, but it doesn’t change the fact that Father died,” Oliver reminded him.
“You don’t need to remind me of that,” Baldwin said in a sharper tone than he intended.
Oliver leaned forward in his seat. “Did Corbyn state why he wanted you to retire?”
“He did,” Baldwin confirmed. “He wants me to resume my seat in the House of Lords and vote down Lord Desmond’s bill.”
Oliver let out a low whistle. “Lord Desmond is quite influential in the House of Lords. Did Corbyn mention that he intends to run for Prime Minister?”
“That he did.”
“Just so you are aware, he is still just as despicable as he was when you last saw him,” Oliver shared.
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Baldwin stared up at the white embellishment on the ceiling as the candles on the tables cast shadows around the outskirts of the room. “Being home feels so odd,” he admitted.
“In what way?”
“For starters, I lived in single rooms above coaching inns for nearly three years,” Baldwin shared. “I learned how to preserve candles for as long as possible.”
“That must be a rather difficult thing for you to overcome,” Oliver said with amusement in his tone. “A rich marquess who had to learn to be frugal.”
Baldwin grew reflective. “Despite the hardships, I am not ready to give up being an agent of the Crown.”
“What did Corbyn say to that?”
“He is going to let me work this last case,” Baldwin shared, “but then I am to retire.”
Oliver made a clucking noise with his tongue. “You were recruited right out of Oxford to be an agent.”
“As were you.”
“But, unlike you, I haven’t been working as an agent for nearly ten years,” Oliver pointed out. “You are thirty years old and have managed to survive being an Englishman living in France during a time of war.”
“That is true.”
“Furthermore, you are a marquess and require an heir,” Oliver said. “How are you going to accomplish that feat if you are traipsing all over England and Europe?”
“It matters not, especially since you are my heir.”
Oliver shook his head. “I don’t want to be your heir. I have no intentions of ever marrying.”
“Why is that?”
A haunted look came into Oliver’s eyes. “A lot has changed since you left.”
Before Baldwin could ask his brother what he meant by that, the door to the drawing room opened and his mother stepped into the room.
“The water for your bath is being prepared as we speak,” his mother announced in a cheerful tone. “Would you care to retire to your bedchamber?”
Baldwin rose from the settee. “That sounds delightful.”
“I also took it upon myself to inform Pratt that you were home, and he will notify the staff,” his mother shared.
Baldwin came to a stop at the door and gestured his mother through first. As they stepped into the entry hall, Pratt approached them and bowed. “It is good to see you, milord.”
Baldwin acknowledged the fastidious butler with a tip of his head. “Likewise, Pratt.”
“I have sent Stevens up to act as your valet,” Pratt said. “Do you require anything else?”
“Yes. A man will be coming by the servants’ entrance in the coming days to inquire about work, and I want you to hire him.”
“Does he have any qualifications?”
“He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask,” Baldwin replied frankly. “Furthermore, I want you to reimburse him for his travel expenses.”
Pratt lifted his brow, but wisely did not say anything on the matter. “Yes, milord. I will see to it.”
“See that you do, and report back to me when the man has been situated.”
His mother gave him a curious look and asked, “What is this man to you?”
“He attempted to rob me earlier.”
“And you wish to employ him?” his mother questioned.
“I do,” Baldwin replied. “He was just desperate to feed his family and couldn’t see any other way.”
“And how did you know that?”
“I could see it in his eyes,” Baldwin admitted plainly.
His mother arched an eyebrow. “How is that possible?”
“Because eyes never lie, Mother,” Baldwin said. “You must remember that.”
“I will make note of it.” His mother gestured towards the stairs. “Let’s get you bathed and fed. I have requested Mrs. Hutchings to prepare supper for you.”
“Thank you for seeing to that.”
“It is my pleasure.”
As Baldwin walked up the stairs, he knew that he should feel elated at being home, but uneasiness had settled about him instead.
Chapter Three
“Do you mind if I go shopping today?” Mrs. Foster asked as she sat across the table in the dining room.
“Not at all,” Madalene replied, reaching for her cup of chocolate.
“You could always come with me.”
“I would rather not.”
Mrs. Foster smiled kindly. “I have never met a woman who was so opposed to shopping as you.”
“I only shop when the situation warrants it.” Madalene returned her cup to the saucer and picked up a piece of toast from her plate. “You will miss my boxing lesson,” she added.
“I find it rather odd that you enjoy such a barbaric sport.”
“It keeps me nimble and healthy.”
With a shake of her head, Mrs. Foster reached for her fork and said, “Be sure to have a footman near you during your lessons.”
“I always do.”
Mrs. Foster took a bite of her food and chewed thoughtfully. “Will you be calling on your friend from boarding school while we are here in Town?”
Madalene brushed the crumbs off her hands before saying, “I intend to. I will send a letter to Lady Jane today.”
“I always
