He had barely gotten his cigar lit when Jermyn came out of the inn and strode over to the bench. Sedgewick stood for a moment, looking down at him. Benedict blew out a cloud of smoke, studiously ignoring the other man.
Well? Jermyn asked at last. Would you like to explain why you are refusing such a golden opportunity?
Benedict cocked his head to look at him. Golden opportunity? For what? Making an even bigger hash of things? Wasting what precious time we have? Good Gad, Jer, I think you have gone mad.
At least Im not blind. Or is it hopeless? Have you given up?
That remark brought Benedict surging to his feet. No man, not even you, can accuse me of giving up.
Oh, give over, Rawdon, his friend retorted equably. I know better than anyone how little likely you are to give up. When everyone had given you up for lost there in the Peninsula, I was the only one who was certain that you would find your way back to your own linesand bring back your comrades as well, even though you had caught two balls in your leg. After all, I was the one who had had to suffer to the bloody end through every ghastly childhood escapade you dreamed up. However, I cannot understand why you are so unwilling to do this.
Benedict goggled at him. You have come unhinged, Jer. Anyone could see that its utterly impossible. Pretend to be engaged to thatthat hoyden? It wouldnt last a day. We would be at each others throats in a half hour. No one could believe that we are wanting to marry each other.
Why not? Shes an attractive womanunderneath that mud, I mean.
How can you tell? Hell, its not her attractiveness. Ill grant you that she has a pleasant face.
The other man groaned. Pleasant? Didnt you see those eyes? Blue and sparkling
And a passable figure.
Now, I know you havent changed that much. No matter what Annabeth did to you, surely you can still appreciate a damn fine figure.
Oh, all right. Yes, she has a most delectable body. Benedicts voice roughened faintly on the words as he remembered how that body had felt as it slid through his hands, the brief moments when his fingers had brushed over her ripe breasts as they struggled. And no doubt she has skin like an angel beneath all that mud. But that is beside the point. It is not her physical appearance that is the problem. It is her personality. We have been at each other like hammer and tongs from the instant we met.
You think there are not husbands and wives who are the same way? You must have lived too sheltered a life in the military.
Of course Ive seen battling couples. But surely they were not like that when they were first betrothed.
Nonsense. There are some who simply love to fight. Remember Capston? He and the baroness couldnt get through the day without a disagreement, but he was mad about the woman.
Capston was mad, period.
Sedgewick shrugged. So? These people dont know you. How are they to know that you are not mad, also? Besides, there are other reasons people marry, you know, besides compatibility. There are bloodlines, wealth, titles
He stopped abruptly, casting a guilty glance at Benedict. Im sorry. I didnt
Yes, Benedict retorted flatly. I am well aware that there are those who marry for wealth and titles. And it is precisely because of my experience, Jermyn, that I do not want to get involved in this. Do you think that I could trust my safety and the safety of all our agents to a woman?
Sedgewick sighed. Not all women are like Annabeth. Not all would sell their souls or their bodies for a title.
Oh, Annabeth did not break our engagement simply because I had lost the title. There was also the estate. He smiled grimly. And I know that not all women are like her. There are some whose price is much lowerand doubtless some who would look even higher. But I will not put my faith in a woman again, much less give my secrets and my life into her hands. Least of all a hellion like that one.
But there is no need to! That is the beauty of it. She need know nothing about us. Or about our little project. She needs a fiancé for her own purposes. She is too busy worrying about her problem to wonder what you are doing or why you are willing to do this for her.
Benedict snorted. She would not wonder why I was willing. She thinks I would do anything for money.
You havent done a great deal to give the girl a good impression of you, his friend pointed out. And thats all to our advantage. Thinking you are a scoundrel, she will not question your hiring yourself out as her fiancé. She will never dream that you are a spy in the midst of her family. You do not have to trust her. She will be as deceived as the rest of them.
Benedict looked at his lifelong friend. Jermyns bland good looks and impeccable manners had always hidden an active and scheming brain. It had usually been Jermyn who came up with the tricks they pulled as lads, though it had just as usually been the dark, willful Benedict who was blamed for them, while the blond, angelic Jermyn was forgiven for going along with his mischievous friend. Benedict often thought that if the war with Napoléon had not come along, giving Jermyn a chance to turn his devious, imaginative skills to the task of defeating the enemy, Sedgewick would have wound up in Newgateand doubtless would have somehow inveigled Benedict to be there with him.
And you see nothing wrong in deceiving an innocent young woman in this way? In planting a spy in her household and embroiling her in a vipers nest of treachery and murder?
Jermyn pulled back, one hand going to his chest in a dramatic fashion. Benedictyou think that I would harm this young woman in any way? I wonder that you should even want to claim my friendship.
There are times when I do not, Benedict retorted bluntly. And dont put on that innocent air with me. I think that you would do anything necessary to find out what has happened to our agents and to save our little project from being destroyed.
Wouldnt you? Jermyn raised a cool eyebrow. My dear friend, I have worked long and hard to establish those men in France, and their services are invaluable to our government. Knowledge is priceless. It is what wins wars. Right now, we are utterly without knowledge.
During the past four years, while Benedict was with the army on the Peninsula, fighting Napoléons armies directly, Jermyn had been in the Home Office, battling the French on a secret front. He had established a network of spies within France, calling the project Gideon and planting men, both Englishmen and French émigrés, inside the other country, whence they kept him supplied with news of the enemy. Rumors, stolen documents, the mood of the people, financial and political conditions, news of troop movements and morale, of supplies and problemsall were funneled out of France and into Jermyns office. For the past few months, since Benedict was forced to leave the army because of the injuries he had suffered in battle, he had joined his friend in his dark, desperate conflict.
Benedict knew how invaluable their work was, and, though he chafed at being relegated to a passive, waiting role in the government offices, he had given it his usual full devotion. And, like Jermyn, he knew just how catastrophic was the danger that was now threatening the spy ringand, by implication, England itself, for the destruction of the Gideon network in France would create a huge hole in the whole war effort. The army, the government, would once again be without the knowledge it so desperately needed. Worse, there was always the possibility that the French might be sending in spies or saboteurs of their own through the very channels that Jermyn, through the Gideon network, had created.