creations, and the astonishment of seeing her dressed so fashionably, so attractively, shot heat through his veins.
She took the seat beside him, carefully arranging her skirts as she did so, and Adrian’s eyes narrowed. Where exactly was she going this night? After meeting with Liverpool, did she intend to rendezvous with her lover? How many other nights had she slipped out of the house, unbeknownst to him, to meet with other men? He remembered Cordelia’s congratulations. Was Sophia with child? Another man’s child?
Adrian would kill him. He’d kill her .
He clenched his fists on the arms of the chair and glared at his wife. She gave him a perplexed glance and then turned her attention to the prime minister. “I think what Lord Smythe is attempting to express is that we did not expect to see one another tonight.”
“Yes.” Liverpool nodded at his assistant, dismissing the man. “It is a testament to your considerable skills that neither of you ever revealed yourself to the other. Good God, but my wife probably knows more about me than I do. Nosy woman.”
Adrian noted he said the last fondly. But it was no compliment to Adrian’s marriage that he and Sophia were taken completely by surprise tonight.
“In any case, I have it on good authority that you, Lord Smythe, and you, Lady Smythe, are two of the best agents we have. And I have need of an operative with superior skills.”
Adrian unclenched his hands and leaned forward, now all business. “I think I should tell you, my lord, I mentored under Lord Melbourne and am recently retired from the Barbican group. Whatever it is you need, I am your man.”
“Perhaps his lordship does not need a man,” Sophia drawled from beside him. Adrian gave her a sideways glance and saw, despite her apparent nonchalance, her jaw was clenched. “I, too, am recently retired from the Barbican group.”
Adrian started. That was impossible. She couldn’t be a member of the Barbican group. She couldn’t—
He frowned. She couldn’t be involved in this affair tonight, either, and yet there she was, seated beside him.
“And I think, your lordship,” she continued, “if you look at my record, you will see I am your agent. I will see whatever you need is done.”
“Ah, yes,” Adrian said, leaning back and giving her a bored look. “The same way you saw to the capture and questioning of Lucien Ducos?”
She narrowed her large, lovely eyes at him. Without the spectacles, they dominated her face. “Exactly the same way. Except this time, you won’t be stepping in at the last minute to claim all the glory and benefit from my weeks of hard work.”
Adrian shot forward. “You think I did not work that case? All of the intelligence I gathered was my own, madam. And I never wanted your glory. If glory is what you desire, you are welcome to it.”
“By Jove.” Liverpool shook his head. “Is this what you two are like at home? No wonder you risk your lives abroad.”
Sophia began to speak, but Liverpool held up a hand.
“Not another word. The next person who interrupts me goes home.”
Adrian clamped his mouth shut and noted Sophia sat back and pursed her lips. He didn’t know what this mission entailed, but whatever it was, he wanted it. It might be his entrée back into the Barbican group. If not, he wasn’t going to lose an assignment: not to another member of the Barbican group, not to a woman, and most especially not to his wife.
She shouldn’t even be here. She should be in Mayfair, tending his hearth and home. There was no way in hell he’d allow her to go gallivanting about on a dangerous mission.
That was a man’s job. His job.
“What I need,” Liverpool was saying now, “is an investigator. Someone who is discreet yet thorough. Someone who can keep a secret.” He looked at Adrian and then Sophia. “A few weeks ago, my half brother was murdered.”
The prime minister waited for a response, but neither Adrian nor Sophia so much as blinked. She
She took the seat beside him, carefully arranging her skirts as she did so, and Adrian’s eyes narrowed. Where exactly was she going this night? After meeting with Liverpool, did she intend to rendezvous with her lover? How many other nights had she slipped out of the house, unbeknownst to him, to meet with other men? He remembered Cordelia’s congratulations. Was Sophia with child? Another man’s child?
Adrian would kill him. He’d kill her .
He clenched his fists on the arms of the chair and glared at his wife. She gave him a perplexed glance and then turned her attention to the prime minister. “I think what Lord Smythe is attempting to express is that we did not expect to see one another tonight.”
“Yes.” Liverpool nodded at his assistant, dismissing the man. “It is a testament to your considerable skills that neither of you ever revealed yourself to the other. Good God, but my wife probably knows more about me than I do. Nosy woman.”
Adrian noted he said the last fondly. But it was no compliment to Adrian’s marriage that he and Sophia were taken completely by surprise tonight.
“In any case, I have it on good authority that you, Lord Smythe, and you, Lady Smythe, are two of the best agents we have. And I have need of an operative with superior skills.”
Adrian unclenched his hands and leaned forward, now all business. “I think I should tell you, my lord, I mentored under Lord Melbourne and am recently retired from the Barbican group. Whatever it is you need, I am your man.”
“Perhaps his lordship does not need a man,” Sophia drawled from beside him. Adrian gave her a sideways glance and saw, despite her apparent nonchalance, her jaw was clenched. “I, too, am recently retired from the Barbican group.”
Adrian started. That was impossible. She couldn’t be a member of the Barbican group. She couldn’t—
He frowned. She couldn’t be involved in this affair tonight, either, and yet there she was, seated beside him.
“And I think, your lordship,” she continued, “if you look at my record, you will see I am your agent. I will see whatever you need is done.”
“Ah, yes,” Adrian said, leaning back and giving her a bored look. “The same way you saw to the capture and questioning of Lucien Ducos?”
She narrowed her large, lovely eyes at him. Without the spectacles, they dominated her face. “Exactly the same way. Except this time, you won’t be stepping in at the last minute to claim all the glory and benefit from my weeks of hard work.”
Adrian shot forward. “You think I did not work that case? All of the intelligence I gathered was my own, madam. And I never wanted your glory. If glory is what you desire, you are welcome to it.”
“By Jove.” Liverpool shook his head. “Is this what you two are like at home? No wonder you risk your lives abroad.”
Sophia began to speak, but Liverpool held up a hand.
“Not another word. The next person who interrupts me goes home.”
Adrian clamped his mouth shut and noted Sophia sat back and pursed her lips. He didn’t know what this mission entailed, but whatever it was, he wanted it. It might be his entrée back into the Barbican group. If not, he wasn’t going to lose an assignment: not to another member of the Barbican group, not to a woman, and most especially not to his wife.
She shouldn’t even be here. She should be in Mayfair, tending his hearth and home. There was no way in hell he’d allow her to go gallivanting about on a dangerous mission.
That was a man’s job. His job.
“What I need,” Liverpool was saying now, “is an investigator. Someone who is discreet yet thorough. Someone who can keep a secret.” He looked at Adrian and then Sophia. “A few weeks ago, my half brother was murdered.”
The prime minister waited for a response, but neither Adrian nor Sophia so much as blinked. She
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