My Lady Governess (Zebra Regency Romance) by Wilma Counts Read Free Book Online Page B

really? The War Office does not waste men of your talents on petty smugglers of the occasional barrel of brandy. Should you not be in Vienna sorting out cloak-and-dagger intrigues?”
    Captain Olmstead laughed. “I was trying to establish for the men with me, and for any onlookers, that you and I are relative strangers. Don’t want to compromise your credit with the locals, you know, by having them think you are so intimate with the chief excise man in the area.”
    “Why should that matter?” Adrian raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Chief excise man?”
    “For the time being. Perhaps it does not matter at all. But I could not be sure, so I chose the way of caution. Take a look at this before we talk any farther.”
    Olmstead drew a document out of his packet and handed Adrian a memorandum marked “Urgent and Confidential.”
    “Why was this not sent with the regular courier?” Adrian asked as he started to read. Then he turned startled eyes to his visitor. “I see why now. Damn!”
    The captain nodded. “Just so. Somehow some very delicate information is still making its way to the French and our negotiators in Vienna are having a devil of a time. That wily Talleyrand always seems to know what he has no business knowing at all.”
    “The man is inordinately clever.”
    “It has become worse recently, for the sort of information he is obtaining now is more detailed and more accurate.”
    “I thought we nipped the problem with the arrest of Henri Pierre. That and changing the code on a frequent basis.” Adrian’s tone was impatient.
    “Clever fellow, our Monsieur Pierre, was he not? Unobtrusive little fellow establishes himself as the lover of Lord Farrington’s wife and voila! he has an excellent conduit for information from one pillow to another.”
    “Are we bringing charges against her?”
    “No. Seems not. Canning and Castlereagh would like to do so, mind you. But to prosecute her would bring more information out in the open than anyone deems prudent. Farrington’s career is ruined, of course. He has been advised to take his wife on an extended tour of Italy and then retire to the country.”
    “Perhaps that is just punishment for a woman who loved London society as much as she seemed to,” Adrian said. “But, getting back to the current problem ...”
    “Yes. Well. Seems Monsieur Pierre was not alone in providing information to his countrymen. He was useful to them—devilishly so, in fact. But either we missed another source at the time, or they have managed to establish a new one in record time.”
    “I was so sure we had plugged that leak.”
    “We know that the information is not getting out of England by conventional means,” Olmstead continued. “It almost has to be traveling from some small harbor on our coast, probably along avenues established by smugglers. Hence, my presence in your domain. In some cases, locals involved in the ‘free trade’ probably have no idea they are also dealing in espionage.”
    “Good grief! That makes looking for a needle in a haystack seem like child’s play.”
    “True. But this particular spy appears to be someone close to one of the people presently in England with regular access to information being sent to our team in Vienna.”
    “Are you suggesting my courier or someone in my household is passing along information to the French?” Adrian asked flatly.
    “Not necessarily. We have narrowed it down to someone close to you—or to Dennington, or Morton, or Canning—Castlereagh being out of the country.”
    “Narrowed it down?” Adrian’s tone was rich with irony.
    “You are right. That is overstating the case mightily. All of you have very large staffs spread over half of England. And two of you, you and Dennington, have major properties right on the coast.”
    Adrian sighed. “Dennington and I also both have close contacts with French émigrés. Dennington’s wife is French. My sister-in-law still has relatives in Brittany. Her