Viridian (The Hundred-Days Series Book 2) by Baird Wells Read Free Book Online

and it was all simple
enough. There was a back door, or there was not. It was kept locked, or it wasn't.
The butcher's boy reached the corner punctually at three, or he was not always
on time. A convenient window left open, a rope just where you needed it; a
receipt for candles which was anything but.
    Olivia did real, laudable work.
Paralytics, poisons. Disguises, forgery. A brilliant actress who fooled
everyone, from time-to-time him included.
    He spared a glanced behind them,
then speared two pieces of thick bacon. “Are we the last two souls in the
house?”
    Pouring coffee from a steaming
silver pot, Olivia set a full cup in front of him, trading it for the empty one
near his plate. “Madame Ordbrande,” she offered without needing further
explanation.
    “Tonight. Of course.” Madame had just returned from Sweden, newly-minted mistress of a prince, with heaps of
his gold in her purse. Everyone in the house would sleep late, dine late, and
prepare rigorously for a five-hour stretch of debauchery. Her fete tonight was
quite the thing in many circles, their current hosts included.
    A flash of sunlight caught on the
coffee pot's sterling belly, and Ty winced, shielding his eyes a moment. “Why
is every drape in the house open!”
    Squinting, Olivia examined him with
narrowed eyes, then returned to her toast. “I thought you didn't imbibe while traveling .”
    'Traveling' was their innocuous
code word for 'spying'. He knew what she was asking: was their mission safe
from intoxicated lips, and was he fit for duty now?
    Frowning, he drained bitter liquid
from his coffee cup, ignoring a burn from tongue to throat. “I do not, except
with a particular friend.”
    “Friend?” Olivia raised her eyes,
regarding him through steam from her own delicate mug.
    “Friend,” he insisted
halfheartedly, wondering at any friendship that left him feeling the way he did
now.
    “Friend,” she repeated, nodding and
scraping a last dainty bite from her plate. “Does he have horns and cloven
hooves, perchance?”
    He put a finger on each side of his
head, poking them up until she snorted with laughter. “In fact, he does.” He
would take her bait and enjoy getting the better of her.
    Long, slender fingers lifted her
plate and she set it aside with the grace of a queen, smile beatific. “Perfect.
I'm certain he finds your life a cautionary tale.”
    Conceding her point, he chuckled
while she refilled his cup.
    He should feel more gratitude for
Olivia and her sunny disposition. They had been forced together, after all. She
could have been boorish or sour. Or continually eager for a round of
arm-wrestling, like his last female Prussian asset. He'd been lucky to
be paired with Olivia. She was witty and engaging, serious about her work. And
beautiful; he could acknowledge it even if she was spoken for. He could still
enjoy his view across the table. As partners went, he’d fared pretty well. By a
teasing light in her eyes as she studied him now, he hoped the feeling was
mutual.
    Once breakfast was over, they began
the next portion of their routine. Olivia doled out papers between them:
Swedish, French, Prussian, British. All were equally divided, and then they
began to comb. Gossip column fragments which might hint at a target's
whereabouts or plans. Messages from other agents buried in the script of an
advertisement for gout liniment. Political dark clouds signaling trouble on the
horizon.
    Olivia gasped, leaning in closer to
her paper as though proximity would help her absorb whatever she had read.
“Lady G.F. succumbs to criminal affection
for Ld. M. Lady G.F.now in a delicate
condition.”
    Ty knew first hand this was not assignment-related information. “Not his bastard.” He didn't bother looking up;
he could feel Olivia's gaze burning the disregard from his face.
    “You sound markedly confident.”
    He shrugged. “I am. She did not
hand me my walking papers for 'Lord M.'” He met Olivia's eyes, wiggling brows
for her