And All the King's Men

London, England, 1824…

"Have you found anything since last we spoke?"

Richard SanMarco looked up from the telegrams he'd been poring over. An expert code-breaker, he was the one they always sent all intercepted messages to, no matter how seemingly innocuous, for further inspection.

"Yes and no."

Jason arched a brow and swept his cloak to the side, seating himself on the rickety wooden bench at their favorite, very exclusive club. Jake's was named after its founder, the leader of the secret British agency that served the crown and protected England's best interests.

"I like the first part of that answer."

Ritchie sighed and set the papers down, fanning them out in front of Jason. "I say yes because these messages from the French are most definitely coded to plan an attack on the royal war ship stationed right off the coast of India. I say no because they are addressed to Marquis Lucas Spencer the Second."

"One of the British agents currently in the employ of the War Office," Jason supplied grimly.

His friend nodded. "Yes. So either Lucky is already on the case and planning to thwart all French plans for attack, or he's secretly working with them. I have no way of knowing for sure, even if we do manage to purloin copies of any additional incoming telegrams."

Jason scrubbed a hand over his face and nodded his quick salutations to Jonathan O'Brien, the Irish Earl of Harborview that worked alongside him to protect England from her corrupt lords and nobles, and those who wished her harm.

"We'll have to do better than this, Ritchie. There's no telling what Lucky's up to, especially if he's already collaborating with the French."

"Is this about the Spencer boy?" Gianni Zacchara, the only Italian in the room and a Count to boot, snorted to himself as he swung one breech-clad leg across the seat of his chair and straddled it backward. "You'd think he'd have learned something from his father's mistake. Weren't you the one that exposed Lucas's double-dealings?"

Jason nodded, gratefully accepting the scotch that Gianni brought with him. Say what you wanted about the Italians, but they knew their liquor and always had the best of it. The particular brand in his hand was almost as old as he was. "Yes, my first assignment when I joined the Bureau. The senior Marquis committed suicide once he was found out, but the family pretended he had been killed in a carriage accident. We let them, once Lucky had paid the reparations to wash away his father's guilt."

"All's I know is, the son is smarter than the father," the Count warned, scooting his chair to the side when his younger cousin Damien Spinelli, a mere Mister among their noble ranks, joined them at their table. "The most Luke did was attempt to embezzle the Crown at the height of his power as one of the members of Parliament. If Lucky is already collaborating with the French, he's got to be stopped immediately and made to pay for his high treason."

"I've been getting word that the French are planning to take the Curry Post," Spinelli felt compelled to add when the conversation drifted off. That was the nickname for one of the most valuable Indian port cities that was the current property of the Crown. "If it is indeed true, then Lucky Spencer most likely has a hand in it. According to the espionage network under my supervision, the French have been gloating to the Portuguese about an English official on the take. It may very well be the young Marquis."

"There's no way to know for sure," Jason growled, slamming his palm on the table. "If it is Lucky, he's disguised himself well by joining the War Office and pretending to serve England's interests through the art of espionage. Corrupt officials are easy to find; double agents are not. We've never had much luck with this sort of thing in the past."

"And that has cost England dearly," Ritchie was quick to remind him. "It all adds up, Jason. We are operating on strong suspicion that the culprit is indeed our very own Marquis of Rouge-Cadillac. If we can find the proof, we can bring him down and protect the Crown's investments overseas!"

Jason's brow furrowed as he considered the situation from every possible angle. It would be a dangerous mission: the Spencer family's reputation and honor had already been tainted by treasonous activities, and if they had reverted to old habits they would be doubly careful to cover their tracks. And that would make them doubly ruthless. If they were going to have any chance of catching Lucky Spencer in the act of conspiring with the French dogs, they'd have to go about it from the inside.

"Do we have a plan?"

Gianni nodded. "Spinelli has an idea."

"Well?"

The young man set down his scotch and spread his hands out on the rough wooden table as if visually laying out his battle plans. "The best way to do this is to obtain inside information on Lucky Spencer. If he is indeed a double agent with the War Office, the best way to know that is through the inner workings of the War Office."

"Contacts – do we have any?"

Their organization was extremely exclusive – so exclusive that most people doubted they existed – and they paid the price for that by having very few men in official positions that could help them when they needed it.

"No, but we can make one."

Jason's brows lifted. "How? Who?"

"Lord Robert Scorpio," Spinelli explained. "You remember him as an old friend of your family's. He has been with the War Office for almost thirty years now and operates under the codename Pegasus. He is the man who will help you."

"Does he know of the situation with Lucky?"

Gianni shook his head. "No, but he is one of very few men in the War Office that has been given classified information regarding the precarious state of affairs at the Curry Post. He knows that the French will make a move on it and he's agreed to go undercover there and thwart the attack, effective almost immediately."

Jason wasn't sure he understood. "If Robert will be in India, how will he be of use to us here?"

"He won't," Spinelli agreed, "but if his walls could talk, I'm sure they'd have quite a few tales to tell."

The plan was beginning to take shape in his mind. "I infiltrate Scorpio Manor and pose as Robert in correspondence to obtain the information we need on Lucky."

Gianni and Spinelli exchanged glances. "Well…almost. You've got the main idea right, but there's one thing you might not be aware of."

"That being?"

"You won't be alone in the manor when you infiltrate it."

"Servants and housekeepers have never deterred me in the past. I'm more than used to being discreet when I'm on assign-"

"Nor will your infiltration consist of one visit."

"If I have to make multiple visits, I'm sure I can accommodate-"

"Jason, you don't understand," Gianni sighed, waving at him to just sit still and listen. "I know you've worked with the Bureau for far longer than I have, and believe me, it causes me great consternation to have to advise you in this manner, but…"

"You're not going to be playing your spy role first," Spinelli cut in. "I know your modus operandi. You go in as an officer of the Bureau of British Security, and only employ your alibi if you run the risk of being caught. This time, your alibi will overshadow your identity as an officer of the Bureau."

Already he didn't like this. "Meaning?"

Gianni and Spinelli exchanged glances as Ritchie looked on, clearly amused. "Well…"

If they didn't tell him what the devil they were talking about in the next five minutes, by Lud, he'd shoot them both, the insufferable wet-behind-the-ears pups that they were.

Spinelli cleared his throat gruffly. "Er, you won't be entirely alone in the house, Jason."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "So you've said."

"And even though you know Robert fairly well from his days of friendship with your father, he'd never trust you to be in his house while he was not in attendance."

The green boys, they weren't telling him anything he didn't already know. "Is there a point?"

They both blinked when he snapped at them. "Uh…"

Jason rolled his eyes. God damn, if the Bureau didn't need every last man it had…

"Robert has a daughter," Spinelli blurted out, when it became clear that Jason was perilously close to violence. "He has a daughter and she is unwed, so she lives with him at Scorpio Manor."

He sat back in his seat and thought. "A daughter?"

Gianni nodded hesitantly. "Yes, Jason. He has a daughter of one and twenty named Elizabeth. You might remember her."

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth," he murmured, and then surprised all the men there by pulling a face as if he were a young boy again. "Oh, God, I remember her now. Impudent little chit. Used to steal my peppermints."

Spinelli, Ritchie, and Gianni all stared at him. Even Mitchell Coleman, the proprietor of Jake's who knew more than well enough to keep his mouth shut about the goings-on there, stopped polishing his barware and stared at Jason as if he'd sprouted a second head.

He gruffly cleared his throat and took a big gulp of his scotch, flicking his wrist at Gianni. "Go on."

Something akin to amusement – oh, it better not have been amusement – glittered in Gianni's dark brown eyes, but he forged on regardless. "Elizabeth lives with him in the house still. She's a smart girl, from what I hear, but I have reason to believe that she is not aware of her father's position in the War Office."

"She is not aware of it, no," Spinelli confirmed with a nod.

"She cannot manage the estate in his absence, so Robert is likely to ask the War Office to supply an accountant to manage his finances and his investments and make sure that his daughter is cared for."

"But he won't need to do that if you offer your services first," Spinelli pointed out. "Robert knows you, Jason. He knows your London persona. He already admires you for breaking away from your father when he hatched that scheme to sway the election results in Parliament. He also knows that you're very skilled when it comes to investments, and he'll consider himself lucky to have you managing his estates and enhancing his holdings."

Jason was beginning to nod. "Yes, that would be perfect. Being in charge of Robert's finances would allow me to access other personal information that can be used to discover what Lucky's actually up to and to what extent he's conspiring with the enemies of the Crown."

"There is still the matter of the girl," Ritchie reminded him, his glittering eyes belying his somber tone. "Do tell us more about her, Gianni."

The Italian Count bit his lip and braved a glance at Jason. "Well, it's like this, Jason. Robert won't hire you on as only the caretaker of his estate and finances. He's of the mind that his daughter hung the moon, and whoever takes care of his estate must also have her best interests at heart."

Jason's eyes widened as Ritchie hid a smirk. "…What are you saying?"

"Remember how we said that your alibi would have to overshadow your actual identity as an agent?" Spinelli gulped, feeling extremely grateful that he and Jason were separated by the width of the table.

"In this case, your alibi would be that of…baby-sitter."