Read Online Behind the Marquess's Mask (The Lords of Whitehall Book 1) by Kristen McLean - Free Book Online

have lost the first in the mess of papers and poured another, twice.
    Grey plopped down into a chair facing the desk and relaxed deeply into it.
    “No assassination, exactly. There’s a situation with one of our own,” the older man muttered down toward the papers under his nose. “They had a nasty accident.”
    “They know the risks when they join the ranks,” Grey said casually, though his chest tightened painfully. “It’s war whether the world sees it or not. There’s no glory or job well done. There’s rarely room for mistakes and second chances. That’s just the way of it.” Grey felt his hand flex around the snifter, and he stretched his legs, fixating on relaxing his muscles.
    “I cannot accept that, lad. Not this time,” Matthews said, shaking his head. “Something has to be done.”
    Grey was stoically silent as he watched sweat bead over Matthews’s forehead. “Do we not have a protocol in place for this kind of threat?” he asked offhandedly. “ Your protocol, I might add. Send the man away and me in to remove the threat. Then reassign the bungler—if you dare.”
    Matthews scoffed.
    Grey took another drink from his glass. “Or at the least, put him in a country cottage and give him back his life. He’s a liability and would be much better off quitting this business. Better for him and better for us by a damn sight.”
    “Impossible. The attack nearly killed her, but she survived,” Matthews muttered with a scowl. “Her memory was not so fortunate. She has no idea about any of this.”
    “All the more reason to leave her be. Her loss of memory is a gift. If she…” Grey trailed off with a knit brow. He set down the snifter and began flexing his hand into his thigh to avoid shattering the glass.
    Matthews shook his head despairingly. “She will not stand a chance without protection. She won’t even see them coming. Even if she could remember, she was never trained for this sort of thing.”
    “Matthews,” Grey asked hesitantly, “you didn’t employ a girl , did you?”
    “Not just a girl,” Matthews muttered. “Grenville’s daughter.”
    Grey stared unbelievingly at the older man, calmly ignoring the deafening pounding in his ears. “ Whose daughter?”
    “She wasn’t meant to be involved in anything dangerous, just gossip,” he insisted. “Nonetheless, she got her hands on something which seemed entirely insignificant. I still don’t understand why it happened.”
    “It happened,” Grey ground out irritably, “because she’s an innocent girl, and you put her in the company of men who kill people!”
    “How many of our men have been attacked in London, Grey? It’s just not done.”
    “Look at me, Matthews,” Grey said, his voice raised. “ I am in London! How many men have I killed?”
    “Men!” Matthews shot back. “You have killed men!”
    “And you thought she would be safe because she’s a woman?” Grey asked incredulously.
    “Yes!”
    “Poppycock!” Grey shouted angrily. He glared dangerously at the director from across the desk before he forced himself to calm down.
    Matthews couldn’t understand the responsibility Grey felt. He didn’t know about Grenville’s request and the debt Grey owed.
    “We have both seen what our enemies can do to a body,” Grey said then paused for a deep, steadying breath. “And we both know what happened to Kathryn was not out of the realm of possibility, nor was it the worst scenario, but that hardly matters now. What’s done is done.”
    Matthews nodded grimly. “It is. I am glad you see it. Now, I want you to—”
    “Oh, no,” Grey interrupted with a grim chuckle. “This is your error, Matthews. You may have the pleasure of explaining to Grenville how you managed to employ and endanger his daughter. I shall have none of it except to hunt down the bastard who raised his hand to her. That, I shall gladly do.”
    “I am afraid there’s more to it than that, Ainsley,” another voice broke in on their