of his natural life while his son ruled the land as Regent.
Collis let out a gust of air. "I see. Well, it appears I will take that mission after all."
Dalton
's lips twitched, but Collis didn't think humor had anything to do with it. "I apologize for putting you in this position, Collis. To be truthful, it never occurred to me that you would find training objectionable, or that you would not do well."
Collis flinched at that, although he fancied he hid it well. He was getting bloody good at hiding.
Dalton
went on. "That said, I will add one thing. I am disappointed in you. You have so much potential, yet you persist in wasting your energies—"
"I tell you, last night was an accident!"
"I wasn't referring to your rivalry with Miss Lacey. Quite the opposite, in fact. If not for vying with Miss Lacey, you wouldn't have come as far as you have."
He pierced Collis with that damned unnerving silver stare. "A Liar needs passion—an obsession for espionage, if you will. So far, I have only seen that passion directed toward another student."
Collis blinked. "Passion for Rose? Are you mad?"
Dalton
did smile slightly then. "So much protest, Col. If I didn't know better, I'd call it…
passionate
."
Rose made her way into the spymaster's study. Although she knew where the room was, she'd never been in it before. It was an undeniably masculine room, as richly elegant as its occupant. She gave a silent whistle.
Posh
.
"The Wentworth file," his lordship had said. "On top of the pile on my desk."
The room was dark with the draperies drawn against the day's glare, doubtless to protect the carpet from fading. The desk was not to be missed, being large enough to double as a bed should the house ever run out of rooms. As if that were a possibility.
Even as she reached the desk and stretched out her hand to take the top file from the stack there, her toe hit the leg of the desk and she stumbled. She caught herself, but the files slithered apart, some going over the side of the desk and landing on the floor.
"Bloody rotten hell," she hissed. With a sigh, she knelt to the floor and gathered up the files.
She'd have to peek now, to find the right one. The names were written only on the documents inside. Quickly, for surely his lordship was waiting on her, she untwisted the short bit of string that looped the first file closed around a disk sewn on the front like a button. "Name, name, blast it, where's the name?"
She peered at the first page.
Jackham
. Oh, my. She'd heard tales about him. He'd run the business side of the club for years before betraying the Liars to the French. He was dead now, found floating in the
Thames
, recognizable only by his waistcoat. Apparently it didn't do to betray the Liars.
Curiosity made her fingers itch to take the page from the file, but she sternly repressed it. Clara had said to watch her step, and she would watch it.
She reached to open the next file.
Porter
. Another name with a tale attached. Poor Ren Porter, beaten nearly to death by Lady Winchell's thugs, suspected of being nigh crazed by the permanent damage done to his body and mind. The last Rose heard, he'd disappeared, possibly wandering mad through
England
.
Secret, these are secret, you nosy creature
! Oh, but what she wouldn't do to be spymaster and have all this lovely information at her fingertips!
She heard voices raised down the hall. She'd best get out there before Collis ruined his chances forever. She didn't for a moment believe he didn't care. She'd been beside him in class after class, session after session. He wanted to be a Liar nearly as bad as she did. If anything, he needed the Liars
more
.
Hurry. She grabbed the next file and fumbled at the string, then pulled the top sheet out a few inches.
W—
This was it. Wentworth. She stuffed the sheet back in, shoved the stack back into a pile more or less resembling the one it had been in, and scrambled for the door.
"Collis Tremayne, just shut it until I get back
Collis let out a gust of air. "I see. Well, it appears I will take that mission after all."
Dalton
's lips twitched, but Collis didn't think humor had anything to do with it. "I apologize for putting you in this position, Collis. To be truthful, it never occurred to me that you would find training objectionable, or that you would not do well."
Collis flinched at that, although he fancied he hid it well. He was getting bloody good at hiding.
Dalton
went on. "That said, I will add one thing. I am disappointed in you. You have so much potential, yet you persist in wasting your energies—"
"I tell you, last night was an accident!"
"I wasn't referring to your rivalry with Miss Lacey. Quite the opposite, in fact. If not for vying with Miss Lacey, you wouldn't have come as far as you have."
He pierced Collis with that damned unnerving silver stare. "A Liar needs passion—an obsession for espionage, if you will. So far, I have only seen that passion directed toward another student."
Collis blinked. "Passion for Rose? Are you mad?"
Dalton
did smile slightly then. "So much protest, Col. If I didn't know better, I'd call it…
passionate
."
Rose made her way into the spymaster's study. Although she knew where the room was, she'd never been in it before. It was an undeniably masculine room, as richly elegant as its occupant. She gave a silent whistle.
Posh
.
"The Wentworth file," his lordship had said. "On top of the pile on my desk."
The room was dark with the draperies drawn against the day's glare, doubtless to protect the carpet from fading. The desk was not to be missed, being large enough to double as a bed should the house ever run out of rooms. As if that were a possibility.
Even as she reached the desk and stretched out her hand to take the top file from the stack there, her toe hit the leg of the desk and she stumbled. She caught herself, but the files slithered apart, some going over the side of the desk and landing on the floor.
"Bloody rotten hell," she hissed. With a sigh, she knelt to the floor and gathered up the files.
She'd have to peek now, to find the right one. The names were written only on the documents inside. Quickly, for surely his lordship was waiting on her, she untwisted the short bit of string that looped the first file closed around a disk sewn on the front like a button. "Name, name, blast it, where's the name?"
She peered at the first page.
Jackham
. Oh, my. She'd heard tales about him. He'd run the business side of the club for years before betraying the Liars to the French. He was dead now, found floating in the
Thames
, recognizable only by his waistcoat. Apparently it didn't do to betray the Liars.
Curiosity made her fingers itch to take the page from the file, but she sternly repressed it. Clara had said to watch her step, and she would watch it.
She reached to open the next file.
Porter
. Another name with a tale attached. Poor Ren Porter, beaten nearly to death by Lady Winchell's thugs, suspected of being nigh crazed by the permanent damage done to his body and mind. The last Rose heard, he'd disappeared, possibly wandering mad through
England
.
Secret, these are secret, you nosy creature
! Oh, but what she wouldn't do to be spymaster and have all this lovely information at her fingertips!
She heard voices raised down the hall. She'd best get out there before Collis ruined his chances forever. She didn't for a moment believe he didn't care. She'd been beside him in class after class, session after session. He wanted to be a Liar nearly as bad as she did. If anything, he needed the Liars
more
.
Hurry. She grabbed the next file and fumbled at the string, then pulled the top sheet out a few inches.
W—
This was it. Wentworth. She stuffed the sheet back in, shoved the stack back into a pile more or less resembling the one it had been in, and scrambled for the door.
"Collis Tremayne, just shut it until I get back
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