Regency Rogues Omnibus (80 page)

“Former spies, Miss Montoya. The monarch’s own. Six of us, Brynmore included.”

Kit was unsure what her thoughts about these friends of Brynmore’s might be. As accomplished as Brynmore, surely. But, spies? She had hit the jackpot. It caused her to sit straighter in her chair, since it also occurred to her what would be Lord Kittridge’s next parry in trying to eliminate her. For once, she was thankful for being her father’s daughter. For learning so much about powerful men at his knee that she could intellectually hold her own in the presence of what she was certain she would discover was Lord Kittridge’s extraordinary mind. However, she did allow him the lead before the fall, and entrapment, by letting him expound without interrupting him.

“So you can see all of your concerns about The Order of the Satyr and your brother’s whereabouts will be well met and dealt with by professionals. I can assure that I would keep you informed and I will put finding your brother on the top of my priorities.”

“My brother is dead.” Kit allowed no muscles to move in her facial expression as she stared at Lord Kittridge. She also noted on some level that this revelation did not surprise him.

“I see,” Lord Kittridge murmured. “So your intentions have changed.”

Kit gripped her gloved fingers together. “They have and I come bearing leverage of something quite weighty that you will want to see ... if we come to an agreement.”

“Proof of your brother’s death?” Lord Kittridge half asked, half astutely stated.

“Proof of his and many others. However, the proof that theirs was murder, as you and I know it was, might or might not be proven in an expert’s hands, which I’m sure you have access to.”

Drummond looked at Kit Montoya. He could easily tell that her proof of the many murders The Order had committed was irrelevant. It was the truth, but it would be impossible to prove who did the murders without straight confessions. The fact that a person or people within The Order had committed murders was heinous. The murderers themselves, one of many reasons to destroy The Order and in some form eliminate its major leaders. Nevertheless, the fact of the murders themselves and proof thereof, would not be the nail in the coffin that destroyed The Order.

Lawful men would attempt that route, to try to prove the murders and hang those guilty. He also entertained the idea, until he realized that it was worthless and he was grateful that he and his companions had no hesitations about being unlawful. Drummond knew he could tell Miss Montoya all this. Take away the leverage that she perceived she had. He could try to dissuade her with words, with threats. However, after meeting her, seeing her, reading her, he now had the information about her that he needed. Because he knew, this side of kidnapping her and locking her up, she was not going to stop doing everything in her power to eradicate The Order.

And that was exactly what he needed.

A woman who was unknown to The Orders participants and with an impetus to shed most of her self-preservation instincts for the higher goal of destroying The Order. The personal sacrifices this woman would have to make would be unthinkable to most women and he regretted the need for them. Be that as it may, he also knew Kit Montoya would do so with or without the Archangels collaborations. What price was revenge worth? What value could be placed upon allowing The Order to continue on its merry, murderous, and perverted way? High! As high as the goals of men.

“I will not dissuade you, Miss Montoya, but offer to use you.”

Kit’s fine eyebrows arched as she gazed at him through steady, but dark and dusky blue irises. A thought occurred to him that this American woman’s entire social upbringing might bring many surprising qualities, far different than the normal English ladies with whom he was more accustomed.

“I want them destroyed, Lord Kittridge. Use me,” Kit answered succinctly.

Chapter Three

Brynmore watched Drummond’s fingers tap the small table beside his chair. There had been extra chairs brought into the Kittridge library to accommodate all eleven people gathered, which included the six Archangels and their five women.

Brynmore had arrived from St. Petersburg last night after finding and doing surveillance on The Orders former, from all appearances, money man, Lord Incubus, who was now living under another fictitious name and title, Lord Markus Zurfoff. It seemed Incubus-Remior-Zurkoff had picked up the identity of a Russian Count this time and he was keeping a subdued public persona at the moment, almost sedate.

Through observing him, Brynmore had come to the opinion that Incubus was hiding and that meant to Brynmore that Incubus was afraid of something. The logical conclusion was that Incubus was afraid of Hellion’s wrath. Deadly wrath, Brynmore wagered and he hoped the blackguard Incubus strangled on his terror.

Still, he was glad to be back in England, at the center of the investigation again. It appeared events were on the move. He’d already ribbed each of his male companions for their inability to keep their women out of this, before they’d gathered in the library. He did not take a chair, but stood leaning against the end of a bookcase, whose size reached well over his head to the ceiling. The ladies were all dressed in somber, businesslike attire, leaving behind the lace and bouffant frills along with no intimate cuddling, hand holding or lap snuggling with their men. They were deadly serious about this and he was glad to see it. Yet, for some reason, he had a strange, odd-man-out, feeling. They were all couples, he realized, and since Saxon’s return with his new lady, Joelle, making them a couple, they had never been gathered like this. Brynmore shifted his shoulder against the end of the bookcase — his single status seemed to glare at him.

What he did not understand was why this nagged him now, with so many dangerous adventures hovering. However, gazes between couples and the looks where one knew, they were reading each other’s thoughts all pushed his mind to think of Kit. Brynmore held back his growl of irritation. Kit, who was married ... married and mentally stomped upon by that worthless husband of hers. But at least, he thought, he’d been able to keep her out of this, unlike the weaker showing of his friends.

“Patience is going to be our code name for this mission.” Drummond said suddenly, breaking the quiet, but expectant waiting. “We have found our prey, gathered information. Large amounts of intelligence coming from Yojo, the half angel, half devil. He is the former or perhaps not former cohort of The Order and its leaders.” Drummond paused, tapping his fingers again, looking around the room at them. “Nonetheless, we have not reached one tenth of the information we need to devise a plan. I will, however, tell you several things our future plans will have. There will be no authorities involved, save perhaps for one, and then only for the express purpose of enlightening the authorities who protect the population that a mass murderer was among us.”

Drummond paused again and with the first overt showing of affection in the room, he clasped his wife’s, Gabriella’s hand, who sat beside him, then he continued. “This plan will involve no assassinations. We, my friends, are going to stretch ourselves to move beyond that which is no longer appropriate in our lives.”

There were quiet murmurs of agreement around the room and Brynmore saw Chloe’s hand reach to Harrison’s shoulder. Harrison stood with his head bowed. There was an undercurrent of something Brynmore could feel, but could not quite identify. Then, he remembered the last meeting he had attended with Harrison, where Harrison had been so stoic, as stoic as Harrison had been before Chloe came into his life.

Brynmore realized suddenly how much they all had changed. Each man had fallen in love and found the woman they could barely dream existed. He was happy for them all. The snide and unaffected-by-love part of him, however, began to wonder if these men still had what it took to get a dangerous mission such as this accomplished.

“Also,” Drummond continued. “As we have all individually agreed upon Radford will stay apart of this mission.” Drummond turned his gaze to Radford. “I will need your mind extensively for this, Radford, if we are to accomplish our goal.”

Radford nodded without words, quite unusual for him and the feeling of change once again swamped Brynmore for a moment. He disliked seeing his friend so subdued and he vowed to do all in his power to help Radford feel part of the Archangels as he’d always been. Going blind or not, the man was a valuable asset they could not do without, and as far as friendship went, there was no question in that.

“Then, in that vein, before we get onto the meat of why we are gathered here, Radford, what ideas have you come up with to deal with Yojo?”

“From Joelle we have discovered that Yojo has an affinity for and love of animals,” Radford said. “You remember that ex-spy, Meramoth? He has a rather extensive menagerie on his estate in Cornwall. I thought with Joelle’s encouragement that her friend’s zoo needs Yojo’s help. We could cache Yojo there, out of the way. It is close enough if we find need for him. Added to that idea, I have already begun to search for any of Yojo’s family still alive in Prussia. A further incentive to bind Yojo to our cause and perhaps keep him out of trouble without physically imprisoning him.”

“Excellent,” Drummond said.

Joelle agreed, saying, “Perfect, Radford, really. We might show Yojo a new life.”

“Or remind him of an old one,” Radford said.

“Exactly.” Joelle punctuated her response with a smile.

“Now,” Drummond began again, taking up the leadership. “Our mission staging area will be here. We have given over our ballroom to the effort. That is where you will bring information of the smallest matter to Radford and Nia.” Drummond turned and nodded toward the couple. “Our first order of business is unfortunately messy. It will be personally uncomfortable for the two recipients that will have to move undercover to infiltrate and become intimate with The Order and it members residing, now, here in England.”

A murmur went around the room and Brynmore wondered how many had expected this and the full impact of it. He had not, until this moment. He was the foot soldier of the group, along with Saxon and others stepping in at times when needed. He did surveillance, reconnaissance, and yes infiltrations at times. He was intuitive and in control of any particular piece of a mission they assigned to him. However, everyone depended on Drummond for the overall and outward view of where an operation was constantly evolving. And just lately, his concentration was on Incubus and not thinking ahead.

So, Brynmore was just now realizing the full implications of what Drummond was saying, as were the others. Brynmore paused in concentration and in only a few moments he calculated the high moral and personal risks this was going to involve. The Order was a cesspool of sexual depravity. Anyone trying to infiltrate into its folds was going to have to act as perverted. A woman trying to enter The Order would be extremely vulnerable to sexually explicit abuse. He knew he sure as bloody hell was not going to allow any woman in this room to do it!

“I’ll
go
,” Brynmore announced loudly, so there was no mistake anyone did not hear him. “Tis obvious,” he added, still leaning against the bookcase as if it were just another lazy day. He used his unaffected posture for all he was worth.

“Not so obvious,” Wyndham casually retorted.

“Aye, it is. I’ll have me one bonny torrid little romp to remember my wild times when I’m old and rickety,” Brynmore said, winking. “Looking forward to some of that tawdry tomfoolery, I’ve been missing.”

“You will need a woman,” Wyndham said, against Brynmore’s bravado, which Brynmore was not certain had fooled anyone. “Each of us has those available,” Wyndham finished.

“I dinna see the need of a lass. I can do fine on me own ... and, I’m certain there are many married men attending The Orders depraved gatherings without their wives. Single men too,” Brynmore countered, lifting his shoulder from the wall to cross his arms over his chest.

“It would be unwise to send a lone person undercover for this venture. The risks are too high going in alone, not to go in without backup,” Drummond stated.

Brynmore knew then that two were going in. No one questioned Drummond’s reasons. He was brilliant at what he did, and truth be known, they’d never set up an undercover operation with only one person. It was a type of unspoken rule of safety, not broken until Wyndham had gone into Valcourt alone to help Orelan escape the clutches of Alexei Tropov’s. Brynmore knew he could argue that point all night against Drummond’s opinion and in the end, Drummond’s decisions would win out. Drummond would not do this lightly, he knew the personal sacrifice.

“So unless it were two men,” Drummond continued, breaking Brynmore’s thoughts. “Which, I see as appearing too suspicious looking.”

Still, Brynmore did not realize the concern and fear for his friends and their relationships that he felt, until he found himself heatedly blurting, “You cannot mean to send any of you couples in!” It came forth like an accusation, said as though he thought Drummond was crazed. “I’ll get a tart to pose!”
Bloody balls.
Brynmore’s gaze swept to Nia. He’d not meant to say that. She’d been a lady of the night once, but he’d not meant it that way.

“We’ll go!” Joelle exclaimed. “We will... well, we’ll disguise ourselves. Right, Saxon?” Joelle turned to Saxon. “We know best how to keep safe...” Joelle’s voice faded off.