A Dangerous Pursuit (Regency Spies & Secrets Book 1), Laura Beers [romantic books to read TXT] 📗

Corbyn’s hands stilled. “I am changing.”

“I can see that, but why?”

“I have an appointment in the rookeries,” Corbyn explained.

“Pray tell, why didn’t you change before you got into my coach?”

Corbyn removed his waistcoat and placed it on the bench. “I’m afraid I didn’t have the time, and I needed to speak to you.” He shrugged on his jacket and shared, “I had my valet design my jackets to be worn on either side.”

“That is rather ingenious.”

“I thought so, as well,” Corbyn remarked as he reached up and tousled his brown hair.

Baldwin found himself curious and asked, “Who are you meeting?”

A smile came to Corbyn’s lips. “I do not reveal my informants.”

“But why you?” Baldwin asked. “Why not assign an agent to meet with this informant?”

“I enjoy getting out into the field every so often, and this is my informant.” Corbyn had been folding his waistcoat into a small square and now stuffed it into one of his pockets.

Baldwin glanced out the window as the wheel of the coach hit a rut in the cobblestone street. “Isn’t that taking an unnecessary risk?”

“Not for me.”

Bringing his gaze back to meet Corbyn’s, Baldwin said, “I want your help with finding the missing girls.” Corbyn opened his mouth, no doubt to object, so Baldwin hurried on. “You owe me one.”

Corbyn gave him a skeptical look. “You are truly calling in your favor for Miss Dowding’s sake?”

“I am.”

“Fine,” Corbyn responded with a deep sigh. “I will send out some inquiries amongst the agents, but I can’t promise anything.”

“Thank you.”

Corbyn hit the top of the roof with his fist and the coach began to slow down. “This is where I get out,” he stated as he reached for the handle. “I will expect to see you in my office tomorrow morning. I want to be briefed on the progress of your assignment.”

Baldwin winced. “It hasn’t progressed as quickly as I would have liked.”

The coach came to a halt, and Corbyn opened the door. “You have all night to find something,” he noted in a stern voice. “Don’t let me down.”

After Corbyn closed the door, Baldwin watched as he disappeared down a darkened alleyway. He thought briefly about following his friend, but he decided that would be a foolhardy thing to do. Corbyn was almost as good a spy as he was… almost. Although, it came as no big surprise when he learned that Corbyn had been promoted to the head of the agency at the Alien Office. He was exactly the type of leader the agents needed to rally around.

It wasn’t long before the coach stopped in front of Floyd’s Coffeehouse. He exited the coach and entered the building in a few strides. His eyes scanned the room as he looked for Sarah. When he didn’t see her, he took a seat at a table in the corner.

A thin, blonde woman approached him with empty cups in her hands. “What can I get you, Mister?”

“Just some coffee.”

“If you want something to eat, I can recommend the mutton stew,” she suggested.

Reaching into his pocket, Baldwin pulled out a coin and slid it across the table. “Just coffee for me.”

The woman reached for the coin and said, “I will be back shortly.”

Baldwin placed his arms onto the table and leaned forward as he tried to listen to the conversations going on around him. Nothing he heard was cause for any great alarm, just the usual conversations that he would expect to find in a coffeehouse.

The serving woman walked up to the table and placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” he said, placing his hands around the warm cup.

She looked curiously at him. “You must be the bloke that Sarah told me about.”

“She talked about me?”

Glancing over her shoulder, the woman lowered her voice. “She said you were asking a bunch of questions the last time you were here.”

“I am just trying to find some like-minded individuals, such as myself.”

She seemed unconvinced, but she bobbed her head. “Let me know if you need my help.”

Baldwin watched as the woman walked towards a group of three young men who were hurling their words about. As she reached for their empty cups, one of the men eyed her backside lewdly.

The woman didn’t seem to pay it any heed and quickly moved on to another table.

He watched as one of the men pulled out a bottle from his jacket pocket and poured the contents into his cup. Then, he passed the bottle to another person at his table.

Baldwin shook his head at the young men. It was only a matter of time until they were kicked out of the coffeehouse for their rowdy behavior, since alcohol was generally banned from reputable establishments.

Reaching for his cup, Baldwin was about to take a sip when he heard one of the young men say, “I wonder if the boss would want her.”

Another young man with a large forehead swiped at his arm. “I doubt it. She is old,” he said, slurring his words.

“How old do you suppose she is?”

“I don’t know, but she is at least thirty.”

The young man whistled. “She doesn’t look too bad for her age.”

Baldwin followed their gaze and realized they were making the disparaging comments about the woman who had served him.

The young men returned their attention to one another, keeping themselves hunched over their drinks. They weren’t dressed in the finest apparel, but they were dressed in the latest fashion. Their boots had scuff marks on them, implying they did not care for them as they should. Which also meant that they did not employ a valet, or at the very most, a terrible one.

Finding himself curious by the conversation he had overheard, he rose from his seat and approached the table where the young men were situated. He sat down on an empty chair and placed his cup on the table.

All the young men’s eyes were on him. “That seat is taken, mate,” one of