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

“That is a shame, because I was hoping to buy you all a cup of coffee,” Baldwin responded.

They exchanged glances before a dark-haired young man smiled broadly. “Well, you should have led with that, Mister.”

Baldwin chuckled. “Next time I will.” He caught the eye of the serving woman and motioned her over. “Can I get a round of coffee for my new friends?”

The woman nodded her head. “As you wish.”

He turned his attention back towards the men. “She is quite beautiful,” he commented.

“That’s what I said earlier,” the dark-haired man remarked, his eyes red-lined.

The man with the large forehead spoke up. “You just want to bed her.”

“That is true.”

The last young man had curly brown hair that hung low over his forehead. “What is your name?” he asked.

“Baldwin,” he replied simply.

The young man tipped his head. “I’m Edgar.”

“Just call me Sam,” the dark-haired one said.

Baldwin turned his gaze towards the last man, who had the large forehead. “And you are?”

“My name is Paul.”

“It is nice to meet you,” Baldwin said. “I just got released from the Royal Navy a few weeks back, and I moved to Town to find some work.”

They all scoffed before Edgar declared, “You moved to the wrong place.”

“Why do you say that?” Baldwin asked innocently.

“There ain’t enough work to go around here,” Sam declared, leaning back in his chair. “People are trying to make ends meet by stealing and swindling people.”

“Is that how you three are making money?” Baldwin inquired.

They grew silent. “We got ourselves nice jobs,” Paul finally admitted.

“Which are?”

“Can’t say,” Paul replied, “but the pay is real good.”

Baldwin bobbed his head. “I can respect that,” he said.

The serving woman walked up with a tray and placed a new cup of coffee in front of each of them. “Will there be anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Baldwin said as he handed her a coin, then reached for his cup.

Sam watched him curiously. “You mentioned you were in the Royal Navy.”

“I was,” Baldwin huffed, “but that hasn’t helped me find any work. I have been scrambling about trying to find a purpose in my life.”

Edgar pulled out the bottle from his pocket. “Want to add a little brandy to your coffee?”

Baldwin smiled as he put his hand out to accept it. “How did you smuggle that in?” he asked, pouring a small amount into his coffee.

“The owner of the establishment don’t care as long as we keep on paying,” Sam said loudly as he reached for the bottle.

Paul put his finger up to his lips. “Why are you talking so loud?”

“I’m not,” Sam argued.

Baldwin kept his face expressionless, but it was evident that these men were heavily inebriated, which was a good thing for him. People’s defenses were generally down when they’d had too much to drink.

Leaning forward, Baldwin said, “You all appear to be exceptionally clever men.”

Edgar bobbed his head in agreement. “We are.”

“I thought so,” Baldwin replied, glancing over his shoulder. “I am looking for a group of free thinkers.”

“That is what we are,” Sam declared, straightening in his chair.

Baldwin clenched his fist and pounded it onto the table, causing the young men to jump in their seats. “That is good, because I want to join the fight against tyranny. I want to fight for the people’s rights.”

Edgar lifted his brow. “You look like you would be good at fighting,” he said.

“I fought in the Royal Navy for ten years, and I have nothing to show for it,” Baldwin stated. “It is time to do something for myself.”

Sam watched him as he gently bobbed his head. “We can help you with that, but it might be dangerous.”

“I don’t mind living dangerously,” Baldwin said. “I lived that way every day I was in the Royal Navy, never knowing if the next battle was to be my last.”

Paul leaned forward and lowered his voice. “We have a meeting tomorrow night at the Blue Boar on Whitechapel Street at ten. You should join us.”

“The Blue Boar?” Baldwin repeated.

“We meet in the back room,” Paul shared, bringing his finger up to his lips, “but you mustn’t tell anyone.”

Baldwin nodded. “I understand.”

“That is good,” Sam said in a low voice, “because Morton will kill you if you talk.”

“Then I don’t want to make this Morton fellow mad,” Baldwin replied with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood of the group.

Sam let out a bark of laughter before saying, “No, you most assuredly don’t.”

Baldwin reached for his cup and slowly took a sip. He was grateful that he finally had a lead on a radical group. It may not be the one that he was seeking, but it was a good start.

Madalene let out a sigh as she reviewed the orphanage’s ledgers at Edith’s desk. She had always been good with numbers, but this was proving to be an impossible feat.

Mrs. Foster spoke up from an upholstered chair near the fireplace, where she was engaged in needlework. “Whatever is wrong?”

“Once Edith returns home, I am going to hire a bookkeeper to manage her ledgers.”

“Why do you say that, dear?”

Madalene gestured towards the ledgers. “I don’t know how she has time to balance these books and still be headmistress.”

“She seems to do so splendidly.”

“That she does,” Madalene agreed, leaning back in her chair. “What am I going to do if Lord Hawthorne doesn’t find Edith?”

“You mustn’t think that way,” Mrs. Foster chastised.

“I know, but it has been days and there has been no word from Edith’s captors.”

Mrs. Foster lowered the needlework to her lap. “It isn’t like you to give up hope so easily,” she replied.

“True, but I find Lord Hawthorne’s words keep echoing in my mind,” Madalene said. “He is quite the naysayer.”

“Maybe the constable has a lead on the case?”

“Perhaps,” Madalene replied, unconvinced.

“Or Lord Hawthorne could have uncovered something useful?”

Madalene gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “I suppose that could be the case,” she replied. “Although, I hope my trust in him isn’t misguided.”

“He is only a marquess.” Mrs. Foster pressed her lips together. “But I