Page 76 of After the Spy Seduces

Garrett Morgan didn’t move a muscle or a give a single twitch of his facial expression, but Kit sensed a change in him. A hardening. The same way a lion would tense when it saw its prey.

Or the same way the prey would when it saw the lion.

“Carlisle.”

“Morgan,” Kit answered, his face held carefully inscrutable as he stopped in his steps, when what he wanted to do was leap over that table and grab the bastard by the throat.

The men who had been arguing fell silent and exchanged looks as they glanced between the two of them. One reached a hand slowly beneath his jacket for a weapon, but he was smart enough not to withdraw it.

“You’ve arrived.” Morgan raked an assessing gaze over Kit, head to toe. “Good.”

He drawled, “How could I have refused such a gracious invitation?”

Morgan’s mouth twisted, but he never moved his gaze from Kit. Not even when he turned his head slightly to address the others. “Leave us.”

The men complied, casting curious glances back at Kit as they shuffled down the stairs. They knew who he was. There was no mistaking the way he and Morgan had squared off across the room.

“So.” Kit hit right at the crux. “You’re a double agent.”

“And you’ve gone rogue.” He slid another gaze over Kit, this time more deliberate. “You’ll be dead in three days.”

“You’ll be dead sooner if you’ve done anything to harm Diana or Meri.”

The icy threat hung in the air between them for a long beat before Morgan answered, “I would never do anything to harm them.” Determination underpinned his voice. “I’m here to save them.”

Kit stepped forward, his eyes narrowed on Diana’s brother. How could this man be Garrett Morgan? He knew Morgan from before Fitch’s death. Had seen his weak attempts at gambling, drinking, and whoring in London, had heard his excuses for everything that had gone wrong in his life. Especially the blame he’d heaped upon the general for being an unforgiving father who expected too much from his only son.

This man wasn’t the Garrett Morgan he knew.

He stood tall, straight, and solid, with his shoulders broad in his shirtsleeves as he crossed his arms over his chest in a casual pose that belied the tension crackling between them. Not a trace of weakness was visible anywhere in him, right down to the steely stare of his eyes.Thiswasn’t a man who was a failure.

Apparently, nothing was as it seemed.

“Explain,” Kit ordered, stopping in front of the makeshift table.

“This all began years ago.” Morgan reached into his waistcoat and withdrew a small book. The general’s diary. He tossed it onto the table in front of Kit. “You’re just the most recent player to join the game.”

He placed his palms on the board, ignoring the diary as he bracketed it between his hands and leaned toward Morgan. He repeated in a low growl, “Explain.”

“I was twenty-two, out of the army and hating university. My family had just returned from India and set up household at Idlewild when I was approached by the Foreign Office. A story similar to yours, I understand.” Kit’s inscrutable expression never changed at that, but Morgan answered the unasked question, “Of course I researched you. The moment I heard that you were at the tavern the night of the failed exchange I knew you were more than simply an earl’s wastrel brother.”

Ignoring that, Kit demanded, “Why did they want you? The Foreign Office isn’t in the habit of recruiting untried men. And failed soldiers.”

“Ididleave the army, but not for the reason you think. I wanted to make my own mark, but in the ranks, I was only General Thaddeus ‘Never Surrender’ Morgan’s son. There was no way to prove myself there. But there was with Whitehall, even if I had to keep my work secret until the mission was completed.”

“What mission?”

“Whitehall had heard that a British army officer was selling military information and War Department secrets. Because of my father’s rank and influence, I had access to army officers at all levels, in all assignments. So I spent two years tracking down the leak.” He grimaced. “Imagine my surprise to find the man right in my own household.”

Kit knew… “Paxton.”

“Yes.”

He shoved himself away from the table and straightened to his full height. “But he’s still in place, still working with the general. Why?”

“Once the Foreign Office knew what Paxton was doing, the decision was made to feed him false information that he could pass along to the French. More good could be done that way than by hanging him.”

Suspicion tingled at the backs of Kit’s knees. “You were doing more than simply reporting back on Paxton. You’re actively involved with the French. They think you work for them.”