Page 80 of Against the Wind

“I daresay it will take you a while to become accustomed to Town once again,” her companion offered.

“It would be pleasant to have some time with Martin before he is swept into matters of business,” Kit said wistfully.

“Knowing what I do of your husband, Kit, and how very much in love with you he is, I expect you will see much of him despite the Powell family’s tug upon his time.”

“I do hope you are right,” Kit said. “We’ve grown so close.”

Ormond handed a glass of brandy to Martin and John as they sat conversing in the marquess’s London study. “Mary and I are eager to have you and your bride stay with us for a while, Martin. Can you not spare a week or two?”

Seeing the hope of a positive response on his friend’s face, Martin was reluctant to decline the invitation. “We’ll not be here that long, Ormond. I’ve planned a wedding trip that I’m anxious to begin.” Truth be told, though they had returned only a day ago he was anxious to leave immediately. He wanted his kitten all to himself.

“I suppose that should come first,” Ormond replied grudgingly. “At least your business for Prinny is done. By the by, how did your meeting with him go today?”

“My wife will be pleased,” said Martin. “The Prince Regent agreed to commute Weightman’s sentence to transportation if he’s convicted, as he is sure to be after it is known he led the rebels halfway to Nottingham.”

“I expect the trial in Derby will be nothing more than the government’s scripted play,” Ormond said from where he perched on the edge of his desk.

“Some of the Derbyshire men will certainly hang, Brandreth foremost among them,” Martin acknowledged with a frown. “Particularly after his slaying of the Widow Hepworth’s servant. The government is intent on assuring there will be no more revolutions in England.”

“A sorry way they went about it,” Ormond muttered.

Martin nodded and took another sip of his brandy, happy to have left the alehouses of Derbyshire behind him. “A sad chapter in our history, indeed.”

“By the by,” said Ormond, “Hart sends his regards and says he is planning a trip to London. Are you certain I cannot persuade you and Lady Powell to linger for his visit?”

“No, though perhaps when we return—”

“My wife will be most anxious to know just where it is you are sweeping her friend to. I trust you will disclose that bit of information, won’t you?”

“No, I don’t think I shall,” Martin said with a smile. “Only that it involves a ship.”

“A ship?” said John, face agleam.

“Neither of you are to say one word to my wife until I’ve told her of my plans.”

The two others nodded.

“So, John, you are interested in going to sea?” asked Martin.

“Aye. I am, sir.”

“Well, then. I believe I can arrange for you to crew on one of the Powell ships—say, mine perhaps?”

“’Tis certain I would like that, sir.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Ormond interjected with a sigh. “Hart said in his letter he’s seen the Leeds Mercury article on the Pentridge affair. Apparently it’s a rather scathing indictment of Oliver, whom he asserts plainly was a government spy. He cites a printer named Willan as saying Oliver tried to recruit him to the cause. Now that I think of it, with that article published, perhaps it would be best after all if you were not in London. Questions might arise as to the Frenchman Donet.”

Martin perked up. “Save that article for our return, if you will. I am certain Kit and I will want to read it. Some of her drawings may even be featured, though Baines assured me there would be no attribution.”

A knock sounded on the door, followed by Lady Ormond poking in her head. “If you gentlemen can be pried from your brandy, dinner is about to be served and Kit and I are starving!”

“The mother of my child calls,” said Ormond, setting down his glass and walking toward his wife. “We were just about to join you, sweetheart.”

Over dinner, Lady Ormond excitedly told them of her day shopping with Kit. Martin was pleased his wife could spend time with her friend before they left London, and he was delighted to see her again wearing gowns that befitted her station after the simpler clothing she’d worn in the Midlands. The emerald silk she wore tonight with the amber and pearl necklace he’d given her complemented her auburn hair sparkling in the candlelight.

“Kit has told me all that happened in the Midlands, Martin,” said Lady Ormond. “Well, most of it. I was not surprised to hear you’d kept your work for the Crown to yourself. You spies are all alike,” she said, giving her husband a side glance. “And that highway attack…it must have been frightening!”

“Actually,” Martin said, smiling at Kit who, he was pleased to see, had the cabochon ruby ring back on her finger, “my wife was very calm through that episode. Told me I was amazing, as I recall.” He grinned mischievously at Kit across the table. Inwardly he’d been proud of her in return. Most females would have whimpered and swooned at the pistol-fire and blood.