Free Queen (Regency Refuge 3) by Heather Gray

the War Department."
    "How so?"
    "I went to school with Lysander. We didn't live in the same social strata, but he didn't like his father much, which was never more apparent than when he was in his cups."
    "What then?"
    "As soon as I completed school, I sought out the minister and asked to be a part of the War Department."
    Isabel swallowed a little laugh. "I would have loved to see that."
    Owen grimaced. "A finer put-down I've never been handed. He refused to consider me for work with the War Department and swore if I ever uttered the name of the agency again, he'd have me thrown in the Tower of London."
    "So what did you do?"
    "I hired out privately."
    Isabel sucked air in through her teeth until the bite of the cold made them hurt. "A mercenary?"
    Owen shook his head. "I never worked for anybody whose interests were contrary to England's. Despite his previous rejection, I still had hope the minister would consider me someday. Eventually a Russian prince hired me."
    She watched him through narrowed eyes. "What could a Russian prince want with an English hireling?"
    "A mercenary of sorts had killed his wife and unborn child. He wanted vengeance. He hired me to discover the killer's true identity."
    "And did you?"
    "My investigation led me to the War Department and a loyal English agent who had been sent to provide information to a foreign government, everything they would need to bring the killer to justice. The prince wanted me to make sure his wife's murderer rotted in jail. Death would be too swift a punishment, he felt. I followed the loyal agent after he left a meeting with those foreign officials one day."
    "Why follow him if he wasn't your assignment?"
    "A niggling suspicion that all was not well."
    "And?" Isabel was fully invested in the story now. All thought of analyzing Owen's words to determine his truthfulness had long since fled her mind.
    "I stayed back so I wouldn't be noticed. By the time I arrived on the scene, the loyal agent was losing consciousness, and the killer had his gun raised for one final shot. I fired my pistol at him, and he took off."
    "And the agent?"
    "He walks with a cane now, but he's alive."
    Isabel, who had unconsciously been leaning forward, pulled herself upright and tried to release the tension coiling through her middle. "All agents should be trained to defend themselves. Do they no longer do that?"
    Owen shrugged, but it looked forced. "He was trained. The assault was more than he could defend against. What about you? Were you trained to protect yourself?"
    She nodded. "An agent named Jackal helped train me. He made sure I knew how to defend myself. At the age of twelve I was fully trained in the many ways to incapacitate any man who might try to take liberties with me."
    "Did you ever need to use those skills?"
    "Thrice while I was at court. A few other times since." The color drained from Owen's moonlit face, and Isabel changed the subject. "You let the killer go in order to save that agent, then."
    He nodded. "The prince wasn't overly happy."
    "I'm surprised you've lived to tell the tale."
    "By the time I got the agent into the hands of someone who could treat his wounds, too much time had passed. I tried to follow the killer, but it was a wasted effort. As for the prince, I suppose he had his reasons for letting me live."
    "And you won't tell me what they are?"
    Owen shook his head and stood. Holding out his arm for her, he asked, "Shall we?"
    Isabel stood and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Lead the way."
    As they stepped out of the hut and began the trek back to the inn, numerous thoughts echoed through Isabel's mind. Once she forced it to calm, though, her mind picked the most peculiar one to settle on.
    Why did the prince let Owen live?

 
    Chapter Eleven
     
    Owen led Isabel back to the rock overhang and sent her on her way down the path. Then he gingerly made his way back to the inn. Hank left the side door open for him. The big man hadn't been too happy with