sometimes feel the need for change myself.”
“So you say you’ve given two parties recently?”
“I have. Big ones too. My father would roll over in his grave if he saw the debts I’ve racked up.”
“Thank God you’re not the spendthrift he was. The ton would have missed many lively amusements otherwise.”
“I’m glad to be of service.” Langley studied him for a moment and then continued.
“You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” Rhys nodded. “I saw someone at my uncle’s ball last night, a man I thought I recognized. Something about him bothered me, and I need to find out who he is.”
“There were a few new participants at a card evening I hosted two nights ago. What does he look like?”
“He’s a few inches shorter than you. Stout. Brown hair, rather flat features. Crooked nose, but his most distinctive feature is an eye patch.” Langley nodded. “I’ve seen him. He came to the party but kept to himself.
Something about him unnerved me too. He acted as if we’d never met, but I felt like I should know him. He claimed this was his first visit to London.”
“Where is he from?”
“Paris, or so he claims.”
Rhys nodded.
Langley’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what you were after, wasn’t it? You haven’t been around, because you’ve returned to your old profession.” Rhys hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to know he was working for the government again, even someone who’d worked with him before.
Langley smiled. “Never mind, I shouldn’t pry.” Rhys felt his tension dissipate. “What else do you know about this?”
“He is going by the name Andreas Mouton. If I have met him before, he did not use that name.”
“I don’t recognize it either.”
“He is interested in coming to more events like the one I hosted, although he says compared to the parties he attended in France, ours are much too tame.” Rhys was instantly reminded of Viscount Reddington, Cassandra’s first husband, a man who thought nothing of watching a young woman beaten to death if it furthered his pleasure and the pleasure of his friends. Thank God the man was dead. “Do you think his tastes run more like Reddington and his cronies?” A strange expression passed over Langley’s face. “Interesting you should ask that.
There was something about him that reminded me of Reddington. Something in his demeanor. He showed no inclination toward violence with any of the women he entertained, and I heard no complaints. But he might have been acting with caution since he is allegedly unknown to us.”
Rhys nodded, disturbed by the possible connection but not wanting to pursue it further until he talked with Farrington. “Any idea where he is staying?”
“No, but if I learn, I will let you know.”
“Please do.” Rhys took a deep breath. He didn’t want to ask the next question, but he knew he had too, especially if there was any connection between this man and either his investigation or the threats against Amanda. “I know I’ve been away for a while, but do you suppose you could secure me entree to the next entertainment?”
“I believe so. Barton is hosting a large gathering next week. I hadn’t planned on attending myself, but now that you’ve brought up these concerns, I think I will. I will see if I can secure an invitation for you as well. Will you be bringing a guest?” A picture of Amanda flashed into his mind. She would insist on accompanying him if she knew what he was about. He would just have to see that she did not. “No. I’ll come alone.”
Langley nodded. “I will send word after I’ve spoken to Barton.” Rhys stood. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Call on me again if I can assist you further.”
“I will.”
Rhys pulled his watch from his pocket as he exited. It was early yet to call on Farrington, but Farrington never had a problem visiting at whatever hour suited him.
Ignoring convention, he turned in the direction of