Free A License to Wed: Rebellious Brides by Diana Quincy Page B

recruited a fair number of fishermen and smugglers to act as informants. The island and its inhabitants were crucial to intelligence efforts and would be even more so once the peace broke down. Therein lay his problem, the one that had brought him to Paris in the first place.
    Hamilton Sparrow, one of his best agents, who’d successfully operated out of Jersey for more than a year, had vanished a fortnight ago, just days after sending a coded message indicating he’d made a compelling discovery. Will feared the worst; Sparrow wasn’t one to go to ground without a word to his superiors.
    To make matters worse, throughout it all—the visit to Jersey and the discreet inquiries into Sparrow’s whereabouts—thoughts of Elle had occupied his mind and intruded upon his work. There was now little doubt about the nature of her liaison with Duret. He’d just received his first report from the man he’d assigned to watch Elle’s residence. Several mornings ago, the man had arrived to begin his surveillance assignment just in time to see the general depart Elle’s house during the breakfast hour, a time when society’s denizens did not entertain visitors, except for the intimate acquaintances who’d stayed overnight.
    “The prodigal is returned.” Lucian Verney’s voice cut into his musings as he settled into a wooden chair opposite Will at the small, round café table.
    “Lucian.” He nodded in greeting. “How goes your dalliance with Madame Laurent?”
    Lucian frowned his displeasure. “The party to whom you refer is a lady. I’ll thank you to remember it.”
    Clearly the flirtation still flourished, despite the affair with Duret. Elle certainly was a busy woman these days. “So that’s the way of it.”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “You do realize she could be working for Duret. Has she prompted you to reveal any Crown secrets yet?”
    “No, she most certainly has not.” Heat rose in Lucian’s voice. “I have not overstepped with the lady. If that is what you are implying.”
    “Calm yourself.” Will tried to ignore the intense relief cascading through him at the confirmation Lucian hadn’t bedded Elle. “I am merely suggesting that you should watch yourself where Madame Laurent is concerned.”
    Lucian gave him a searching look. “Just how well acquainted were you with Madame Laurent back in England?”
    Not a line of questioning he wished to pursue. “Well enough to know the lady cannot be trusted.”
    “And why is that?”
    “As a gentleman, I can say no more.”
    Lucian gave him an odd look, but any forthcoming reply was interrupted by the server, who came over to take his coffee order. Once they were alone again, Lucian asked, “I trust your journey was successful.”
    Will welcomed the change of subject. “Not as much as I had hoped.”
    Lucian jutted his chin toward Will’s hands. “What is that?”
    He flipped the paper over, revealing a calling card that was blank, except for the etching of a bird where the name should be. “Sparrow’s calling card.”
    Lucian’s face lit up. “You’ve had word from him.”
    “Unfortunately not. I found this among his things in Jersey, but otherwise, there’s no sign of him.”
    Taking the card, Lucian examined it. “How do you know it’s his? There’s no name on it.”
    “This card often accompanies Sparrow’s messages to verify their authenticity.” They quieted as the server appeared with Lucian’s coffee and waited until the man was out of earshot to continue their conversation.
    “And you found no hint of the great discovery he made just before he vanished?” Lucian asked.
    “None.”
    “Perhaps your little bird has flown the coop.” He sipped his coffee. “His grandmother was a frog, after all.”
    “Naturally, I’ve considered the possibility.” Ham Sparrow’s Gallic connections had no doubt played a role in his intelligence successes; the man spoke and looked like a native, and easily blended in among the French