Chapter One

1806

Rose and Crown, London

He sat in a corner of the pub, picking at the gruel the innkeeper had the temerity to call stew. The dish disgusted him, and he wagered the kitchen staff had reheated the pot at least twice. For what he paid for the abysmal meal, he had expected it to come with bread and ale, but they included neither.

He could afford to eat somewhere nicer, but the gambling tables at the Rose and Crown presented more opportunities for winning than a more expensive location could offer. The players here often got foxed and, therefore, more easily relieved of their coin. He smirked. A fool and his money are easily parted, and a drunken man will part with his even faster.

There were no games going yet, but it was still early. He picked at the lumpy stew and made a face. He would rather go hungry.

A chair scraped, and a man sat at the table across from him.

"Find some other seat," he snarled, kicking at the chair leg from under the table.

"I believe you will be interested in what I have to say," the stranger said.

He perked up. The cultured tone of the man's voice suggested his education. Upon closer examination, he realized the man's attire was not that of a laborer either. He was well-groomed and fashionably dressed.

"You best be on your guard when you depart," he scoffed, smirking at the man, "lest you be relieved of your pocketbook and your life."

"I assure you, I am well prepared to handle any miscreants I might encounter." The man extended a letter toward him, and he took it automatically. "I come on behalf of my employer. She wishes to engage your services."

"You have the wrong man," he laughed. "I offer no services."

"I believe if you read that letter, you will find that the employment she offers is entirely suitable for one of your… experience. My employer wishes for someone with your particular expertise to manage a… delicate situation."

Intrigued, he broke the seal on the letter and scanned its contents. His eyebrows went up, and he turned his gaze back to the man. "This is not some… farce? Am I to believe your employer truly wishes for my aid in this matter?"

"Believe what you will. I come to you on her behalf to extend the offer. If you do not accept, we will find a more amiable participant."

"She speaks of compensation."

The man smiled thinly. "If you choose to accept the offer of employment, I am to provide you with a location where you will meet with my mistress. She will make all the particulars known to you then."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How can I ensure I am not the victim of some machination?"

"You will have to take the chance. I promise it will be well worth your effort."

He regarded the unwelcome guest carefully. By all appearances, he spoke the truth, but he was hard to read. The man kept his face devoid of emotion, making it difficult to speculate on his thoughts.

"Where is this location?" he asked. "I wish to meet with your mistress before I make my final decision."

"You are not at liberty to stipulate conditions," the man said, pushing away from the table and standing up. "I will convey your decision to my mistress."

He panicked. "Now, let us not be so hasty. Give me but a moment to contemplate my choice." He was curious. Though he knew not the exact nature of the venture being proposed, he believed that the man was sincere when he said his employer would compensate him well. He was not one to turn down funds that required little to no effort to procure, and though he did not need coin, more never hurt.

"I accept the offer," he said after a few moments. "When will I meet with your employer?"

The man slid a piece of paper toward him. "Two days," he said and departed without another word.

He watched the man go before flipping the paper over. He smiled. As you wish, madam. Gesturing to the serving girl, he called out, "More ale!" A celebration was in order.