How I Married a Marquess Read Online Free

wouldn’t go that far.” Thomas tried to keep the patronizing tone from his voice, but truly, the description of the robberies struck him as simple paranoia. Yet Royston’s distress over it concerned him, and he frowned as he fetched the decanter. “You’re a wealthy landowner in Lincolnshire, so surely more of your guests than—”
    “I’m one of the wealthy men in the area, true, but not the only one.” He held up his glass to let Thomas pour more whiskey. “ Only my guests have been robbed by this particular highwayman. No one else’s.”
    Well, that was odd. He set the decanter aside and sank back into his chair. “Nevertheless, it doesn’t mean you, specifically, are being targeted. Could just be a run of coincidence and bad luck.”
    Royston shook his head. “When the carriages are stopped, only the men are asked to hand over their valuables. One man in each coach, no matter how many others are present. And never anything from the women, not even when openly displaying their jewels.”
    Thomas leaned forward. A highwayman who robbed only one man per coach and left jewels? Finally he was intrigued. “How long has this been happening?”
    “On and off for the past two years.”
    A faint needling of suspicion, one he hadn’t felt since he stopped being a spy, tickled at the backs of his knees and made his heart skitter. “You’re just now noticing the pattern?”
    “I had noticed before, I’m ashamed to say. But it never needed to be addressed until now.”
    “What changed?”
    “I have grand hopes for the Lords next session. Some important positions will be opening, and I want to make my mark.” His eyes met Thomas’s intently. “With your help.”
    Shaking his head, Thomas set his glass aside. “I’m afraid you’re wasting your time. I’m not involved in anything of importance in the government.” Not anymore .
    Royston leveled his shrewd gaze on him. “I know things about you, Thomas,” he answered quietly, all polite pretense gone. “I know what you’ve done since you returned from Spain, and I have connections in the War Office who have vouched for your special skills.”
    Despite the electric jolt that pulsed through him at the earl’s words, Thomas remained silent and stoic, unwilling to either deny or validate Royston’s assumptions about him. Only a handful of people knew the truth about what he’d done for his country once he left the army, once his real fight against the French had begun. Despite the close friendship their two families shared, he wouldn’t endanger Royston unnecessarily. No matter how much he wanted to help.
    Besides, those special skills the War Office had assured the earl he possessed were the same ones they no longer wanted.
    “I want you to come to Blackwood Hall and investigate.” Asking for help from someone twenty years his junior was clearly difficult for the proud man, but judging from the exasperated look in his eyes, he’d found no other solution. “I want these robberies stopped, no matter the cost.” His gaze dropped back to his drink. “And if it goes well, I see no reason why I shouldn’t put in a good word for you with Lord Bathurst, assuring him that you have my full support and confidence. That you are truly back to being your old self.”
    Bathurst . Thomas froze even as his chest squeezed hard. This could very well be the opportunity he’d been seeking, his very last hope of returning to the life he’d led before the shooting. When he’d had purpose and meaning. When he’d last felt alive .
    “Do we have an agreement, then, Chesney?”
    Thomas nodded slowly, outwardly calm despite his racing heart. Stopping a highwayman was a far cry from the type of work he’d done as a spy, but it would also serve as a test to prove to Bathurst—and to himself—that his skills hadn’t deteriorated.
    “I’m hosting a house party at Blackwood Hall next week.” The earl set aside his glass and stood. “A chance for friends and