Derek Shaw nodded.
Belle braced herself.
“About four years ago, a French spy infiltrated our British ranks—”
Her heart plummeted.Damn that pox-riddled fart.
“—with the sole purpose of obtaining the names of our operatives in Paris. It had been believed that he’d successfully completed his mission—”
Not exactly.
“—yet nothing ever came of it,” Derek paused, his eyes meeting everyone’s gazes.
Belle met his eyes evenly, even though her heart hammered in her chest and her skin had tightened in alarm. She’d expected this, but still, it hit her hard and true. Shaw, on the other hand, might as well have been sipping tea and enjoying lemon cakes during his deadpan retelling of her past.
“I believe something went wrong at the end of his mission, something that prevented him from sharing the names on the list.”
Yes, me.
Jo’s perfectly arched brows creased at the inside edges. “That is all very peachy Derek, but what does that have to do with us?”
Remain calm.
“Yes, I do not see how we can be of help in the Crown’s business,” her husband agreed.
“I was getting to that part,” Derek bit through his clenched jaw.
Jo threw her hands up in mock defeat, earning a grin from her husband.
“He has been spotted here in London not two days ago.”
Belle’s breath caught and the uneasy feeling formed again in the pit of her stomach. He’d returned the night of the ball, the night she got wind of his familiar fragrance. Deep in the halls of her heart, she had still held out hope she was wrong and that she’d given away her savings for no good reason at all. Now, that hope was irrefutably dashed.
“Does this man have a name?” Evelyn asked.
“Edgar De Roux.”
Belle’s too-wide eyes drifted down to her tightly clenched hands. Tears threatened, but she willed them away.
Westfield straightened at the name. “I’ve heard talk of him,” he cleared his throat, “in certain circles. It is said that someone, a traitor to the crown, assisted his escape from the British shores as he could never have made it out alive otherwise.”
A traitor to the crown.
Belle was going to be sick.
Before her, oblivious of her innerbattle, Derek nodded. “That might as well be true. We believe that it was someone in our midst who aided him, though we could never confirm it as a fact.”
Grey shook his head. “How is this even a matter of public knowledge?”
This time, it was James who answered. “It’s not, though one can never prevent some gossip and speculation to form. Be as it may, we’ve been tasked to secure his whereabouts.”
“Tasked by whom?” Belle croaked.
“We are not at liberty to say,” James added.
“Yet you are at liberty to include civilians in your task?” Grey asked, his voice incredulous.
The brothers remained silent.
