“Yes, that’s painfully obvious.” Fitzgerald summoned his coach, which seemed to have been waiting down the street. “The post I’m offering you, however, is more discreet, more . . . behind the scenes, if you will.”
Fitzgerald’s coach stopped in front of him. “Where to, sir?” the coachman asked.
“Just around the park.” Fitzgerald lifted one black brow at Joshua. “Will you ride with me, Major, so we can discuss this further?” When Joshua hesitated, he said, “It can’t hurt to hear me out, can it?”
“I suppose not,” Joshua said.
Once they were both situated in the coach, Fitzgerald said, “First, allow me to apologize for my superior’s insults. Ever since the fiasco at Corunna, he has been difficult to deal with. But he should not have let that govern his behavior.”
“No need to apologize,” Joshua said. “I’m used to insults.”
“Are you really? I think not, given the way you reacted afterward. How often do you lose your temper so spectacularly as to break your cane?”
“This was the first time.” Joshua crossed his arms over his chest. “But Ididbreak a jug on a man’s head because he called me ‘Armitage’s hobbyhorse’ for reporting his poacher offspring to the Armitage estate manager.”
Fitzgerald stared at him steadily. “What about your confrontation with that fellow who was kicking a dog? And that other chap who jerked your cane out from under you, causing you to fall? From what I heard, you broke more than a jug forthose.”
Bloody hell, the man had researched him and his bouts of temper quite thoroughly. Joshua wasn’t sure what to make of that. “I did indeed. I contend that any man who abuses a dog deserves to have his nose broken. But the fellow who kicked out my cane brought his broken wrist on himself. I fell into him, knocking him over, and he broke his wrist when he tried to brace his fall with his hand. I’d say I wasn’t responsible for my actions in either case.”
“Perhaps you’re right. But I can’t have you exploding into a fit of temper for any reason if you are to take the post I’m offering. So I need to know if you can control your anger better than you have in the past.”
Nothing like putting a chap on the spot. “The truth is, I’m not sure.” Sometimes the anger welled up in him so powerfully that he thought he might strangle on it. In those moments, he had to get away somewhere, be alone, read a book . . . punch a wall.
“Ah.” Fitzgerald steepled his fingers. “At least you’re honest about it.” He mused a moment. “I will be equally honest. I know why you’re in London and for whom.”
“How the devil—”
“The Duke of Thornstock is a friend of mine. When he was at Brooks’s last night, Thorn confided in me about Lionel Malet and needing you to keep the fellow away from Lady Gwyn.”
Damnation. If the duke had said this morning that he knew the undersecretary, Joshua would have asked him for an introduction. “What does the post you wish to fill have to do with Malet?”
“I’m looking for someone to spy on the man.”
That caught Joshua entirely off guard. “You think Malet is involved with other crimes than just attempting to kidnap Lady Gwyn?”
“Possibly. The man is desperate for money. That’s why he’s trying to kidnap an heiress to marry. And to hedge his bets, he may also be selling information to the French.”
“I’ll be damned.” Joshua sat back hard. “What kind of information?”
“To be truthful, we’re not sure. But we already suspected he was asking around about our troops in the Peninsula. And he’s probably finding out quite a bit because he’s been questioning soldiers, who see him as a comrade, not as the cashiered and disgraced traitor he is.”
“I suppose the news of his being cashiered hasn’t filtered down to soldiers in London yet.”
“No. And it’s the only reason he might get somewhere with his plans. We fear he’s trying to gain a copy of Lieutenant-General Wellesley’s memorandum to Castlereagh, which proposes that Wellesley use the Portuguese to help lead a campaign against the French. Wellesley is even now on his way to Portugal, but what city he means to set up as his base and how he plans to proceed are secret. If anyone gets their hands on that memorandum—”
“The French could attack Wellesley and his men before they even touch ground. Or right after.”
“That’s our fear, yes.”
Joshua saw Fitzgerald through new eyes. Clever and astute, he was clearly the man behind the throne, who did the hard work while Castlereagh shook hands and brought Fitzgerald’s proposals to Parliament.
“That is also where you come in,” Fitzgerald said. “We want you to find out who Malet is meeting and what he’s trying to sell.”
“Why me?”
“Two reasons. One, you still seek to serve your country, despite your battle wounds. That’s rare, and—despite what Castlereagh thinks—commendable.”
“Ah,” Joshua said. “And the other reason?”
