Page 34 of A Translation of Desire (The Brazen Curators #2)

R ose studied the French man as they continued to ride in the carriage.

Wondering who Remy was and where he obtained the document he showed her earlier.

The rumor that ancient text was being used to send coded messages had proven true.

Did that mean Hawley knew more than he’d shared?

He had to. Rose and the scholar were the only two who could decipher cuneiform.

Her gaze drifted over the man. A shiver of fear shot through her.

He exuded a coldness that disconcerted Rose.

She swallowed as her mind flashed back to him shooting Bradford without a care in the world.

What drove someone to be that way? Was he a spy for France?

“Why are you doing this? Is it for some cause or your country?”

The man snorted. “What cause would make my actions acceptable? Tell me, and I will use that one.”

Rose didn’t know what his words meant. Did it make him more dangerous or less that he seemed to be doing this for selfish reasons? Still, she suspected the coded message had something to do with espionage of some kind.

“Why would anyone use an ancient language to send a message? Perhaps your answer will help me decipher your document.”

Remy snorted. “Ask Viscount Hawley. I’m not sure if your government asked him to develop a way to use cuneiform or if he proposed it.”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward. “You are saying Lord Hawley is involved in this.”

He sneered at her. “Miss Calvert, I suggest you ask the man next time you see him.”

Did that mean she would live? A small measure of relief filled her.

“The French want whatever is in the coded message?”

A sneer replaced his smirk as if Rose had somehow offended him with the suggestion he was acting on behalf of France.

“My boss sells secrets, Miss Calvert. The message you must decipher for us will be very valuable if sold to the right group.”

Remy and the man he worked for were doing this all for money. The fact he was willing to harm people to accomplish his goals was horrifying to Rose. He would likely kill her when he had obtained what he needed.

The man leaned forward. “You know nothing about me—not my name or even where I’m from. I give you my word: If you decipher my text, I will let you go.”

Her eyes widened, skeptical, and he chuckled. Rose asked, “Where are we going?”

“A place where we won’t be disturbed.”

“It may not be as simple as you think,” Rose pointed out.

Remy sighed. “Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not. My key only works for certain languages. If it isn’t those languages, it will be impossible.”

A menacing glint appeared in Remy’s eyes, and Rose shrank back, not liking it at all. He whispered softly, “Let’s hope it is the right language. How long will it take?”

“I don’t know.”

“It needs to be done fast.”

“That isn’t the way it works,” Rose snapped back.

He grunted but didn’t say anything further. Rose remained quiet. Wherever they were headed appeared far from where Remy had retrieved her. She frowned, hoping Bradford had somehow managed to survive.

They’d been in the vehicle for almost an hour, and the driver wasn’t slowing but was actually gaining speed.

She needed an escape plan because Rose doubted she could decipher the text.

If someone was using cuneiform, it was almost certainly their own system of words.

She could make something up, but would the man know?

The carriage came to a stop. Remy pointed to the door, motioning for her to step out.

Rose took a deep breath and stepped down from the carriage.

Disappointment filled her. They were still by the Thames, but it was a quiet area with only one warehouse.

Rose wasn’t sure if they were even north or south of Mayfair.

“Time to do some work, Miss Calvert.”

Rose nodded. She either needed to run or bluff her way out of the situation. She wasn’t sure what options she would take yet, but did not doubt that no one had a chance of finding her here.

*

Augustus followed Hawley down to the lower floors of the London Society of Antiquaries building.

The basement space emitted an eerie feeling in the early morning hours.

There were still guards, but most were hidden in the shadows.

They entered Hawley’s office, and the scholar immediately went to a table and poured a brandy.

He looked back at Augustus, but he shook his head.

He didn’t want his mind muddled at all while searching for Rose.

Hawley took a sip of his drink, still standing. “The British Secret Service should be able to confirm if Miss Calvert’s kidnapping is connected with the rumors.”

Anger coursed through Augustus. He was tired of Hawley’s evasiveness. Not thinking, he reached the scholar and grabbed him by the front of his shirt before slamming him against a wall. “Enough with the lies. I want the truth, all of it. We are past this being some silly rumor.”

The door of Hawley’s office swung open, and guards rushed in. He lifted a hand. “I’m fine. The duke is simply upset. Leave us.”

The guards appeared reluctant, and Hawley demanded, “Go.”

They retreated, shutting the door behind them. Augustus still had him pushed against the wall. He wouldn’t release him until he heard something that seemed like the truth.

“My involvement is more than I’ve led on. While we wait, I will explain how we’ve all landed in this situation. Please release me.”

Augustus needed answers and reluctantly did as he asked. Hawley pointed at a chair in the sitting area.

“Have a seat.”

Augustus settled into a wingback chair. Hawley sat across from him and twirled his glass.

Eventually, he said, “From time to time, the British Secret Service asks the London Society of Antiquaries for assistance. Most often, it is to deliver a message during our travels. At other times, it is more complicated. They recently contacted me to see if I could explore using cuneiform to send sensitive messages. I didn’t think the idea was smart, but I agreed. It is for our country, after all.”

“So, they are using cuneiform?”

Hawley sighed and shook his head. “Not yet. We were in the middle of testing it when this all happened.”

“What do you mean?” Augustus asked, confused.

“Cuneiform is not simply translating text. It is a series of symbols that requires the reader to decipher them. I designed a key, and the British Secret Service sent it to one of their men. The man wrote a message and sent it back to England. Unfortunately, it was intercepted. I suspect that whoever has Rose wants her to decipher it.”

But it wasn’t possible without Hawley’s key, Augustus suspected. “Do you have the key?”

Hawley shook his head. “It was delivered to someone else in England. They insisted there be no additional copies.”

“You knew this all along.”

The scholar took another sip of his drink. “I did.”

Augustus rose to his feet, enraged. “You bastard. All along, you have been lying to us.”

Rising, Hawley said, “It was a matter of national security.”

“She could die,” he thundered back at him.

Hawley grimaced, but it was the truth. Desperation choked Augustus. They needed to do something. “Can you make another copy of the key from memory?”

Shaking his head, the scholar said, “No. My part was to make the key, and forget it.”

Augustus snapped and punched the man. His head flew back, but Hawley didn’t respond. He simply rubbed his jaw. “I deserved that.”

“You better hope we find her.”

Hawley nodded. The argument was interrupted by the door opening. Three men stepped inside. One shut the door firmly as they all observed him and Hawley.

The leader, Augustus guessed, glared at him. Without breaking his stare, he said, “Hawley, I thought we agreed not to involve anyone else. This has already caused problems for our test.”

Augustus charged at the man. A fucking test is why Rose’s life hung in the balance.

The man’s eyes widened in alarm as Augustus jumped on him.

They both toppled to the ground. They punched and pushed at each other.

It was clear the man was used to fighting.

Finally, Hawley and the two other men separated them.

“Enough!” Hawley snapped.

The man glared at him. “You don’t issue orders to me.”

The scholar’s face flashed with annoyance. “If you want this club ever to assist you again, I do.”

The man snorted, dismissing him. His gaze met Augustus’s.

“We believe your lady is being held at a warehouse on the outskirts of London by the Thames. We will assist you in retrieving her, but the men holding her are ours. You will take Rose Calvert home, and we will deal with them. The actual events that transpired will never be thought of or discussed again. Is that clear?”

Augustus wanted to hit the man again. “What do we tell everyone when they ask who had her?

“You and your lady will share with your friends that the man turned out to be a smuggler who heard an outlandish rumor that anything cuneiform related could make him rich. Understand?”

Augustus nodded and reminded himself that retrieving Rose was all that mattered. The man swung back to Hawley. “Can we trust this Rose Calvert?”

Hawley nodded. A smirk filled the leader’s face. “I think we can confirm this test was a spectacular failure.”

“Agree. The London Society of Antiquaries is no longer interested in assisting you on similar projects after this debacle,” the scholar stated.

Augustus didn’t care about these men or the secrets they held. This wasn’t his world. All he wanted was to find Rose. “I’m done talking about this. Let’s go retrieve Miss Calvert. She and I will keep your secrets. Hopefully, these will be the last we ever deal with.”

“They will be,” Hawley assured.