Page 13 of The Swan Syndicate #1

Beckworth whistled as he strode through the manor.

He’d just come from the stables, pleased with how well the foal and mare were doing.

It was good to be home. He took a deep breath, enjoying the herbal scent that flowed through the house.

Something Mrs. Walker insisted on, and his guests never complained, so he let her be.

Over the last few years, most of his time at Waverly had been spent under the yoke of his bastard father.

Then he got caught up in the mystery of the Mórdha stones that took his time and almost his life.

Once that business was done, Hensley lured him into his network of spies working on behalf of the Crown, primarily in London.

He rubbed his hands together against the chill in the air.

They hadn’t been back a day, and Hensley laid a mission at his door.

He hadn’t considered Beckworth for the task, or so he said.

It was a mission for Jamie, which only made sense.

To catch a smuggler, one would need a ship, and the Daphne Marie was a sleek schooner with a seasoned and well-captained crew.

A crew that was also masterful in the art of subterfuge and misdirection.

The thought of going with Jamie had lit a spark in him he hadn’t felt for some time. And with that thought, he made a quick turn into a rarely used drawing room, shutting the door behind him. He found a chair in the far corner where he would be almost invisible if someone were to enter.

He rubbed his face then pushed his hands over his head, pulling strands from his queue. What had he been thinking?

He wasn’t a single man anymore. It had been easy enough to remember that while living in Stella’s house, surrounded by her things and the new life they were building. He’d even added a few touches of his own in the house and garden. It was a good life but held little in the way of challenge.

He’d been working as a consultant in Ethan’s security business, and he kept busy learning about technology, but there wasn’t any mystery in it for him.

The thrill of pursuit. Stella had confided a few weeks after he’d traveled to the future that she was concerned he wouldn’t find fulfillment.

It had been one of his concerns as well.

On the other hand, his time period would be equally difficult for her over time.

If she were a more submissive or demure woman, she could cope with the behavior expected of a woman.

And if she had been that woman when he met her, he wouldn’t have given her a second thought other than to help because she was AJ’s friend.

But he loved Stella and chose her time period.

He never thought he’d find such deep and sustaining love.

Hadn’t believed it truly existed. In this time—his time—marriages were nothing more than business arrangements or ones of convenience.

He’d bedded his share of women, flirted, courted in a fashion, but love?

The first time he’d caught a glimpse of it had been with AJ and Finn, but he’d assumed that to be a special case.

Then he came face to face with the ginger-haired beauty with a fiery will to match his own. Someone he could see living the rest of his life with. Perhaps building a family with.

Now, he’d been lured into one of Hensley’s missions. He didn’t have to join the team. It would be as simple as wishing them well then spending two glorious weeks with Stella, preparing for his guests. Maybe take her for a ride or two.

He grinned. She’d asked for a riding habit.

The woman surprised him at every turn. She couldn’t be happy with the thought of him leaving, yet she must know he’d go.

It was only surveillance. A few days roaming the ports along the English coast. Perhaps a quick run down the southern coast of Ireland.

They’d be back before the guests arrived, and then he’d convince her to stay a few more days.

By the time they returned to Baywood, only a couple of days would have passed.

He stared at the horrific portrait on the wall across from him.

The painting was a leftover from the previous viscount.

He’d spent years trading out the art and furniture left behind in favor of new purchases, but it was a slow process.

It was time to make some changes in this room. A perfect job for Stella.

He ran his hand over his hair one more time, poking loose strands back into place, then stood, ready to face Stella with his decision.

Down one hallway and then another, he peeked into rooms but couldn’t find anyone who could tell him where Stella might be. He was debating whether to visit the kitchen or run up to the second floor when Douglas, one of his footmen and part-time spy, entered the foyer, heading for the sitting room.

“Where is everyone?” Beckworth asked.

“Barrington is in your east study, Mrs. Walker is downstairs doing inventory, and Lady Stella is upstairs in your room. Oh, and Captain Jamie wants to leave in an hour to catch the tide.”

“Thank you, Douglas. I’ll need two footmen to gather my trunk. Give me a half hour to finish packing.”

He stopped by his office to give Barrington last-minute directions. He was still wondering over his butler’s strange smile when he opened the door to his bedroom.

“There you are.”

Stella turned and smiled. “Have you been looking for me?”

“Only for the last half hour. I never realized how large the manor is when needing to find someone. I barely found Douglas to tell me where everyone was.”

“Mrs. Walker has everyone doing inventory. I’ve given several dinner parties, and I’m used to just running into town to grab last-minute items. Not something you can do here. Mary and Eleanor took a stroll in the garden, and I assumed Hensley and Jamie were in the stables with you.

He laughed. “Planning for a long weekend party can take a toll on the staff. By the way, Barrington showed me the invitations. They’re perfect. It seems you’ve mastered the quill.”

She shook her hands in what he assumed was a reflexive action. “Not without wasting dozens of sheets of paper and giving me carpal tunnel.”

He strode toward the dressing room, surprised Stella hadn’t said anything about the open trunk. When he glanced down to see what his valet had packed, he stopped short.

Next to his clothes were the pants and long-sleeved shirt Stella had worn through the fog on their arrival, similar to those while on the run from Gemini. He reached in and looked under them. Another set, and then a day dress under that.

He shook his head. “No.”

S tella didn’t turn from whatever she was doing at the dressing table. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I said no.” Beckworth almost growled the sentiment.

“I must not have heard you correctly.”

“You’re not going with us.”

Stella chuckled. “Says who?”

“Says me. We talked about this.”

She spun around, hands on hips, and his jaw clenched.

He was not going to listen to one of her lists.

“Exactly when did we discuss it? After Hensley mentioned the mission within the first hour after our jump here? Or maybe it was during the tour of the manor. Nope. Maybe after we crawled into bed that evening or during our breakfast coffee the next morning? No. Not then, either. The first indication of your decision was the open trunk the footmen left after you strolled out of the bedroom this morning.”

She had given him a list, but it wasn’t one he’d been prepared for.

“You could have asked.” As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.

It had been his responsibility to discuss it with her, but he hadn’t because of this very issue—her wanting to go with him.

He hadn’t wanted their first days back to be in an argument.

Up until now, she’d been sweet and patient and, damn it, had been the perfect lady of the manor.

And all the time, she knew what his intentions had been.

He blurted out the only thing he could think of. “Besides, it’s too dangerous.”

“Says you.”

“Yes.” He all but roared. He had played this all wrong.

She stood there, completely uncaring about his concerns, somehow thinking she’d won.

How would Finn handle this? He took a deep breath in an attempt to dispel his temper, but it wasn’t working.

He managed somewhat of a defense. “I’ve been on countless missions. I have experience in these matters.”

She simply shrugged. “Hensley gave me a role in the mission. I can be of use.” Then she turned back to what she’d been doing.

He stepped to the side to get a better view. She was going through the first aid kit AJ had given her. She was serious about this. Well, so was he.

“We’ll see about this.” He stormed out of the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him.

What had the spymaster been thinking? Of all the preposterous notions.

He marched through the manor, sorry for making two housemaids and a footman back away as he passed by. It took several strides before he stopped and glanced back. He thought he’d scared them, but on reflection, had they been smiling? He didn’t see anything funny about the situation.

He burst into his west-wing study where Hensley was writing a letter. He didn’t seem surprised to see him.

“What’s this about giving Stella a role in the mission?”

Hensley held back a grin, but it appeared to require every ounce of his unflappable countenance to do it. He dipped the quill and continued to write. “That wasn’t quite what I said.”

Beckworth calmed. “What exactly did you say?”

“I said a woman might provide alternatives to the mission, but she’d have to abide by Jamie’s decision on who has a role.”

“I should have expected her to shape the words to her benefit.” He paced in front of the windows that looked out to the garden.

“Yes, you should have.” Hensley set down the quill and sprinkled pounce over it.

“Well, I still say she can’t go.”

Hensley chortled. “But that’s up to her and Jamie, isn’t it?”