Page 7 of The Swan Syndicate #1

“We’ve been expecting you but weren’t sure how well the incantations worked. And, of course, you’ve been greatly missed.” Barrington, the Waverly butler, was a long-time friend of Beckworth’s from their early days running with a London crew—Beckworth’s term for a gang.

Stella was overcome with emotion when the aloof butler bent and kissed her cheek. She was saved from displaying what his affection meant to her when Jamie and Lando gave her welcomed bear hugs.

“We weren’t sure if Beckworth could remember how to use the stones.” Jamie gave Beckworth a good-natured punch on his shoulder before shaking hands. “It’s good to see you home.”

Hensley, the steadfast leader of a network of spies working for the Crown, wasn’t willing to let go of his English stuffiness, but she managed to give him a kiss on each cheek, forcing a blush. He waited patiently for Beckworth to make his way to the desk and then held out his hand.

“When I asked Barrington to invite you and Mary to the hunting party, it was meant as a restful weekend without any business.” Beckworth held the handshake a bit longer than normal, and Stella caught the meaningful look that passed between them.

There was definitely a mission being planned.

Her curiosity only grew deeper when she noted Thomas—she never caught his last name—lounging in a far corner chair. She hadn’t spent much time around him when he’d helped with the mission to take down Gemini. So, it was surprising when he smiled and nodded at her. It was more than she expected.

Thomas had worked as Sergeant of Arms for the Earl of Hereford. A job previously held by Ethan. After the earl succumbed to age-related maladies, Stella assumed Thomas would hold the same position for the earl’s nephew, the new lord of Brun Manor. Maybe the mission involved the nephew.

She glanced at the men, settling her gaze on Hensley.

Would he update Beckworth on the conversation they’d interrupted while she was in the room?

This wasn’t the twenty-first century, and while she’d previously been included in the mission meetings, it was only because she’d been a victim with insight into Gemini.

AJ and Maire always had a role to play, but they were typically included for the skills they brought to the team.

Beckworth’s eyes gleamed as he chatted with his friends.

Would this still be the holiday they’d planned?

She glanced around for an available seat.

The west study was similar to the one at Hensley’s manor and larger than Beckworth’s personal study in the east wing.

A massive desk took a prominent stage surrounded by stuffed bookcases, a floor globe, and a cart containing a stocked bar.

Beckworth’s fascination with books extended to the east study and a stunning library filled with chairs and sofas for reading and dozens of bookcases.

Beckworth’s favorite hobbies besides gardening were chess and collecting books.

In Baywood, he’d managed to stuff books into any open space he could find.

He joked about adding an extension to the house for a library, though she wasn’t positive he was kidding.

A small seating area with a sofa and two stuffed chairs surrounded the hearth, where low flames licked at the remaining embers. She took a seat on the sofa and turned to face the desk, making herself at home rather than waiting to see if she’d be invited.

They might want her to leave, but they’d have to kick her out.

While the men chatted about the new foal, Hensley returned to his seat behind the desk. And though it was obvious he was listening to what they said, since he had his own collection of stallions, his eyes kept darting to her.

What made her take note of it wasn’t glares or looks meant to remind her she was in the men’s study. He didn’t do either of those things. No. If she had to put a name to it, his gaze was one of curiosity.

Hensley was older than the others. Perhaps in his fifties.

Age wasn’t easy to discern in this time period with a lack of proper diets and occasions to drink enough alcohol that made her look like a teetotaler.

He was an aristocrat, though she never heard him called by a title other than lord, which was the proper way to address most men with titles.

But he’d been in Parliament and hobnobbed in the King’s court.

Yet, for all his propriety, he worked well with people in all social classes, which made him excellent in his role as spymaster.

He was impossible to beat at chess, though she’d come close a couple of times.

Somewhere along the way, the two of them had developed a bond that gave her a certain latitude, but she’d be an idiot to ever cross a line with him.

She tucked her musings away as Hensley cleared his throat. “Now that we have the lord of the manor back, it’s time to return to our discussion. He can share his new life in the future during dinner when Mary returns.”

“Where is Mary?” Beckworth took a seat in a chair next to the sofa. “I would have expected her to be running Mrs. Walker ragged with supervising the housekeeping duties.”

“She’s spending a couple of days with Eleanor.” Hensley dabbed at his forehead before shuffling paper around.

“Something about needing time away from all the men in the manor.” Jamie grinned.

Lando, who always preferred standing, as if itching to have someplace to go, leaned against one of the bookcases and nodded with a huge grin.

Hensley’s cheeks reddened, and Stella held back a smile.

“And you sent Fitz to check on them?” Beckworth asked.

“Is that where he went?” Jamie asked. “I thought he was checking on the foal.”

“He probably got a craving for Eleanor’s meat pies,” Lando responded.

“Well, it must have been a difficult walk from Eleanor’s. We left him in the kitchen with another meat pie.” Stella grinned and fingered her opal.

“He’s never been one to sit long.” Lando moved to a straight-backed chair that Stella was positive would be considered an antique even in this era.

She had to give AJ, a burgeoning antiques broker, credit for not bringing home items to sell.

Stella made it a personal mission if she had the opportunity, to buy something for her.

AJ might not have the best memories of her time in this century, but she’d made friends that she’d left behind.

It wouldn’t hurt to have a memento or two to remember the good times.

Maybe a hair ornament like the one Beckworth had bought her.

“So, Hensley, why is it my carefully made plans for a hunting party have been delayed for a fortnight?” Beckworth leaned back and appeared comfortable with a leg crossing over a knee.

She suspected his casual appearance wasn’t the full story.

He wasn’t angry, or she’d see it reflected in a tightened jaw.

It was more a combination of the curiosity she’d seen earlier on Hensley and concern over what was so important it forced his guests to rearrange schedules.

If nothing else, Beckworth was a consummate host. His first thoughts would be of his guests—more specifically, Dame Elizabeth Ellingsworth.

“Not to worry, Beckworth.” Hensley reviewed a letter, set it aside, and picked up another one. “I caught Barrington before the invitations went out and replaced them with an apology on behalf of the Crown for the delay.”

Mention of the Crown made Beckworth and Stella sit a bit taller.

If Hensley was tossing around the Crown as the reason for the postponement, this had to be important.

England was at war with Napoleon. When Stella was last at Waverly and had considered asking Beckworth to go home with her, she’d backed off when she’d overheard a conversation between him, Hensley, and Jamie.

She racked her brain. It had been months since that day, but it came back easily enough.

There had been word of a possible spy in the war council. Big stuff. Was this the same concern?

“What’s so important to the Crown that you’d need a ship?” Beckworth jogged loose a question she hadn’t considered. Which was strange considering the men in the room. “And I must ask, as good as it is to see Thomas, does this also touch the new master of Brun Manor? Or is he an earl already?”

Thomas answered first. “He’s not an earl and has quite a lot to learn before that day ever comes.

When I first met him, he seemed like a man I could work for.

But when he moved in, he brought his own men to form an elite guard.

I was invited to stay on in a minor security position.

” He clenched a hand into a fist. “If the earl were alive to see the caliber of men the new lord brought with him, he’d run them off his land.

Not a single man has seen battle, nor do they have the experience to train fighting men.

I took the last of my pay and headed south. ”

“And it was fortunate that his first stop was in Bristol.” Hensley’s smile was sincere.

“The loss of the earl was quite a blow, but death comes for us all.” He paused a moment, then turned to Beckworth.

“Thomas has been working with the network for the last couple of weeks, mostly working with our contacts to meet the players. The reason we’re here and why I need a ship has to do with something Jamie and Fitz uncovered while the rest of you searched for the missing Mórdha Stone Chronicles. ”

“I only heard parts of that story.” Beckworth scratched his head. “Something to do with smugglers?”

Jamie nodded and took up the tale. “We’d just dropped Maire and Ethan off in Newport for their run to Bransford. Before we turned for London, we sailed to Dublin to pick up cargo.”

“You mean Irish whiskey,” Beckworth corrected.

“It’s a popular cargo during wartime or peace.”

Beckworth chuckled. “No doubt. I’m remembering now. Something about someone who should have hung at Newgate.”

The door opened at the right time as Fitz strolled in.

He must have heard the conversation before entering because he finished Beckworth’s statement with, “Thaddeus MacDuff.” He shut the door and found a spot on the floor, drawing up his legs.

“He’d been sailing along the southern coast of Ireland, stopping at ports and riling up the locals with talk of France being our salvation to rid ourselves of the English. ”

“More like finding the best ports to run his smuggling operation.” Jamie stood and walked to a map on the wall that showed the British Isles and the northern coast of Europe.

“From what we’ve been able to pickup through our contacts and ship captains, MacDuff has been seen along both coasts—Ireland and England.

His travels take him from just north of Dublin to the southern tip of Ireland and along the western coast of England. ”

“Could be typical smuggling operations,” Lando said.

“Or a way to bring French spies to England while finding isolated ports to moor French ships.” Fitz pulled out a pipe and stuck it in his mouth but didn’t light it.

Stella didn’t remember Fitz smoking a pipe, and she considered the first mate.

He was a decent-looking man. Not as roguish as Finn or Jamie, but he carried a carefree attitude that seemed to lure women to his bed.

Or so Beckworth had told her. And while not her type, she sensed the magnetism.

At first, she’d considered him a roughneck sailor and nothing more.

But she’d been on a few missions with him.

He was competent and somewhat of a chameleon, easily adapting his persona to fit a situation, similar to Beckworth’s ability. Perfect spy material for Hensley.

“Though frowned upon, the Crown isn’t overly concerned about smuggling at this time.

” Hensley stood and replenished his glass with an amber liquid.

Some of that Irish whiskey, if Stella was to guess.

Once he returned to his seat, he continued.

“England doesn’t have the resources, not while battling Napoleon. ”

“But the rumors about possible French spies must have the War Council concerned.” Beckworth tapped his fingers on the armrest, his brows knitted.

“Yes, but with the Royal Navy focused on France, we simply don’t have the ships to waste chasing MacDuff between ports, especially when we don’t currently have a location for him.

We could use British patrols, but they don’t have the skills to deal with someone like MacDuff.

And the last thing we need is him going to ground if he smells a patrol. ”

“Now it makes sense,” Beckworth added, and Stella had a good idea where this was going.

Hensley nodded. “I need the Daphne and her crew to find MacDuff.”