The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh by Ella Quinn Page B

as possible to your destination.”
    She worried her full lower lip for a moment. “That’s a good idea. Thank you.”
    â€œYou’re welcome. I’ll bid you a good night.” Harry started back toward the stairs, heaved a sigh, then went to talk to the innkeeper. Once he was satisfied arrangements were in place to protect the ladies, he found his own bed. With any luck, Miss Spencer-Jones would be traveling in a different direction from him, and he wouldn’t see her again. The last thing he needed was her distracting him.
    November 8th, evening, London
    Florian sat at the corner table of a seedy tavern in Spittlefield. He pretended not to notice as Georges entered and raised a brow as he surveyed the room. If Georges saw the small dark-haired man seated with his back to Florian’s table, he gave no indication.
    Georges got a tankard from the bar and joined Florian, sitting with his back to the wall.
    Once his cousin sat, Florian leaned forward, and in a low voice said, “I’ve set up a meeting with the only gang that appears to be at all discreet. I’ve had a devil of a time getting an appointment with their head man.”
    â€œAre you telling me that you do or do not have an appointment?”
    â€œOh, no, I’ve got one for two days hence. In the middle of the damned night. I’ll have to take a room in one of the large towns nearby.”
    â€œWhat have you told them?” Georges asked.
    â€œThat I was a merchant looking to ship wool to France,” Florian responded. “Time enough to tell them I want to bring packages in when I meet the head of the gang.”
    â€œGood, we’ll meet when you return. Au revoir, mon ami .” Georges stood to leave.
    Florian stayed where he was for a few minutes more, waiting for the small dark-haired man to follow Georges before quitting the tavern. Once Florian was outside, he strode quickly toward the more salubrious parts of Town, before slowing to a stroll.
    When he turned on to St. James Street, the dark-haired man, calling himself Scully, joined him.
    â€œDid you find where he’s living?” Florian asked.
    He felt little remorse for what he was about to do. Georges had blackmailed him into helping him during the war. Afraid of being discovered, Florian had tried to give him old intelligence reports for the most part, but occasionally, he had to give Georges something new. Mostly, Florian had used the excuse that he wasn’t senior enough to have new information. Until, that is, his new position was announced in the Gazette . After that, he’d been required to be much more creative. Still, it was better to give in to Georges’s demands than to have his proclivities brought to light. He’d lose everything.
    â€œYup, got him nice and boxed in,” Scully replied. “A couple of me lads is watchin’ him. If he leaves, he’ll be followed like a tantony pig. When do you want him done for?”
    â€œAs soon as we can do it safely,” Florian said. “I don’t want anyone caught.”
    He didn’t want to be caught. His father would cut him off if he found out about any of this, and Florian couldn’t afford to be without family funds. Not much longer now, and he’d be free. Georges would be dead, and no one would know his secret. He continued on to Brook’s.
    Â 
    Scully waited until the swell was out of sight and then glanced around to make sure no one was following him. Ducking down an alley, he came up against a large man and stopped short. “Didn’t see you there, Guv’nor.”
    â€œThat was rather the point,” the man said. “What did you find out?”
    Scully backed up a little. The man was not the friendly type. “We’re to do away with the Frenchie as soon as it’s safe.”
    The man frowned. “Hmm, were you given a reason?”
    Scully shrugged. “Said the Frenchie was a spy.”
    â€œWell,