A Dangerous Pursuit (Regency Spies & Secrets Book 1) by Laura Beers (romantic love story reading TXT) 📕

Bow Street Runners to arrive, she wondered. She glanced over at the girls, and they each gave her a look of pity. They truly believed that she had been deceived. But she hadn’t been. Lord Hawthorne wouldn’t have betrayed her like this.

But doubt crept in, and she began to wonder if she would be rescued after all.

Baldwin stared at the door and wondered where the blasted Runners were. They had one simple task—to raid the pub and rescue the women—and they would be rewarded with accolades. Instead, they were botching it. Horribly.

He cast a glance towards Corbyn, who was sitting at a crowded table on the other side of the room. He had a smile on his face, but Baldwin wasn’t fooled by his act. He knew his friend was alert, preparing for a fight and just biding his time.

“Don’t you agree?”

Baldwin turned his attention back to Morton. “About what?”

Morton chuckled and held up his tankard in the air. “I think you have had one too many to drink, mate.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I have been trying to get your attention for the past few minutes.”

Baldwin placed his nearly-full tankard down on the table. “I was thinking about how I intend to spend my money.”

“It is rather a large sum for a man like you.”

“I would agree.”

The serving wench approached the table and asked, “Can I get ye another round?”

Baldwin shook his head. “Not for me,” he said. “We have been drinking for hours, and I’m afraid I have met my limit.”

Morton waved the serving wench off with a flick of his hand. “I have been meaning to ask you if you have any experience with explosives.”

“Minimal,” he replied.

“That is good.”

“Why do you ask?”

Morton leaned closer and lowered his voice. “We are going to do something that will incite a revolution.”

Baldwin looked at him expectantly. “Which is?”

“We are going to assassinate Lord Liverpool, Lord Sidmouth, and Lord Desmond,” Morton revealed, his eyes growing dark.

With a baffled expression, Baldwin asked, “I understand killing the Prime Minister and the Home Secretary, but I don’t understand why you wish to kill Lord Desmond. After all, isn’t he a champion for the people?”

Morton scoffed loudly. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “He has been stealing money from the workhouses for years.”

Baldwin frowned. “How do you know that?”

“I know a man who works as a solicitor for Lord Desmond, and he informed me that Desmond is contracted to run ten workhouses in London,” Morton shared. “He intentionally inflates the number of the poor inmates to get additional funding for the workhouse, then he takes the money and lines his own pocket.”

Baldwin clenched his jaw. “That is despicable. We must stop him.”

“How?” Morton huffed. “It isn’t as if anyone would believe a solicitor over an earl. It would take a duke to level charges against him before anyone takes them seriously.”

“Or a marquess,” Baldwin muttered.

“That, too, but I don’t run in those type of circles.”

“Nor I,” Baldwin said, “but we can’t keep letting Desmond get away with it.”

Morton pushed his empty tankard to the side. “Don’t worry,” he assured him. “Desmond will get what he deserves.”

“How do you intend to do that?”

Morton’s eyes darted around the room. “Are you familiar with how the French royalists attempted to assassinate Napoleon in 1800?”

“I am,” Baldwin replied. “The conspirators attached a large wine cask to a cart and loaded it with a bomb. They laid in wait for Napoleon’s carriage, but they were too late, and they failed in their attempt.”

Morton nodded in approval. “Their plan was brilliant, but they lit it too late, and the gunpowder they used was bad, causing a few more seconds of delay.”

“If I recall correctly, they caught most of the conspirators, but one was able to flee to the Americas.”

A smile came to Morton’s lips. “They didn’t catch all the conspirators.”

“They didn’t?”

Morton shook his head. “Carbon was the one who made the bomb, and he was killed for his crime.”

“But that was only after he confessed the names of his fellow conspirators.”

“Not all of them,” Morton said in a low voice. “He protected his fifteen-year-old daughter, who helped him make the bomb.”

Baldwin gave him a skeptical look. “Are you truly insinuating that a girl could assist in making a bomb that killed a dozen people and wounded nearly forty others?”

“I am.”

“Then you are mad.”

Morton put his hands up. “Hear me out,” he said. “Carbon’s daughter, Marie, has come to England to help us execute our plan.”

“Why would she do that?” he asked.

“The royalist group that Carbon belonged to was connected to Chouan leader Georges Cadoudal, who was in England’s pocket,” Morton shared. “Cadoudal had assured Carbon and his fellow conspirators that England was supportive of the assassination attempt and would help them escape France after they executed their plan. However, when the plan failed, the English turned their backs on the conspirators, leaving them to their fates.”

“How awful,” Baldwin murmured.

“Now Marie wants revenge, and I want a revolution,” Morton said, leaning slowly back in his chair. “It is a perfect partnership.”

“How do you intend to blow…” Baldwin’s voice trailed off as he saw three men with red waistcoats passing by the window.

“Runners,” he uttered.

Morton looked at him curiously. “Pardon?”

“We need to leave now!” Baldwin proclaimed, shoving back his chair.

“Why?”

“I just saw three Runners outside the window,” he explained. “We need to leave through the back.”

Morton jumped up from his chair. “Follow me,” he ordered with a tremor in his voice.

Baldwin followed Morton towards the door in the back of the room. Just as he reached for the handle, the main door was thrown open and someone ordered, “Stay where you are!”

Ignoring the command, Morton threw the back door open and raced out into the alley with Baldwin close behind.

“Hey, you there!” a Runner shouted at the end of the alley. “Stop where you are!”

They both ran out of the alley and Morton turned left. Baldwin turned right. Unfortunately, the Runner decided to chase after him.

Baldwin dodged in and out of the men