Golden Lord

Book 2: Dangerous Gifts

by Mary Jo Putney

Genres: Historical Fiction; Regency Romance; International Crime & Mystery

Synopsis

Allies of the heart and soul . . .

England, 1803. The oldest foster child of the Earl and Countess Tremayne, Caden Tremayne was one of several abandoned children rescued into the fold of the “Tribe of Tremayne,” each bearing a special gift. Now that he is grown, Cade’s superior investigative abilities and talent for preventing violence—or when necessary, executing it—are urgently required by the Home Office. For after an all-too-brief peace, Britain and France are about to be at war again. But it isn’t the dangerous mission that concerns Cade. It’s his secret love for his sweet, bright, spirited accomplice . . .

Will their love be the victor?

Tamsyn Tremayne has always felt a deep connection to Cade, whose very presence warms her heart. Yet though they are not blood, their family relationship has led her to suppress her love for him. Still, their mental bond is undeniable—and only grows stronger, along with their feelings, when Cade is captured by the French. Tam knows that Cade will not be easily broken, yet only their meeting of minds can truly save him—and hopefully free them to be together at last. But first, she will have to navigate a treacherous maze of enemies and allies to find him, they will have to escape France—and block a devastating plot against Britain . . .

Release date: November 26, 2024

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 256

Sample

The deed was done. It was a perfect day for a wedding, with sunshine and soft breezes and a sky full of birdsong in this warmest part of Great Britain. Cade Tremayne had performed his duties as witness as he stood up with his brother Bran, who was marrying the enchanting Merryn Penrose. The newlyweds glowed with happiness and a sense of rightness.

After the ceremony and wedding breakfast, everyone flowed from the house onto the lawn of Penrose Hall, sipping drinks and chatting with friends old and new. The house and gardens were on a bluff that commanded a striking view of the ocean. Cade found a quiet corner of the lawn where he could watch the guests and look down to the beach below the bluff.

He smiled when he saw that Bran and Merryn had slipped away from the gathering and were descending on the slanted path that led down to the sand. Both of them were very good at avoiding notice when they chose to. At the bottom of the path, both peeled off shoes and stockings before moving to the water’s edge, holding hands as small waves rolled over their bare feet.

Cade felt bittersweet pleasure at the sight of them together. He was profoundly happy for Bran, who deserved the love he’d found. Cade tried to suppress the unworthy envy that he felt because he wouldn’t find the same. This wedding day was a watershed for Cade as well as Bran because the marriage would change his relationship with his brother forever. Though they weren’t blood kin, they’d been as close as two boys could be ever since they’d met at a baby farm where unwanted children were sent to die. Even as small children, they’d worked together well. Bran had planned their escape and was calmly certain they would find a better life, while Cade had figured out how to make it happen.

In the depths of winter, they’d spent days clinging to the backs of northbound carriages and mail coaches, sometimes for only a few miles, other times for hours until the coach stopped and guards chased them away, often with kicks and curses. The journey had been so nightmarish that even now Cade preferred not to think about it.

They’d arrived in London on a bitter cold night. Bran’s intuition had brought them to Lord and Lady Tremayne, aristocrats who were gifted with the mysterious abilities that some people envied, and others feared and despised. The Tremaynes had both been fortunate to come from families that valued such talents.

But it wasn’t uncommon for gifted children to be thrown out of their homes when their abilities appeared, as had happened to Cade and Bran. They would have died of neglect and abuse if they hadn’t found their way to Rhys and Gwyn, who rescued gifted children in dire straits.

As a quartet of musicians began playing a bright, celebratory tune, Cade let his gaze travel over the guests, who were taking full advantage of the beautiful grounds and the sunny day. His foster father, Rhys, was ambling toward him, two glasses in hand. “I suspected that you’d prefer some good French brandy to more champagne.”

“You figured correctly.” Cade accepted a glass and took a sip. Merryn’s father had a well-stocked cellar, though no one was mentioning that one of Cornwall’s most profitable industries was smuggling and this brandy had probably never seen a customs agent.

Cade gestured at the beach below, where Bran and Merryn were laughing together as they walked along the waterline, holding hands. “Is this what a happy ending looks like?”

“Marrying the right person isn’t an end, but a beginning.” Rhys glanced across the lawn to Gwyn, who was chatting with several of the younger women, including bright blond Tamsyn, the eldest female of the Tribe of Tremayne and a legitimate daughter of the couple. She looked very like her beautiful mother.

Rhys’s eyes lit with warmth as he watched them. “Gwyn and I knew we’d found our true loves as soon as we met, but we had no idea of how splendid the future would be. Bran is the first of the Tribe of Tremayne to marry, but there will be more marriages soon. We look forward to being grandparents.”

“Don’t look at me like that!” Cade ordered. “I might be the eldest male in your tribe, but I intend to be the eccentric bachelor uncle to all the nephews and nieces.”

“God laughs when mortals make plans,” Rhys said with amusement.

Ignoring the comment, Cade said, “Saving gifted children in desperate straits has been a vital mission for you and Gwyn, and no one knows that better than I. You placed most of your rescues with other loving, accepting families—how did you decide which of us to keep?”

His foster father grinned. “Gwyn wanted to keep Bran, and since it would have taken an ax to separate the two of you, I resigned myself to the inevitable.”

Cade laughed. “Still another reason to be grateful to Bran.”

“I’m glad he and Merryn will be dividing their time between London and Cornwall. We want to see them as often as possible.”

Cade took another sip of the excellent brandy. “Did Cameron make it here in time for the wedding? I thought I saw him earlier, but not since.”

“Cam arrived from London just in time to slip into the back of the church for the ceremony. He was glad he hadn’t missed it, but he was rather travel stained so, when last seen, he was heading into the house to clean himself up properly. He said a wedding would surely include pretty young ladies, and he wanted to look presentable.”

Cade smiled. Cameron was the next youngest Tremayne son after Cade and Bran, and he had wavy brown hair, an outgoing personality, and an infectious smile. Any pretty young ladies would be equally interested in meeting him. “I assume he was held up in London so he could bring an important message to you?”

“Exactly. I’m sure you can guess what that message was.”

“The renewal of war we’ve been expecting has arrived,” Cade said flatly. “And in the blink of an eye, my father has transformed into my superior in the Home Office.”

Rhys nodded. “Exactly. We’ll be kept busy for a long time to come.” The Home Office was charged with the safety and security of Britain, and Rhys was chief of a department that recruited gifted agents for that work. Many members of the Tribe of Tremayne worked for him in a variety of ways.

“What’s the latest news?”

“Britain will officially declare war within a matter of days,” his father said quietly. “Ambassador Whitworth is preparing to leave Paris with the entire British delegation, which in itself is an announcement that the fighting is about to resume.”

It was a relief to have the waiting over. “What do you need me to do?”

“Ensure that Lord Whitworth and his wife reach England safely,” Rhys said. “You may recall that several months ago, Napoleon attacked Britain and Ambassador Whitworth in a screaming tirade in front of the entire French court.”

“It was quite the scandal,” Cade said. “Whitworth apparently endured it all with great British calm, which surely infuriated the First Consul even more. Is there reason to believe that Napoleon might try to have Whitworth killed before he can leave France?”

“Napoleon’s rage was real, but he is too canny to murder a foreign ambassador.” Rhys frowned. “My fear is that one or more of his courtiers might think that killing Whitworth would be a way of winning favor with his master.”

“Rather like when Henry II raged against Archbishop Thomas Becket and several of his knights went to Canterbury and murdered him in his own cathedral,” Cade observed.

“Exactly, and that’s an outcome we want to avoid. Whitworth is one of Britain’s finest diplomats. He is needed.”

“Do you have evidence that his life is in danger?”

Rhys shook his head. “No, just intuition.”

But Rhys’s intuition was very, very good. “So you want me to go to Paris and very discreetly guard Lord Whitworth and the rest of the delegation until they’re all safely back in England.”

“Yes. Tamsyn will go with you.”

No! Cade’s gaze involuntarily snapped to Tamsyn. She must have sensed his look because she glanced up at him with a sweet, intimate smile. Tam, who was all warmth and light and love.

He felt a wrench in his heart. He could not possibly work with her on a dangerous secret mission. “Why Tam? Better to send Cameron or one of your other agents.”

“It needs to be a woman, and Tamsyn is the best I have.”

Cade frowned. “Is it really necessary to send her into an enemy country that is collapsing into war?”

“She may look like a spun sugar angel, but she’s a first-class agent, intelligent and very skilled. I feel she’s the best choice to go with you.”

“How can you bear to send your daughter into danger?” Cade said, his voice tight.

Rhys caught Cade’s gaze, his eyes bleak. “It’s hell every single time I send any one of my children or other agents into danger. I do it because I must.”

“And we go because duty requires us to do so,” Cade said quietly.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy stopping mayhem, and you do,” Rhys said with a sudden smile. He glanced across the lawn. “I need to talk to Mr. Penrose. You and Tamsyn must leave for France as soon as possible, and I believe that Penrose can arrange a swift ship to take you.” He laid a hand on Cade’s shoulder. “Travel quickly and return home safely.”

“I’ll do my best.” Cade watched as Rhys headed purposefully toward Merryn’s father, thinking of the family Rhys and Gwyn had created, which they called the Tribe of Tremayne. It included three biological children and ten fosters. Cade privately thought it a miracle that all of the Tribe got on so well together, though it was probably not really a miracle but the love and generosity Rhys and Gwyn showed to everyone.

Even though he was looking away, he knew when Tamsyn joined him. He always knew where she was. When she reached his side, she gazed down at the beach as Bran and Merryn turned at the far end to retrace their steps. “This may be the first marriage in the family, but it certainly won’t be the last. I wonder if future spouses will blend so seamlessly into the Tribe of Tremayne as Merryn has.”

He considered her question. “Probably not. She’s powerfully gifted, which must have helped.”

“Do you think any of us will marry people who aren’t gifted?”

“I expect not, since being gifted is so much a part of who we are, and our abilities are often annoying to those who aren’t gifted.” He gave her an amused glance. “Wondering about future brothers- and sisters-in-law seems like the sort of thing a female is more likely to ponder.”

Tamsyn laughed. “I’m sure you’re right. Marriages and matchmaking are important concerns for most females.”

Though Cade doubted that was as true for females who were agents of the Home Office. “Rhys just told me that we need to leave for Paris as soon as possible. I wish he didn’t feel he had to send you into what is about to become enemy territory.”

Tam laughed. “With people like us, saying ‘I have a feeling about this’ shuts down any argument. You’ve said that often enough yourself.”

He had to chuckle. “True, but I’m usually right, aren’t I?”

“Yes, and so is Rhys. And Gwyn. And Bran.” She gave him a cherubic smile. “And so am I, big brother. Remember that time . . . ?”

“No need to mention that unfortunate episode,” he said hastily. “I was young and made a mistake.”

“And now you are old and wise and never make mistakes,” Tamsyn said in a dulcet tone. Turning serious, she continued, “I feel this mission could be very simple and straightforward. Or it might not. There is the potential for complications.”

“If so, we’ll deal with them. Lord Whitworth has the reputation of being a reasonable man, which helps. I don’t know about Lady Whitworth. Have you met her?”

“Yes, and she’s a capable woman, but her first husband was a duke and that left her with an exaggerated opinion of her consequence. She would not take kindly to a guard who was lowborn, which is why I’m needed.” After a pause, Tamsyn continued, “That’s one of the reasons I need to go to France with you. I’m not sure about the other reasons.”

The back of his neck prickled. Yes, there were likely to be serious complications on the mission.

Luckily, he was very good at dealing with complications.

Paris

Traveling at the fastest possible speed, Tamsyn and Cade reached Paris and hired Moreau, a craggy and gifted French driver, to take them to the British embassy. Moreau was part of a loose network of gifted people spread across Europe. The fact that most of the gifted had experienced trouble because of their talents created bonds with others like them, and they helped each other as needed.

“Not far now to the British embassy,” Moreau said, speaking around the clay pipe stem clamped between his teeth.

Tamsyn gazed at the tall houses that loomed on both sides of the street. One of her gifts was sensing emotions. Often she kept that ability tamped down because the feelings of others could be overwhelming, but today she was deliberately listening to the city around her. “Paris seems very tense,” she said thoughtfully. “Most people worry about the coming war, but others find the prospect exciting. I feel a desire to fight and triumph over France’s enemies.”

“The First Consul has a gift for inspiration,” Moreau said gruffly. “For making men, especially young ones, feel that it is France’s destiny to rule all of Europe and beyond.”

“Do women share the lust for conquest?” she asked.

“Some do. Most don’t. Men who have seen war usually prefer peace.” He pulled his pipe from his mouth and spat over the side of the carriage.

She realized that he’d lost someone close to him in the earlier wars. His brother, perhaps?

“France is a mountain of tinder waiting for the spark to set it afire,” Cade said. He and Tamsyn shared a glance. That was why they were here, after all.

The carriage turned into a wider street, revealing a rather shabby mansion surrounded by a high stone wall topped with iron spikes. The British flag flying on the gatehouse identified the property as the embassy.

The gatehouse was manned by a pair of British soldiers. They swung the gates open so a heavily loaded wagon could exit the embassy compound.

“The delegation is obviously packing up and pulling out.” Tamsyn surveyed the mansion. “Not very impressive for a British embassy.”

“For years there was no British embassy in France,” Cade explained. “After the peace treaty was signed, both countries took their time establishing diplomatic relations, so Whitworth didn’t arrive in Paris until this past December. Rhys said there was a rush to find a walled estate within the city, and this was the best available at the time.”

“If they’ve been here for less than six months, they probably hadn’t even finished unpacking, and now they’re leaving,” Tam observed. “We live in uncertain times.”

After the wagon lumbered away, Moreau drove to the gatehouse. Cade showed his Home Office credentials to the sergeant in charge, who studied the document carefully before waving them through the gates.

Another wagon was parked in front of the embassy entrance and more boxes were being carried to it and packed. Moreau pulled up behind the wagon and said laconically, “I’ll wait here for a bit.”

Cade nodded thanks and stepped from the carriage, then turned to help Tamsyn to the ground. After he wielded the heavy knocker, they were admitted into a large reception room that was in a state of controlled chaos. Embassy servants were carrying in boxes and trunks, and eight or ten well-dressed men were pacing about anxiously and muttering to each other.

Tamsyn’s gaze went to the group of men. They were all British and desperate to get official passports signed by the ambassador and a high French official so they could leave France swiftly and without complications. She’d seen that sort of passport, and the engravings and signatures were very impressive, but she had a sense that the documents wouldn’t be half as much use to the men as they hoped.

They were approached by a brisk official with an air of command. He had a military bearing and was a few years older than Cade. “I’m Mr. Holland, the ambassador’s private secretary. Do you have business here? This is not a good time for courtesy calls.”

“We’re here because it isn’t a good time.” Cade showed their credentials. When they traveled together, they had a variety of documents, some of which made it appear they were a married couple. People who assumed that were inclined to underestimate Tamsyn. Which was often useful.

“We need to speak with Lord Whitworth as soon as possible,” Cade said.

Holland handed back his credentials and beckoned a young clerk over. “Murray, take the lady and gentleman up to his lordship’s office.”

One of the waiting men said in a surly voice, “Why can they see the ambassador when we’ve been waiting for our passports for hours?”

“These visitors have other business with Lord Whitworth,” Mr. Holland said sternly. “Be patient. The passports will be ready soon.”

“They damned well better be!” another man growled. “I need to get my family to safety before it’s too late!”

“We have been encouraging Britons to return to England for some time now,” Mr. Holland said in a cool voice. “You should have listened rather than waiting this long.”

There was more muttering, but no further protests. After Holland gestured for the visitors to go upstairs, Tam wondered why so many people lacked common sense. It had been clear to anyone who paid attention that the peace would be short-lived, but the giddy delights of Paris had made fools of too many Britons.

They paused outside the door of the ambassador’s office, where Tam did some hasty tweaking of Cade’s coat and cravat. “After making the fastest possible journey from Cornwall to Paris, we’re barely presentable,” she said. “We’ll have to rely on our persuasive powers rather than our appearances.”

“Luckily, you can persuade any male to do anything,” Cade said as the clerk knocked twice, then opened the door.

“Visitors for you, my lord,” the clerk announced.

A distracted voice inside the office said, “Yes?”

Taking that as permission, Cade ushered Tamsyn inside. Lord Whitworth was about fifty and as handsome as his reputation promised. He had been signing papers but laid his quill aside. “Should I know you, sir?”

“We’ve not met, my lord, but we were sent here by the Home Office,” Cade replied. “I’m Cade Tremayne and this is Lady Tamsyn Tremayne.”

The ambassador collected several documents and handed them to the young clerk. “That’s enough passport signing for now, Murray. Take them downstairs and distribute them to the men waiting. I’ll do the rest shortly.”

After the clerk accepted the passports and left, Whitworth said, “I know Lord Tremayne, of course, and the work his people do.” He studied them both. “The reputation of the Tribe of Tremayne is excellent, but why are you here?”

“To protect you and your lady wife, my lord,” Tamsyn r. . .