Tempting the Scoundrel (The Seven Curses of London Book 5) by Lana Williams

Author:Lana Williams [Williams, Lana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lana Williams
Published: 2017-08-21T18:00:00+00:00

~*~

Elliott braced himself as he entered the brothel on Church Street late that evening. It didn’t matter that this was a more refined establishment, catering only to lords and diplomats of a certain status. It was still a brothel.

In his younger days, he might’ve enjoyed the amenities offered but the more he visited these the less tempted he was. This evening was no exception.

He had lingered in the lower rooms of brothels often enough to realize few of the women were pleased to be there. He knew Prime Minister Gladstone made a habit of walking the streets at night to convince prostitutes to find a new way of life.

Elliott wondered if something more could be done to help. While these women were perhaps more fortunate than their counterparts who worked on the streets, they were still prostitutes. He would mention it to Gladstone when next they met.

As he waited for the madam, concerns over his grandmother tugged at him, along with the memory of the expression on Sophia’s face as she’d bid him good evening. He often felt torn when his duties took him away, but tonight was far worse.

His previous meetings had raised additional concerns, hence his visit to the brothel. Several sources pointed here. The madam had been recruited to assist in collecting intelligence three years ago and had proven helpful, especially with the diplomats who visited her establishment. Men often bragged of their activities after a drink or two in mixed company, despite the delicacy of said activities.

The décor was exactly as one might imagine, red velvet drapes, gold and crystal chandeliers, and touches of dark mahogany. Ostentatious was all Elliott could think as he waited in the drawing room.

The woman who escorted him into the room had poured him a drink, but he refrained from drinking. Remembering Codwell’s words, he avoided pouring it into the plant and dumped a good share into a vase of flowers instead.

With luck, the madam would be forthcoming with information, and he could share it with his contacts and return home within the hour. He shook his head. Since when had he become an optimist? It would take at least two hours before he was done with all this.

Guilt flooded him. The matters he’d uncovered could not be dismissed lightly. Innocent lives were involved, yet all he could think of was how long it would take before he could go home.

Perhaps he was no longer the best person for this position. Spying was a dirty business. Few of his peers were willing to admit it was needed let alone participate. The government was loath to fund intelligence work. At some point, more formal action needed to be taken, starting with the Queen.

For now, Her Majesty preferred to think of those in the Intelligence Office as loyal men who happened to come across the information they collected rather than actively gathering it. ‘Spying’ was a term to be avoided. Thankfully Gladstone understood the situation and found a way to pay those working

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