“What?” Sir Alfred appeared genuinely perplexed by this development. “Why on earth would she do a silly thing like that?”

Alec practically quivered from the strain of holding back. How could the man not see how very medieval this all was? But then, perhaps he simply couldn’t. Had the apoplexy affected his mind as well? Rafe must have sensed that his self-control was quickly fraying because he immediately came beside him.

“Sorry to hear your lovely niece has escaped your clutches,” Rafe began, droll as ever, “but I’d like to say that it is a pleasure, Sir Alfred. One doesn’t often get to meet a legend in the flesh.”

Alec exhaled. Thank God for Rafe and his ability to defuse any situation.

Sir Alfred narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but insipid flattery had always been his weakness. “And you are?”

“Rafe Davies,” he said with a grand bow. “Intelligence officer.”

Sir Alfred grunted. “You’re the Earl of Fairfield’s bastard?”

“No sir,” Rafe replied with staggering politeness. “I’m the legitimate offspring from his second marriage.”

“Ah. He married that actress, didn’t he?” Sir Alfred cast him a dubious look.

“Yes, to the great regret of nearly everyone in his life.” Rafe smiled broadly. “But I’m here on Crown business. Someone has been selling valuable information to our enemies, and the leak has been traced to you.” He leveled the charge so plainly that it took a moment for the words to sink in.

Sir Alfred’s frown deepened to confusion. “I haven’t a damned idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, well, be that as it may, the charge still stands. I’ve also taken the liberty of alerting the police. They should be here shortly.” Rafe raised an eyebrow at Alec’s surprise. “What? Surely holding one’s niece against her will is breaking some sort of law.”

Sir Alfred huffed. “Wetherby, what do you know about this leak business?” Alec had nearly forgotten about the secretary. He was still standing near the doorway but had gone even paler than before. Sir Alfred gestured to him. “He has been handling all of my correspondence for months now.”

“Months?” Alec and Rafe both said in unison. If that included intelligence dispatches, it was a huge breach in protocol. The protocol Sir Alfred had always insisted upon.

“I couldn’t manage it the way I had been,” he now blustered. “But Wetherby said he developed a system to keep the information secure.”

Alec inhaled sharply. Lottie. “No, he didn’t, sir. He used Lottie to decode the dispatches for himself. Then sold the information.” Alec turned sharply to face him. “Didn’t you?”

Wetherby held up his hands. “You can’t prove a thing. Not without implicating her.”

“What?” Sir Alfred roared from the bed. “You—you duplicitous rat! Treasonous coward!” As he spoke, he turned so red that Alec worried he would have another apoplexy.