And he remembered what Billie had said, just two nights earlier.

He looked Lord Arbuthnot in the eye and said, “If my brothers are going to risk their lives for King and Country, then by God, I am going to make sure it’s a good King and Country. And that does not include carrying messages I do not know the meaning of to people I do not trust.”

Arbuthnot regarded him soberly. “Do you not trust me?”

“I am furious that you came to my home.”

“I am a friend of your father’s, Lord Kennard. My presence here is hardly suspect. And that wasn’t what I asked you. Do you not trust me?”

“Do you know, Lord Arbuthnot, I don’t think it matters.”

And it didn’t. George had no doubt that Arbuthnot had fought—and continued to fight, in his own way—for his country. For all that George was furious that he’d been subjected to the War Office’s version of an initiation rite, he knew that if Arbuthnot asked him to do something, it would be a legitimate request.

But he also knew—now, at last, he knew—that he was not the right man for the job. He would have made a fine soldier. But he was a better steward of the land. And with Billie by his side, he would be excellent.

He would be getting married soon. Very soon, if he had anything to do with it. He had no business running around like some sort of spy, risking his life without fully knowing why.

“I will serve in my own way,” he said to Arbuthnot.

Arbuthnot sighed, his mouth twisting with resignation. “Very well. I thank you for your assistance last night. I do realize that it disrupted your evening.”

George thought that he might have finally got through to him, but then Arbuthnot said, “I have just one more request, Lord Kennard.”

“No,” George tried to say.

“Hear me out,” Arbuthnot interrupted. “I swear to you, I would not ask if the situation were not so critical. I have a packet that needs to go to a posting inn in Kent. On the coast. Not far from your home, I should think.”

“Stop,” George began.

“No, please, allow me to finish. If you do this, I promise I shall not bother you again. I will be honest, there is some danger involved. There are men who know it is coming, and they will wish to stop it. But these are documents of vital importance.” And then Arbuthnot went in for the kill. “It could even save your brother.”

Arbuthnot was good, George would give him that. He did not believe for a second that this Kent-bound packet had anything to do with Edward, and he still almost blurted his assent the moment the general had stopped talking.

“I’m not your man,” he said quietly.

That should have been the end of it.

It would have been the end of it, but then the door slammed open and there, standing in the doorway, eyes shining with reckless purpose, was Billie.