“And you, Lady Wycliff,” Lord Castlereagh added, “have snared one of the keenest minds in Britain. I trust you won’t object if I keep your husband in my employ for a while longer, until we win the war. We can’t do without him. Boney would be ruling the world by now if not for heroes like Wycliff.”
“I am hardly a hero,” Lucian said dryly.
“You’re far too modest, sir. And I believe March would argue strenuously with that.” Castlereagh turned to Brynn. “He saved the Earl of March last spring from the Frogs-stole him right out of their damned jaws at considerable risk to his own skin. You should persuade your husband to tell you about his adventures sometime.”
Brynn raised an eyebrow. “I fear my husband doesn’t share his secrets with me.”
“Wise, I suppose. Loose lips have been known to change the course of history-and not for the better. But since Wycliff won’t allow himself to be lauded, I must. I cannot tell you how thankful I am to have him on our side. I wish I could have a dozen of him.”
Such praise did not come lightly, Brynn was certain, and it strongly renewed her curiosity about the depth of Lucian’s involvement with the war effort.
It was only when they were driving home, however, that Brynn had the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity a small measure. She could barely see Lucian sitting beside her; the carriage lamps were unlit, leaving his perfect profile in shadow.
She studied him silently a moment before venturing to ask the question that had been burning in her mind ever since hearing Lord Castlereagh’s praise. “What do you actually do for the Foreign Office?”
“Whatever needs to be done,” Lucian answered cryptically.
“Including risking your life?”
“Rarely that.”
“The Foreign Secretary obviously disagrees. Castlereagh called you a hero. And I know Raven considers you one.”
“Raven is somewhat biased,” he replied, his tone dry.
“But you still took a risk in rescuing Lord March.”
“I was merely doing my duty.”
Brynn shook her head. “Few noblemen would consider it their duty to work for the government- or work, period. I wonder how you became involved in such an endeavor.”
Lucian turned to gaze at her in the darkness. “Do you want the polite version or the honest truth?”
“The truth, please.”
“To be frank, I was bored with my wicked life.”
He let that sink in before adding lightly, “There was nothing heroic about my decision. I was raised in privilege and ease and came into my inheritance young-my parents succumbed to a fever while traveling abroad just after I reached my majority, leaving me with more wealth than I knew how to spend. My greatest victories were winning at faro or wagering on a horse race. For a long time I felt…”
Lucian hesitated as if searching for the right words. “I felt something missing in myself. I scarcely knew or cared what was happening to Europe. And then six years ago, my closest friend was killed in a naval battle, fighting the French. His death made me realize there was more to life than choosing what tailor I should patronize or which entertainments I should attend in an evening.”
Brynn could hear the pain in his voice at losing his friend, as well as his self-condemnation.
Lucian’s tone was quieter, more reflective when he continued. “I offered my services to the government, thinking the occupation would help to fill the days… the emptiness. But it became much more. I finally found a worthy challenge,” he said softly. “A sense of purpose. Whatever I’ve risked, I have gained far more.”
Brynn was taken aback to hear him sharing such confidences with her. Perhaps it was due to the darkness, or to the truce they had declared between them, but Lucian was actually divulging something intimate about himself.
She digested his admission in silence. Evidently she owed him a sincere apology. She’d thought him a rake and a wastrel, when he was really risking his life saving others. She’d accused him of neglecting her when he had had matters of national importance at stake.
The remembrance made her feel rather… small. A sense of regret pierced Brynn for the petty resentment she had felt toward Lucian these past weeks.
“I didn’t realize,” she said quietly, “that what you were doing was so… vital.”
Lucian shrugged. “I haven’t exactly been forthcoming.”
“Is that why you left me on our wedding night? Because of your work? ”
His gaze found hers in the dim light. “Yes. Believe me, nothing else could have dragged me away that night.” He paused. “Had I better explained the reason, would you have forgiven me?”