Alix and the Spy

Chapter Two

Suffolk, England

1825

A few hours later

The rain was beating down viciously, and Colin nursed a warm brandy at the table, looking out at the stormy weather through the inn window.

            Looking away from the rather depressing outside, he took in the atmosphere and the people of the inn. The patrons inside were mainly men, many still in their warm travelling cloaks, some trailing rain water. They were hunched over their drinks, conversing in low voices, but everyone was relaxed and content, at least for the moment.

            It was hard to imagine that just a few hours ago, Colin had been threatening an international smuggler with a gun, after which said smuggler had been hauled off in chains by a guard of no less than a dozen agents of the crown. Colin had been allowed to stay behind in Suffolk for a while more, having already done his part, and he had been forced to seek shelter in the inn from the weather.

            No one else here would ever be in that position he had been in a few hours ago, he mused, as he took another mouthful of the brandy. After today, they would continue on their journeys, either to the city, or to their country estates, where they would live their lives in perfect normalcy and oblivion of secret state matters. After today, Colin would take his horse and ride back to London, where he would report to his superiors and attend a family ball. Soon, there would be another case, and he would handle it with the same professionalism and effectiveness as he had with Dominique Bastion.

            He far from regretted the life he had chosen, but sometimes it would be nice to forget responsibilities to his country for a while, and simply enjoy life, taking things as they came. He was seven-and-twenty, and he had seen things men older than him had not seen. He had done things most men would never do, and he was rather tired.

            But the state came first. He had to remember that. Shifting in his seat, he realized the last drops of brandy had disappeared, so he gestured towards the inn owner. The owner nodded, and within minutes, a barmaid had appeared at Colin’s side, and was sliding another drink towards him.

            She was rather pretty, he noticed, with blonde hair and large, blue eyes, and an impressive bosom, which a man – or anyone, for that matter – could not fail to notice. He certainly did not, and he flashed her a charming grin, which she responded to with a wink.

            Taking a hold of his drink, Colin nodded towards her, suddenly knowing who would be warming his inn bed that night. Barmaids were nice to dally with; they were no innocents, and they knew what the gentlemen were offer, never expecting more.

            After she had left his table, he stretched out his legs, and went back to staring at the weather raging outside. He found himself thinking of the family ball he was obliged to attend upon his return to London. The War Office would not need him for another few weeks, likely, and his part in the Bastion case was nearly over. He had not seen his family in a while, having been busy pursuing Bastion across Europe, and he wondered whether they would be much change.

            Likely not; his father would be as aloof and detached from his as usual, his mother would be too occupied with her eight corgis to notice him, Ralph would mildly inquire after his long absence, then drop it just as easily. Colin would stay in his rented apartments as before, and see his family just occasionally. His brother he was willing to interact with more, but his parents were better in small doses. They had never been particularly fond of him, and he had never been particularly fond of them.