Choosing Love Over Honor [Agents of the Crown #2]

Chapter 11

One week into their poking around London for information, and Lionel was already beginning to get antsy. Every day without fail, both he and Lucan had convened in either his apartment or Lucan's townhouse library, to pore over the information they had got so far from digging up the old archives of the Agents, or from Lacey's feeding of information to them. From what she, as well as her friends, had managed to gather, a few more boys had disappeared recently, but as far as the three of them could tell, there was nothing worth noting to steal coming to town, quite unlike what had happened over a year ago.

"Maybe he just wants to get prepared for a sudden change?" Lucan suggested, that rainy evening as they nursed their glasses of whisky, worn out after a whole day of studying information. 

Slumped in the armchair of Lucan's library, Lionel gave an irritated growl. "Can't we just get in the East End, storm his place and be done with it already?"

"As much as I want to, that is exactly what Fabian would call a 'rash action', and why he had his misgivings when he left just the two of us to work this case." Lucan wryly laughed, leaning forward again to look at the various books they had spread out, all with notes jotted down. 

"We've been at this for a week and we still can't get a pinpoint on his exact location," Lionel growled, when a sudden idea made him pause, and then grin. "But I may have a solution."

---

Two weeks later

"Do you think Lottie's alright, Fabian?" 

The young duke looked up from where he was perusing a missive from one of his tenants, his eyes softening upon the figure of his very pregnant, very worn out looking wife on their large four poster bed. Elle was due any day now, and Fabian was never more then five steps away from her. At her words, he readily dropped the letter and strode over to her side, taking a seat on the bed next to her.

"What makes you say that, darling?' his voice was impossibly tender as he picked her small hand up in his, squeezing it softly.

"She's been looking.... well, forlorn, for lack of a better word." Elle murmured, smiling when he twined her fingers with hers. 

He for one, didn't notice anything different in his sister ever since she had come back from the quarantine period at the Foundling House, but then again his wife had always been more perceptive over these things, so he decided to take her word for it. "Do you want me to speak to her, then?"

Elle furrowed her brows, and as she scrunched her eyes up, Fabian chortled, always amused by his wife's thinking face.

10 seconds later, however, all thoughts of Elle's worry over Charlotte was dashed out of Fabian's mind when Elle hunched over her rounded belly with a low moan.

"Elle? Darling? What's the matter?" Fabian jumped up, panic raising his voice.

"I..." she gasped, taking in a deep breathe. "I've been having these all day, but I was thinking they were really no-" she gasped again, her whole body tensing. Fabian felt his blood rush out of his face as he noticed the dampness seeping on their bed almost at the same time as Elle did.

"I think we're about to meet our baby, Your Grace."

---

Despite it being way past midnight, Charlotte was wide awake, with the whole Avondale household in a rush. Maids rushed back and forth with cloth, warm water and everything else the midwife asked for, while the hallway to her brother's bedroom was kept clear of anything that could impede the ways of the servants. Charlotte herself had practically taken up residence in the couch of the sitting room two doors down the room where Elle was currently screaming her lungs out. The only time she had gotten out of the couch was when her mother had arrived by carriage, never mind it had been midnight when the Dowager Duchess was announced.