Joanna Maitland - His Forbidden Liaison

The Aikenhead Honours

Three gentlemen spies: bound by duty, undone by women!

Introducing three of England’s

most eligible bachelors:

Dominic, Leo and Jack

code-named Ace, King, Knave

Together they are

The Aikenhead Honours

A government-sponsored spying ring,

they risk their lives, and hearts,

to keep Regency England safe!

Follow these three brothers on a dazzling

journey through Europe and beyond as they

serve their country and meet their brides, in

often very surprising circumstances!

Meet the ‘Ace’, Dominic Aikenhead,

Duke of Calder, in

HIS CAVALRY LADY

Meet the ‘King’ and renowned rake

Lord Leo Aikenhead, in

HIS RELUCTANT MISTRESS

Meet the ‘Knave’ and incorrigible playboy

Lord Jack Aikenhead, in

HIS FORBIDDEN LIAISON

‘Keep your distance,’ Marguerite hissed, ‘or I warn you, I shall scream.’

Jack lunged for her, pulling her close against his body so that she could not strike him, and clamped his large hand across her mouth.

‘You waited too long, ma’am. Don’t be afraid. I will let you go, but only if you promise not to scream. And if you tell me what you have done to Herr Benn.’

She responded by sinking her teeth into the fleshy part of his thumb.

‘Argh!’ he gasped, instinctively pulling his hand away. She was still pressed firmly to his chest, but she was opening her mouth to scream at the top of her lungs.

There was no help for it. He kissed her.

Joanna Maitlandwas born and educated in Scotland, though she has spent most of her adult life in England or abroad. She has been a systems analyst, an accountant, a civil servant, and director of a charity. Now that her two children have left home, she and her husband have moved from Hampshire to the Welsh Marches, where she is revelling in the more rugged country and the wealth of medieval locations. When she is not writing, or climbing through ruined castles, she devotes her time to trying to tame her house and garden, both of which are determined to resist any suggestion of order. Readers are invited to visit Joanna’s website at www.joannamaitland.com

Recent novels by the same author:

A POOR RELATION

A PENNILESS PROSPECT

MARRYING THE MAJOR

RAKE’S REWARD

MY LADY ANGEL

AN UNCOMMON ABIGAIL

(in A Regency Invitation anthology)

BRIDE OF THE SOLWAY

HIS CAVALRY LADY*

HIS RELUCTANT MISTRESS*

* The Aikenhead Honours

MILLS & BOON ®

www.millsandboon.co.uk

‘You still look a bit groggy,’ Ben murmured.

Jack shook his head. Now that he was safely on dry land again, he would soon recover from his confounded seasickness. More important was to stop Ben from betraying them, before their mission had even begun. Jack risked a quick glance over his shoulder. The port of Marseilles was crowded with people, but no one was close enough to have overheard Ben’s unwary use of English.

Jack dropped an arm around Ben’s shoulders, for all the world as if he needed his friend’s support for his shaky legs. ‘No English,’ he hissed into Ben’s ear. Then, switching to French, he began to bemoan the state of his health in a voice that was loud enough to be heard by anyone within twenty yards. Jack’s French, learnt from his French mama, the Dowager Duchess of Calder, was flawless. He was able to pass for a Parisian without any trouble. Whereas Ben’s French, though pretty fluent, had a definite foreign accent that might make him suspect. To avoid that, they had agreed, before leaving Vienna, that Ben would pretend to be a German.

It was still a hugely dangerous mission that the Duke of Wellington had given to these two members of the Aikenhead Honours spying band. From Marseilles on the Mediterranean coast, Jack and Ben were to travel slowly north to Paris and thence to Calais, gathering information as they went about the extent of rebellious feeling in the country. Wellington was very concerned that the restored French King’s harsh rule was provoking unrest, especially among ex-members of the army. He needed to know just how many Frenchmen would be ready to agitate for Bonaparte’s return and where rebellion was most likely to occur. In Wellington’s view, the strip of water dividing France from the island of Elba, Bonaparte’s place of exile, was not nearly wide enough.

Jack slumped down on to a bollard by the water’s edge. His legs really were wobbly. Why on earth was he, alone among the Aikenhead Honours, cursed with seasickness? Ben looked much frailer than Jack, but he had not had a moment’s unease during their voyage. Jack—broader, heavier and much more robust in appearance—had collapsed almost before the ship had left Genoa harbour. It was shaming.

A barefoot sailor scampered nimbly down the gangplank with a valise in each hand. Spying the two young passengers who had been so generous to the crew during their voyage, he hurried along the quayside and deposited the bags at Jack’s feet. Jack looked up. The sailor was waiting expectantly.

‘Give the man some money, Benn,’ Jack said, in French, using the nom de guerre they had been using since leaving Vienna. Ben, Baron Dexter, had become Herr Christian Benn and Lord Jack Aikenhead had become Mr Louis Jacques.

Ben dug into his pocket. ‘I have no French francs,’ he said, in French, staring down at the coins in his hand. ‘But you might not want those anyway, I suppose.’ He picked out a silver coin from Genoa and offered it to the sailor, who grinned and tested it with his few remaining teeth.

‘Thank ye, sir,’ the sailor said, and pocketed it before running back on board.

‘Good,’Jack said in a low voice. ‘I think we carried that off well enough. But now we must be doubly careful. All the crew on the ship were Italians. They had no way of knowing whether you were a Frenchman or not. But here, many ears will be listening. Take care.’

Ben nodded. ‘If I think there is danger, I can always pretend to be mute.’

‘Good idea,’ Jack said, rising to his feet. His legs were feeling stronger now. He should be able to walk more or less normally. ‘If needs must, you shall be my slow-witted travelling companion, who can barely speak and who needs me to look after him as we travel.’ Jack grinned. ‘Actually, that seems remarkably appropriate in the circumstances, don’t you think?’

Ben grinned back and threw a mock punch at Jack’s midriff, though they both knew that Jack was much too quick on his feet to be caught.

Jack sidestepped neatly. ‘My dear Herr Benn,’ he said, ‘you will have to do better than that if you are to catch me. And now, as you are the junior partner in this enterprise, and also the one who is touched in the upper works, I suggest you pick up the bags and bring them.’

Ben spluttered a protest, but he was too late. Jack was already striding off past the Hôtel deVille in the direction of one of the harbour inns. Ben had no choice but to pick up both their bags and follow.

After twenty yards, Jack stopped, turned and waited for his friend. Ben was not used to acting the servant. Back home in England, as heir to his grandfather, Viscount Hoarwithy, he was used to being waited on hand and foot. That would not be possible here in France, for they had both left their servants invigorate. It was too dangerous to do otherwise. On the road to Genoa, they had relied on inn servants, but here in France, they might well have to shift for themselves. It would be only fair to break Ben in gently to the new routine.