He's the only one who sees beneath her disguise- now all he has to do is slip her out of it.

Lady Aimsbridge isn't at all what she seems- which is helpful, as not seeming like herself is her entire job. All she needs is a little more time so she can free herself from a contract with The Office, the queen's secret organization of henchmen, assassins, and spies. Moreover, she can free herself from Benjamin Havisham, her dangerous spymaster, because every time she reports to him, she falls a little more in love.

Benjamin isn't a fool. He knows what lies beneath Lady Aimsbridge's fat girth and purple hair. But as much as he desires the Celeste Fischer who inhabits her skin, he can't have her. She's his employee, and The Office will have him deported or killed if he doesn't toe their strict lines. Besides, no one in his occupation could reasonably expect to enjoy either a long life or happiness.

Is love possible when government agencies, villains, and newly-discovered fathers are set against a match? Victorian London has never been so dangerous.

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