"Faster. Faster!" pleaded Italian opera singer Carmella. She gave a contented sound which was half a moan and half a scream as her plea for riding her faster was fulfilled.Antony wished he was anywhere but here.

This was the part he hated the most in his job. Antony's co-workers envied him assuming his part was a piece of cake, for all he had to do was attend balls and socialise with the upper class of the town.

"Yes... yes... yes! Feels so good!" moaned Carmella, in her angelic voice.

Antony's co-workers didn't envy him just for the extensive list of parties he attended; he had several opportunities for seeing the naked form of Camelia who had the body that would make the Aphrodite jealous.

Yet, right now Antony would gladly put his hands to his ears and recite 'la la la' at the top of his voice just to drown all the moaning and mulling she made.

"Oh! Lord!" screamed Carmella as he hit her climax.

"Done, already? But I want more," said Lord Marcus Paulen.

"Yes, please," pleaded Carmella.

Hearing his best friend, Antony winced. Lord Marcus Paulen, Earl of Bentwood was Antony's one and only best friend. Friends they might be, Antony didn't want to witness Marcus unravel his sexual prowess.

Antony hastened to check for potential hiding spots. He had received intel that Carmella held confidential information about the French activity. Antony had to steal the information.

'Carmella' meant 'the garden' but unlike her name she was deadly. Last time when Antony was there, he nearly got poisoned. She had covered every surface with powdered manchineel - a deadly, poisonous plant that burns the skin and kills.

Antony worked as a spy for the British Intelligence Service. His job focussed on tactful espionage. The targets were usually the aristocats. He loved his job, he found pride in fighting for his country. Despite others who argued that he didn't do any actual fighting, Antony knew the real battle was fought within and not just on the battlefield. The only part he didn't like was witnessing his friend riding Carmella.

Carmella was thoroughly smitten with Marcus and was always oblivious to her surroundings when he was with her, a perfect window for Antony to search.

In Antony's defence he had tried to search her house on many other occasions, but it has always been heavily guarded. Twice Antony had gotten nearly killed. Involving Marcus was the only option he had. As much as he despised himself for doing so, he always searched Carmella's apartment when Marcus was of the attendance.

Antony found the documents he was looking for, he quickly ruffled through memorising everything. He combed through the place one more time in case he had missed any more documents. He restored everything to its place and removed any trace of his presence before exiting through the trap door.

Antony winced, as he felt something poke his legs sharply.

"Not again," he muttered silently. It was a shard of glass. He quickly consumed the antidote which he now carried with him all time.

Antony went straight to the house and quickly jot down the intel along with the decoded version. The General ought to be very happy with the findings. He then proceeded to the dropping point assigned for this mission.

"Are you spying on me?" Antony turned to find Marcus entering the gentlemen's club.

"As I reached here first, shouldn't I be asking you this question?" replied Antony.

Marcus had commented that Antony would make an excellent spy at least a hundred times completely oblivious to the fact that he already was one. The first time it happened Antony nearly choked and would have given the truth away. His employment terms clearly stated that even his immediate family cannot know that he works for the agency. And Antony knew well that the general would flay him alive if he ever let slip. So he kept silent and turned it into a joke every time Marcus commented about being a spy.

Marcus chuckled and said, "I have better things to do than spy on a boring person like you. Did you finally change your mind about joining the club?"

"No, I am here to meet Mr. Cavender to hand him his Lease."

Antony's cover was that he was a land agent. A perfect alibi to visit various aristocrats. He handed documents to Mr. Cavender before joining Marcus for a drink.

"Will you be attending Sterling's Ball today?" asked Antony.

"No, the London season is getting extremely bland to my taste" commented Marcus.

"Don't tell me you have started looking for a bride!"

"No, I like my freedom and the perks of being a bachelor."

Marcus surely enjoyed the perks of being a bachelor. Antony has known him for ten years now. For all these years Marcus has never been without a mistress, sometimes more than one. He now has two mistresses; not counting Carmella.

Antony despised this particular behaviour of Marcus, but he couldn't blame Marcus alone. He was the heir to the richest dukedom and women threw themselves at him. Some women went to great lengths trying to seduce Antony to get close to Marcus. Marcus never made unwelcome advances. So Antony learned just to ignore and wished Marcus' future wife succeeded in what he as a friend had failed.

"You should start looking for a wife," countered Marcus after some time.

Antony knew whom he wanted as his wife, but that was impossible even in his dreams. They were never meant to be. He shook his head, not as an answer, but to get rid of her image from his mind.

"You are a twenty-seven-year-old celibate. How is that even humanly possible?"

"Just because you have difficulty keeping your breeches on all the time doesn't mean the rest of us can't."

But Marcus was not offended. He laughed good-naturedly and continued, "I could help you in that score, you know."

"Thanks. I will keep that in mind."

Marcus just chucked and shook his head.