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  She had vowed to never marry a man like her father, and yet it appeared she was following her mother’s example. Jonathan would abandon his wife and children just as her father had abandoned Mama, Sebastian, and her.

  Ben slanted a frown in her direction. “I wouldn’t have pegged Hackberry for a gentleman farmer. He does not strike me as a man content to remain in one place for long.”

  “He isn’t, but unfortunately he doesn’t intend to take me with him on his adventures.”

  Ben came to a sudden stop, interrupting her progress as well. He turned to face her. “Did he say he intended to leave you behind?” His incredulous tone vindicated her hurt feelings. For a time, she had worried she was being unreasonable.

  “He said it would be too dangerous.” Jonathan had also sworn he didn’t want to leave her, but she couldn’t believe he intended to give up his pursuits either.

  “Too dangerous? Balderdash.” Fire burned in Ben’s blue eyes. “Where do you want to go? Make a list. I will take you anywhere you like.”

  Eve’s heart gave a tiny leap before reality set in. Ben wouldn’t be taking her anywhere. She was engaged to another man. “What is this?” She wagged her finger back and forth between them. “Why are you offering to show me the world? Why has my betrothed burdened you with escorting me home? None of this makes sense.”

  “You are not a burden, Evie.”

  “Maybe not to you, but clearly Sir Jonathan thinks I am.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it was true. Something had happened between her and Jonathan over the last week. Something that should have distressed her, but instead caused a tiny spark of hope inside her to flicker to life. If Jonathan didn’t want her anymore, perhaps her future was not cast in stone after all.

  * * *

  Jonathan paced the floors of Viscount Margrave’s study; his bootfalls grew muffled when he reached the carpet. He hadn’t been kept waiting very long, but any delay was unacceptable. Finally, the polished oak door swung inward with no sound. The well-oiled hinges of the viscount’s door were a testament to his attention to detail. It had probably kept him alive all this time as a spy for the Regent’s Consul.

  “We were followed today,” Jonathan blurted before Margrave could greet him.

  The viscount sighed and sauntered to the sideboard to pour a drink. Margrave’s training showed in the way he moved, like a large and dangerous cat on the prowl. “I told you, Armstrong is harmless. Ben won’t keep the investigator on a retainer long if there is nothing to report, so continue to do nothing suspicious and the matter will take care of itself.”

  “It wasn’t your friend’s man, and I do not think you heard me correctly. We were followed. Miss Thorne, her maid, and me. Then again after the lecture.”

  “This isn’t good.” Margrave frowned before taking a sip of his drink.

  “Really? You think it is a bad sign?” Jonathan rarely resorted to sarcasm to make a point, but this situation called for it. In fact, it called for a brandy. Or scotch. He wasn’t fussy. Moving to the sideboard, he poured a drink for himself since the viscount hadn’t volunteered to do it.

  Margrave leaned an elbow against the sideboard, studying him with that unnerving intensity he had. “Do you know who followed you?”

  “I didn’t recognize the man, but he was not very accomplished. Miss Thorne spotted him with no difficulty. It’s hard to believe he would be a member of the Home Office.”

  Occasionally, the Home Office mistook the group of elite spies, of which Jonathan was a member, for enemies, and even though the HO agents did not pose much threat to the Consul, they were not bunglers.

  “I almost came to fisticuffs with a couple of soldiers today, thanks to the man’s ineptitude.” Admittedly, Jonathan’s attempt to distract Miss Thorne would not go down in history as his most brilliant move. “I had to invoke the code word for submission. Otherwise, it came down to ruining my cover or taking a beating.”

  “Mangold.” The viscount chuckled and sipped his drink.

  A mangold beet was a member of the Beta plant genus. Beta was the second letter in the Greek alphabet, below Alpha. In the world of soldiers and spies, a beta was of a lower rank and expected to obey his superior. “Miss Thorne looked at me as if I belong in Bedlam,” Jonathan said.

  “Of course she did. What sane man shouts out random vegetables? If she was even familiar with the term.”

  “Unfortunately, she was.” Heat seared his face and he moved away from his colleague before he made note of the blushing. The Prince and his cronies must have been foxed when they created their ridiculous codes.

  “Huh.” Margrave moved to a chair adjacent to the unlit fireplace and dropped into it. “Ben didn’t say anything about hiring another man, but I agree he couldn’t be from the Home Office if he was detected with no trouble.”

  Unless someone wanted to prove Jonathan was an easier target when he was out in Society. The night of his and Eve’s betrothal ball, Farrin, his commander, had sent three men to waylay him in Covent Garden. They received their fair share of lumps in the process of surprising him, but Farrin’s message was delivered. Jonathan had orders to travel to Egypt to eradicate an enemy to the Crown, orders he could not refuse.

  Jonathan hadn’t known what to do about Miss Thorne. He’d considered carrying through with the marriage, then setting her up in the country until his duties were fulfilled, but he had been worried about leaving her alone. Ben Hillary presented a more reasonable solution that Jonathan believed would make Miss Thorne happier in the end. Hillary’s offer of a ship had helped keep Farrin at bay for a while too. Once Hillary and Miss Thorne were married, everyone would believe Jonathan left England to lick his wounds in private. His commander had agreed it was a perfect cover story, but perhaps Farrin was growing impatient.

  Margrave drummed his slender fingers against his glass. “I could ask Ben if he hired a different investigator.”

  “I do not think Hillary had anything to do with it. He was with us after the lecture.” Hoping to capture the man for questioning, Jonathan had followed Miss Thorne and Mr. Hillary after they left Gunter’s, but there was no more sign of the man. Jonathan shook his head. “Besides, you know Hillary and I have reached an agreement where Miss Thorne is concerned.”

  “A wise choice given your profession.” Margrave’s frosty glare spoke volumes on his opinion of Jonathan’s attempt to live a regular life. “Have you made progress with Miss Thorne?”

  Jonathan shrugged before gulping his drink. The smoky liquid seared his tongue and throat, leaving them slightly numb and tingly. “I believe so, but it hasn’t been difficult to discourage her and aim her in Hillary’s direction. She holds a tendre for him still.”

  Margrave grinned. “You sound sulky.”

  “Sod off. I do not.” Perhaps his pride suffered some bruising knowing his betrothed preferred another man, but it was for the best. “Aren’t I allowed a moment to wallow?”

  “Do whatever you like.” Margrave pulled his watch from his pocket. “Just do it quickly. I have somewhere to be this evening.”

  “I returned to England with the intention of getting out of this business. Napoleon is no longer a threat, so why won’t Farrin set me free? I have served my country.”

  Very well, perhaps he was whining a bit. Jonathan had known when he was recruited for the Prince’s elite group of spies there would only ever be one way out.

  Margrave smirked. “You don’t want freedom any more than I do. It is what we know. What else would you do with your time?”

  “I don’t know. Marry the perfect lady, attend balls, fill a nursery. All the things normal gentlemen do.”

  When Margrave’s brows lifted, Jonathan ignored the insinuation. He may not be normal, but he could still desire a conventional life.

  “You cannot dance. Why would you care about attending balls?” The viscount’s gaze ran up
and down Jonathan, assessing. “You don’t want out.” His bald statement rankled.

  “How the hell do you know what I want?”

  “You did not abandon your cover. You have no friends or acquaintances, beyond a childhood association with Lady Norwick. You could have returned as your true self, but instead you chose to play the role of absentminded Sir Jonathan: drumming enthusiast, archaeologist, and clumsy oaf.”

  “I’m not that clumsy,” Jonathan grumbled, then drained his glass.

  “My point exactly.” Margrave’s shrewd eyes narrowed to slits. “What is it you want from me? I assume you came for a reason.”

  Jonathan had never asked the other man for anything. Beyond their early days training together, they’d had no contact until Margrave informed him Mr. Hillary had hired an investigator to follow him. Margrave wasn’t his friend, but Jonathan needed him all the same. “Ask around at the head office. Find out if Farrin is having me followed, and why.”

  “And I should assist you because…”

  “Mr. Hillary and Miss Thorne could be in danger, and I quite like them both.”

  Fifteen

  The next morning Eve found Sebastian with Helena and her sister in the sitting room. Gracie was holding two fingers to her head like horns and hopping up and down. Ever since Eve taught her to play charades, the young girl never seemed to tire of making everyone in the household guess what animal she was pretending to be.

  Dimples pierced Helena’s cheeks when she caught Eve’s eye, but she didn’t interrupt the game to offer a greeting. “Is it a goat?”

  Gracie’s arms flapped against her sides and she sighed in exasperation. “I am hopping, Helena. Do goats hop?”

  “It is a dancing goat,” Sebastian piped up, all grins.

  Gracie rolled her eyes. “Since when do goats dance? I’ve never seen one.”

  “You are too young to attend balls. Otherwise, you would know they do.” He winked at Eve. She warmed at his teasing tone, reminded of many such instances when he’d teased her as a girl.

  Gracie swung her head toward Eve as if seeking confirmation. Eve simply smiled and shrugged.

  “Very well, Bastian.” The girl’s hands landed on her hips. “Show me how a goat dances.”

  She had begun using Eve’s pet name for her brother not long ago, and from the way his eyes lit up, he loved it.

  “Only if you join me,” Sebastian said.

  Gracie giggled, warming up to his game. She held out her hands in invitation. “You will have to teach it to me.” Helena’s sister was an eager one, full of enthusiasm for learning any new skills. She had taken to horseback riding as if she’d been born in the sidesaddle, even though she’d never sat a horse until a couple of weeks ago.

  Eve slipped into a chair close to Helena, smiling. “Yes, give us a demonstration, Bastian. This should be enlightening.”

  His eyes twinkled with mischief as he rose from his place beside Helena on the settee and unbuttoned his jacket. He led Gracie to the middle of the room where they could move without hitting anything.

  Eve’s smile widened, knowing what would likely come next after years of living with her older brother.

  He bowed to Gracie. She curtsied. He held out his hand. She readily clasped his with a blinding smile. And then he was spinning and flinging her as she stumbled around, tripping over her feet. He caught her before she fell, never pausing in his made-up, chaotic dance. She squealed as he lifted and swung her in a circle. Gracie was laughing so hard she could barely catch a breath, and when he began kicking up his heels and bleating like a goat, she dissolved on the floor in a fit of giggles. Helena and Eve were laughing too. Sebastian never failed to put on a good show for the ladies.

  Gracie looked up at him with eyes shining. “I think I should like to go to a ball.”

  “Someday,” Helena promised, “but we’ll hire a real dance instructor to teach you before your coming out, although I daresay he will not be nearly as entertaining as our dear Sebastian.”

  Eve’s brother and sister-in-law exchanged an affectionate glance that made Eve’s heart ache. Her jovial smile slid from her face. Sir Jonathan never looked at her in such a way, nor did she think of him as her dear Jonathan. Perhaps if she didn’t know what it felt like to be in love, or she wasn’t faced with daily reminders of what a great love looked like, she could be content with what she and Jonathan had. Unfortunately, she had been in love once, and she couldn’t forget how wonderful it felt. She didn’t know what to do about her dilemma.

  Helena, ever sensitive to others’ moods, interrupted the lesson before Sebastian and Gracie could begin again. “I think Eve would like a moment of your time, darling.”

  Eve blinked in surprise. She hadn’t come seeking an audience with Sebastian, but at the mention of it, she realized it was time to ask him about Ben’s claim he had returned for her two years ago.

  Surprisingly, Gracie didn’t protest. Instead, she tipped her head to the side to study Eve, then gave one sharp nod of agreement. Helena put an arm around the girl’s shoulders and ushered her from the room.

  Once Eve and Sebastian were alone, he lowered to the settee again. “Is Helena correct? Is something troubling you?”

  She shrugged. It wasn’t like her to be shy or withhold information from Sebastian. He’d been her playmate when they were children and her champion for as long as she could remember. She had always trusted him. If he had kept her and Ben apart, she didn’t know how their relationship might change.

  Sebastian cleared his throat to gain her attention, then smiled patiently when she still couldn’t find the right words. “Does this have anything to do with Sir Jonathan?”

  “Not directly, no.” Taking a cleansing breath, Eve shifted toward him. She needed to see his face when she questioned him. She’d always been able to read her brother. “I need to ask you something. I do not mean any insult, but it has been eating at me. Ben said he came back for me on our wedding day and you turned him away. Is he telling the truth?”

  The muscles in Sebastian’s jaw shifted. Her mouth grew dry and her heart sped up. She recognized the haunted look in his eyes. He had been gazing at her the same way since Ben left. Suddenly, his drive to improve her standing in Society took on new meaning. He had a guilty conscience.

  Sebastian found a piece of lint on his trousers and trapped it between his thumb and finger. “I encountered Mr. Hillary near our street. He said he was headed to Thorne Place to beg an audience with you. I don’t know if he was being truthful.”

  “What did you say to him?”

  “It was three hours after he left you at the church. The gossips had begun spreading tales about you. I’m afraid there were a good many things I said that I shouldn’t repeat in a lady’s presence.”

  “Sebastian.” Her voice held a note of warning. She wouldn’t settle for evasive maneuvering. They were not playing a game of chess. “Did you challenge him like he said?”

  “I did.” Red flooded his face. “I’m afraid my temper got the better of me that day. I should have told you about the encounter sooner, but I didn’t see how telling you would change anything. Hillary was already gone. In retrospect, I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

  A trembling heat had begun to build as he spoke, making her quake. “You are sorry for keeping it from me? What about making decisions on my behalf and chasing away the man I loved? Or deciding my future without any consideration for what I wanted? Are you sorry for any of those things?”

  “Of course I am. I made a mistake, but I was only trying to protect you.”

  “I didn’t need protection.” She could abide most anything except being treated like a shrinking violet. After living with their father’s mercurial moods and being avoided like a leper over the last two years, Eve possessed more inner strength than many ladies her age. And more than some of her elders too. “I am not a weak-minded twi
t in need of smelling salts every time there is a crisis.”

  He pushed from the settee with a frustrated growl. “I know, but I do not feel any less responsible for you. You are my little sister. It is my duty to defend you.”

  “I didn’t need—”

  He held up a hand, interrupting. She bit her lip to keep from hurling unladylike words at him. “Maybe I misjudged the situation, although I daresay many gentlemen in similar circumstances would have challenged him too. After I’d gathered my wits about me, however, I realized I couldn’t kill the mongrel. You loved him.”

  Her brother’s account of events gave her pause. It didn’t fit with Ben’s version. “If you called off the duel, Ben wouldn’t have sailed to India.”

  Sebastian sighed. “I didn’t call off the duel, Evie. It doesn’t work that way. There were witnesses, and our seconds had been chosen. I had to make an appearance as a matter of honor.”

  “Men and their honor,” she said with a huff. “I think you use it as an excuse to behave like fools.”

  “Perhaps you are right, but I didn’t create the rules and expectations. I simply abide by them.”

  His admission didn’t come as a surprise. Sebastian had been trying to prove he belonged in the noble class as long as she could recall, all because their father hadn’t been born a blue blood. His exemplary service during the Irish Rebellions had earned him a barony from the King.

  Sebastian strode to the window, his movements jerky. “I planned to delope and end the matter. Mr. Hillary and I could have reopened negotiations afterward and repaired the damage, but the coward never showed up.”

  She shot to her feet too, hands landing on her hips. “He is not a coward.” She couldn’t allow her brother to insult Ben or believe he had acted out of cowardice. “He didn’t meet you, because he loved me in return. I would have been devastated if I lost either of you, but only he seemed capable of recognizing it.”