A Stolen Season by Tamara Gill Read Free Book Online Page B

lurking or acting oddly?”
    The runner shook his head. “No. The staff was so busy with the ball, they didn’t notice anyone out of the ordinary. But, if I may say so, my lord, it seems our killer is back in town.”
    Eric nodded, his attention on the unsuspecting populace outside his library window. “So it would seem,” he said. “Now all we have to do is catch the bastards.”
    “We will. Sooner or later they’ll make a mistake, and this time, we’ll be ready. You have my word on that, my lord.”
    Eric walked back to the desk and stood beside it. “And I’ll hold you to your word, Mr. Simms.”
    The runner’s swallow was almost audible. “Excellent.” He stood. “I’ll leave you now and update you when I have further news.”
    “Good day to you, sir.” He watched the short man scuttle off in haste, then pulled open his desk drawer and lifted out the strange artifact.
    He ran his fingers over the smooth metal casing. What was it? He had no idea, but whoever wanted it was back to collect. A smile quirked his lips. They would not have the chance to disappear again. His aim would be better this time.
    Deadly accurate in fact.
    • • •
    Sarah walked in to the breakfast parlor where a vast amount of food waited upon the sideboard. Ham, pheasant, eggs, toast, and chocolate, lovingly set out for them to choose. Sarah spooned some eggs on her plate and sat at the table.
    No sooner had she taken her first bite of the fluffy eggs than Richard rushed in. She smiled at his ruffled hair and his haphazard attempt at tying a cravat so early in the morning. “You look perky this morning, Richard.”
    Richard glanced at the footman, then dismissed him from the room. “If you keep using words like perky, the staff will start gossiping about you.” He gave her a pointed stare and looked over the food.
    “Ah, they won’t say anything. You worry too much.” Sarah poured Richard a coffee and then proceeded to fix herself a tea.
    A footman entered carrying a silver salver. “A missive has arrived for you, Miss Baxter.”
    Sarah broke the seal and opened it. “Oh.”
    “What is it?” Richard asked.
    “Lord Earnston cannot make our ride this morning. Seems he has an appointment he forgot.”
    “Oh, well, I’m sure the besotted fellow will ask you again.”
    Sarah absently tapped the letter on the table. It was imperative he ask her out, if for no other reason than to obtain the device, yet she couldn’t explain the sinking feeling of disappointment or the fervent hope he would wish to see her again just because. “Well, I might head down to Bond Street then. There’s sure to be an antique or an art shop among other specialty stores in the shopping precinct. Since I have no other plans for the morning.”
    “You’re saying the mapping device may have found its way into a London antique store? Bit of a stretch, don’t you think, Sarah?”
    She shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to look.” It was possible Lord Earnston may have sold his brother’s collection. She didn’t really believe this was the case, but she couldn’t fail getting it back again.
    “Your father said the earl had the device, so you’re wasting your morning. But,” Richard paused and looked out onto the street, “it’s up to you. Do you want me to have the carriage brought around for you? I won’t need it today, and it looks like a storm may be brewing.”
    “No,” Sarah shook her head. “I’ll take a hackney.”
    “I don’t know if that’s safe. Perhaps I should come with you.”
    Sarah waved Richard’s concerns away. “I’ll be fine.”
    “Take your mace then.”
    “Not that I’ll need it, but if it makes you feel better … ” Thunder rumbled in the distance. Dammit, would nothing go her way today? It had started out such a lovely morning, but true to Richard’s predictions, that was deteriorating by the minute.
    “It would.” Richard bit into his ham and sighed. “This is delicious.”
    “The kitchen staff can