Celeste Bradley - [The Liar's Club 02] by The Impostor Read Free Book Online Page A

I have a piece of that very thin paper you use for tracing?”
    Pulled from the depths of concentration, Clara looked up from her drawing to see Kitty eyeing her hopefully from the doorway. “I’m sorry, dear. Did you knock? I didn’t hear.”
    “Yes, Auntie. May I have a sheet of trace paper, please?”
    Clara slid the blotting sheet over her latest Sir Thorogood drawing as Kitty approached. Hope sparked within her. Could Kitty be showing artistic tendencies? “If you want to draw, I have some very nice paper—”
    “La, you know I hate to draw. But Bitty claimed the Sir Thorogood cartoon today, and I wanted to make a copy for myself.”
    Clara abandoned disappointment for artistic pleasure. “You liked it very much, then. What is it of?”
    “Oh, it’s most amusing. Aunt Clara. It’s a Society mama and she’s putting her daughters on the marriage mart, only it’s really an auction block, and the daughters are really—”
    Cows
. Oh, drat. Guilt beat artistic pleasure on the head and threw it out of the door. That drawing had been the result of a particularly grueling chaperoning session that Beatrice had forced her into. She’d forgotten to take it out of the last packet she’d given to Gerald Braithwaite.
    Well, if she had ever considered sharing her secret life with her in-laws, she could forget it now.
    Kitty left with her trace paper and Clara returned to work, but the interruption had ruined her concentration. As fond as she was of Kitty, and even Beatrice, at times there was nothing she longed for more than a place of solitude and silence. It need not even be a real artist’s studio, though that was her ideal. Merely a place that she could truly call her own, from which she could rule her own destiny.
    That was what she had thought to achieve by marrying Bentley in the first place. A home of her own, a future, a family.
    As the indignant shrieks of a sisterly argument penetrated the walls, Clara snorted and began to pack up her drawing supplies in defeat.
    She’d certainly acquired the family portion of her dreams.
    A reminder to oneself—be careful what you wish for.
    James found himself wishing he’d waited until after the meeting to allow Kurt to pound him into the floor. Sitting in the chair was allowing his muscles to stiffen abominably and he was aware that his aroma was none too fresh.
    James forced himself to look away from the empty chairs that would be filled if not for him.
My life for yours
.The promise wasn’t worth much, but it was all the amends he could make. His life for the Liar’s Club.
    If that club lasted the year.
    The ragtag bunch that half-filled the meeting room was of the old club, the men hand-picked by Simon Raines and some even by the spymaster before him.
    Men who had yet to truly give the new spymaster their support.
    James watched as Dalton led the meeting—saw how the refined Lord Etheridge had to draw grudging answers and suggestions from the men as if with hooks and line.
    “There has been an increase in French recruitment efforts among the merchants and manufacturers, according to our informants. Some are suborned with financial promises, some with French imperialist propaganda.”
    “What—some poor draper sellin’ out his country ‘cause he wants to be as good as the toffs? Can’t imagine it.” The dry comment came from behind James, its originator probably not intending it to reach Dalton’s ears. James hoped it hadn’t.
    Dalton’s gaze flicked to the heckler without hesitation. “Dissatisfaction with one’s station should not excuse treason, justified though it might be. Don’t you agree, Mr. Rigg?” His voice was cool, not rising in the slightest, but James felt the ridiculous urge to duck out of the line of fire.
    Rigg blustered his way through a sort of agreement and James relaxed slightly. Open defiance and insubordination did not seem to be on the menu today, thankfully. Still, there was no comparing this stiff, uncooperative gathering