Dance of Seduction by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online Page B

in French society, not trying to catch a criminal in Spitalfields. You weren’t running about asking questions of fences, pretending to be a thief when you couldn’t tell a figger from a dive.”
    “What’s a figger?” When Morgan arched an eyebrow,Ravenswood added sourly, “All right, you’ve made your point. But you’re as much a gentleman as Jenkins was.”
    “Ah, but Jenkins was raised one; I wasn’t.” He shifted his gaze to the window, and bitterness crept into his voice. “That’s why you came to me, as you well know—because of my firsthand knowledge of petty thievery.”
    “Not to mention a certain cunning and an ability to blend in anywhere.”
    Especially here. Morgan glanced out into the somber street moldering with gray despair. Living among smugglers while doing his duty hadn’t bothered him—they were naught but seamen like himself. But living in Spitalfields—
    He’d suffered most of his first thirteen years in Geneva’s streets before his father’s family had found him. Such a childhood wasn’t wiped away by a subsequent education and long service in the navy. Every day he spent on Petticoat Lane brought those thirteen years painfully back.
    He swore under his breath. He couldn’t wait to be done with this. “My point is, I’ll be more convincing as a receiver of stolen goods than Jenkins was as a thief.” Picking up a compass, Morgan breathed on the face, then polished it with his sleeve. “For one thing, Jenkins didn’t already have a tarnished reputation to lend his role credence. Whereas Morgan Pryce—”
    “So that’s why you’re using your old name instead of taking an alias.”
    Until Morgan’s family had finally claimed him publicly last year, Morgan had gone by the name of Pryce, his mother’s maiden name. It had been better for all concerned. “In practicing deception, it’s always best to stick to the truth when possible. I’m known among thieves for consorting with pirates and smugglers. Fortunately, while Morgan Blakely was exonerated of all blame for those activities, Morgan Pryce still has the reputation for them. So why not use it?”

    “Yes, but if you don’t use an alias, people you care about—like your brother—might hear of your activities. Or have you already told him what you’re doing?”
    An image of his very respectable brother, Sebastian Blakely, the Baron Templemore, suddenly filled his mind, giving him a moment’s regret. “I’ve told him nothing—ignorance is bliss and all that.”
    “Even though you’re cheating on your wager? I thought his terms were that you were to stay in England and out of danger for one year.”
    “I’m in England, aren’t I? And what could be dangerous about opening a small-business concern?”
    Ravenswood rolled his eyes. “I suspect Templemore wouldn’t agree with your interpretation.”
    “Then perhaps you should keep your mouth shut about it. I doubt he and Juliet will be coming to London anytime soon, so they’ll never know. They’re too busy up in Shropshire overseeing the wheat sowing or sheep shearing or some such nonsense.”
    Ravenswood shot him a speculative glance. “Have you never desired to join them? Surely Templemore would happily let you live on his estate.”
    “Don’t even think it!” Morgan shuddered. “Much as I enjoy the company of my brother and his wife, I’d hate playing the country squire. The first three months of the wager period that I spent at Charnwood nearly drove me mad. My brother’s estate is too peaceful.” It afforded way too much time for remembering.
    “I understand that, I suppose. I myself prefer London with all its entertainments.”
    “I prefer the sea. Activity. I’ve never been so bored in all my life as I was at the Templemore town house. If not for that damned wager, I’d have left England months ago, gone to India or Africa.”

    “Then I’ll have to thank your brother for keeping you here when next I see him.”
    Morgan eyed him askance.