Kiss of a Traitor by Cat Lindler Read Free Book Online

miniature’s quality was so mediocre he had difficulty distinguishing the girl’s features other than to note she was rather thin, very young, and no beauty. His mind took a leap forward, triggering a tingle to run down his spine. If what General Marion said was true, he could carry through with this. He could pose as this young woman’s betrothed and gain access to the Tory and British command.
    Marion spoke again, mirroring Ford’s thoughts. “Major Sinclair came directly from England and arrived in South Carolina two days ago. He was acting as courier while on his way from Charles Town to Georgetown. He had yet to report to his command. The situation appears to have possibilities.”
    As Ford got to his feet, he agreed. Nevertheless, he had some moral reservations in acting the part of a bridegroom. He met Marion’s intense regard. “You are quite right, sir, this is our chance. I have one request, however. Promise you will extract me before I’m forced to go through with the marriage. I’m not inclined to tie myself for eternity to some skinny mouse of a Tory wife.”
    “Done,” Marion stated. He extended his arm and shook Ford’s hand. A twinkle entered his black eyes. “Let me be the first to congratulate you on your betrothal, Major Aidan Sinclair.”

Chapter 4
    Blazing candelabra raised the temperature in the crowded ballroom to an intolerable level. Willa lifted her arm and viewed with dismay the wet ring staining her blue satin ball gown. The wig her stepmother had obliged her to wear made her scalp itch. She slipped a finger beneath the horsehair to scratch at a particularly annoying spot behind her ear. With the least movement, rice powder dusting her face—her stepmother’s effort to bleach Willa’s sun-kissed skin a fashionable white—sifted down in a fine rain that tickled her nose and threatened a sneeze. She glanced at her reflection in the French doors’ glass panels. Perspiration tracked from her brow through the white coating, giving her face a curious striped appearance.
A total disaster.
    As she plied her fan with vigor, she longed to slip out of the trappings of Polite Society to soak in a tub of cool water. On the other hand, perhaps a dip in the creek out back would serve were she able to steal away from her father’s supervision.
    Emma Richardson, a voluptuous red-haired beauty and Willa’s closest friend, shared Willa’s corner among the potted ferns. Emma’s father, Continental General Richard Richardson, passed away a month earlier after being taken prisoner by the British and falling ill while in captivity. Emma was officially in mourning, but the normal restrictions of Society held little sway over a wartime population that relished entertainments as a rare treat to be enjoyed by all.
    Nonetheless, Willa noted the censorious looks directed at her and Emma. Politics mattered more than proprieties. The entrenched British took umbrage at amiable relations between Tory planters and their rebel neighbors. But ‘twas a common situation and unlikely to change. Willa had few close female acquaintances, and her father had welcomed Emma into his home. The two fathers—Loyalist colonel and rebel general—had taken opposite sides in the war, but Colonel Bellingham enjoyed a true liking and respect for Richard Richardson. They had maintained a close friendship before civil war tore them apart.
    “I confess, ‘tis all too exciting,” Emma droned on at Willa’s side. Despite Willa’s discomfort, Emma appeared to suffer little from the sultry atmosphere and restrictive clothing. “Imagine being betrothed for your entire life and knowing naught about it until last week.”
    “I would rather forget about it, if you do not mind,” Willa muttered while keeping an eye on her stepmother garbed in cloth of gold and looking like a princess as she danced with a dapper Major Digby. Willa looked down at her soiled, wrinkled dress and pursed her lips. Jwana had turned her out in fine form,