Lord and Lady Spy by Shana Galen Read Free Book Online

pistol and pressed the muzzle into his thigh.
    He stiffened.
    “Now, let me go. Slowly.”
    She’d expected immediate compliance, but for some reason, the man hesitated. She dug the muzzle harder into his flesh. “Let go.”
    But he was still, listening. “Wait a moment.” His voice was far away, distracted.
    Damn. He’d recognized her voice. That was the last thing she needed. She tried to distract him with another nudge from the pistol, but he shook his head. “Who are you?”
    “Someone with whom you should not trifle.”
    “Sophia?” The word was strained and almost high-pitched, and before she could stop herself, she jerked, giving all away. “My God.” His hands suddenly flew from her, releasing her as though she’d just told him she had the pox. “It is you.”
    Sophia landed on her feet, stumbled, then whirled to face him. There was a scratching sound, and the acrid smell of smoke assaulted her nostrils. A lone match flared, and she was staring into Adrian’s face.
    Shock, like the blow of a blacksmith’s hammer, slammed into her. She felt as though her head had been cleaved in two, and she could make no sense of the apparition before her.
    “Adrian?” she managed before the flame went out. “But how—?”
    The sound of footsteps above them jerked her back into the danger of the situation. She went absolutely still, noting Adrian did the same. As one, they slid toward the shelter of the staircase. Sophia ducked down, bumping shoulders with Adrian as he did the same.
    “Get out of my way,” she hissed.
    “You’re in my way.”
    The footsteps began again. “Shh,” they said in unison.
    Sophia bristled. Who was he to shush her? And what was he doing here? Adrian’s idea of excitement was walking home from his club in a drizzle. She had to be imagining this… or was it some kind of test? Had whoever arranged this meeting brought Adrian here to evaluate her loyalty? Or perhaps to expose her…
    “Are you down there?” a man’s voice called from the top of the staircase. The warm glow of lantern light flickered above and cascaded over them.
    “Who the hell are you?” Adrian called, careful, she noted, not to reveal himself.
    “Why, Lord Smythe, come upstairs and see for yourself. You, too, Lady Smythe.”
    Sophia snapped a look at Adrian, but he appeared as confused as she.
    “No need to worry,” the man said. “I know all about you and the Barbican group.”
    Sophia was still staring at Adrian, and it was then that she saw it.
    He was wearing the gray cloak. The same gray cloak the operative who had stolen Ducos out from under her had been wearing.
    Her eyes must have widened, because Adrian’s expression went from bewildered to alarmed. “What is it?”
    “You,” she spat. She reached forward and grasped a handful of the offending cloak. “It was you. I do not believe this. It’s impossible.”
    And it was. Adrian? He had been the agent to apprehend Ducos?
    Adrian looked at the wadded material of the cloak in her hand, looked at her face. “What are you talking about?”
    “Lucien Ducos.”
    His face showed no reaction to the name. “I don’t follow.”
    It was a blatant lie, and yet his voice betrayed nothing. He was good. Damn! He was good.
    “You stole him from me,” Sophia spat. “You’re the bastard who walked in and stole Ducos from under my nose.”
    His gray eyes widened. “You’re the other spy? You’re the agent who couldn’t catch him?”
    Her jaw dropped indignantly. “ Couldn’t —I had him, you fool. That was my trap you stepped into. Days of preparation, and you ruined everything.”
    Adrian shrugged—arrogant, cocksure. It was a new look, a novel attitude for him. She hated it and was drawn to it at the same time. This man was not her husband.
    “I guess we know who the better agent is,” he drawled.
    “Better at pilfering, perhaps. But who won the confrontation down here?” She gestured to the lower level. “I had you right where I wanted