Petals in the Storm by Mary Jo Putney Read Free Book Online Page A

amusement faded. "He happened to be in France when my father and Willis were killed, and he arranged to take the bodies back to England . They have been buried at my uncle's estate the last dozen years."
    Robin looked at her narrowly. While it was good that she was staying, this new fact suggested a myriad of interesting questions. How well had Maggie known the duke, and were there implications here that might affect his own plans? Keeping those thoughts to himself, he asked, "Is it possible that he lied about that, to convince you to stay here?"
    Maggie was startled by the question; it had never occurred to her to doubt Rafe's word. She did not pause to reconsider before shaking her head. "No, he's one of your proper English gentlemen, without enough imagination to lie."
    Robin grinned, looking irresistibly boyish. "Haven't I convinced you yet that not all Englishmen are gentlemen?"
    "You, Robin, are sui generis, absolutely one of a kind. The fact that you are English is a mere accident of birth." Maggie smiled at him affectionately. In spite of all his strenuous objections to the contrary, Robin was completely a gentleman, more so than Rafe Whitbourne had proved to be.
    Over the years she had often wondered about Robin's background. She suspected that he was the illegitimate son of a noble house, raised and educated among gentlemen but forever an outsider in the ranks of polite society. That would explain why he showed no desire to return to his native land. But she had never asked for confirmation, and Robin had never volunteered. Though in many ways they were very close, some subjects were not discussed.
    "Your suggestion to tantalize the duke with my irresistible body was a dead loss, by the way," she added wryly. "It wouldn't have mattered if I were as beautiful as Helen of Troy, or as ugly as Madame de Stael. The duke's noble mind is above such crass matters as lust, at least when he is engaged on His Britannic Majesty's business." His kiss, after all, had only been a way to confirm her identity.
    "He merely has superhuman control. Seeing you in that gown tempts me to lock the door and overpower you with kisses myself."
    Maggie glanced away, not wanting to deal with what lay beneath his teasing tone. "Before I return to England , I'm going to acquire an entire wardrobe of gowns that come up to my throat. It's tedious to have men always talking to one's chest rather than one's face."
    Serious again, Robin said, "Why did Candover do something as extraordinary as returning your father's body to England ? It must have been very difficult to arrange."
    "I imagine it was." Maggie was reluctant to tell even Robin her history with the duke. Choosing part of the truth, she said, "He and my father were friends." Before Robin could inquire further, she went on, "For your sins, you can now learn about the urgent project Candover dropped onto our plates."
    Succinctly she outlined what Rafe had said about a possible plot hidden in Parisian diplomatic circles. At the end, she produced the paper Lord Strathmore had sent, and she and Robin read it together.
    "If Strathmore is right, this is deadly serious," Robin said soberly. "There have been other conspiracies, but always by insignificant people far from the centers of power. This plot looks different."
    "I know," she said thoughtfully. "I can already think of several names to put behind this conspiracy."
    "So can I, all men who will be impossible to accuse without rock-solid proof, even if we were sure ourselves."
    "After you and I have both checked with our informants, it may reduce the number of possibilities."
    "Or it may increase them. All we can do is get to work and hope for the best." He glanced at the letter again. "You're disobeying orders—according to this, you should have nothing to do with anyone in the delegation save Castlereagh and Wellington . What if I'm Strathmore's weak link?"
    "Nonsense," she retorted. "He means the regular delegation, not you. You've worked