Sebastian's Lady Spy by Sharon Cullen Read Free Book Online Page B

anger to subside enough to allow him to speak. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”
    She opened her mouth to speak and he held up his hand. Bloody hell, they would get nothing accomplished if she didn’t stop speaking for one blasted moment. “What I was going to stay was that not all my business concerns this mission. I do have other things on my plate.”
    She shut her mouth and narrowed her eyes at him, as if contemplating whether to believe him. He was partially telling the truth. He did attend to estate business, but he also had made plans for tonight that he in no way wanted her knowing. In precisely half an hour, he would be meeting a very unsavory character in a very unsavory dockside pub. If Gabrielle knew, she would tag along, and that was entirely unacceptable.
    “Very well,” she finally said. “What is our next plan of action, then?”
    “Our next plan of action is to get you home, safe, and tucked in for the night.”
    “So you can do what? Visit a dockside pub? Meet someone without me?”
    It took every bit of his training not to react. “Hardly. I plan to have a few drinks at my club, maybe a few hands of piquet. Then home.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “Whether you believe me or not hardly concerns me.”
    Those dark eyes bored into him from the shadows on her side of the carriage. He had spent many years learning to be still when his brain screamed at him to move, but tonight was proving more difficult than some of his most dangerous missions. He wanted to squirm beneath her scrutiny but didn’t dare.
    “Mi manchi,”
she said so softly he almost didn’t hear her.
I miss you.
    The simple words, spoken in her native tongue, would have pierced his heart if he’d allowed them.
    “What happened to us?” she asked.
    “I have no idea what you mean.” He steeled himself against the beseeching, hurt look she gave him, but his iron resolve weakened. Damn it, he hated weakness of any kind.
    “Yes, you do. You know what I mean.”
    “Lady Marciano.”
    “Sebastian.”
    He almost closed his eyes at his name whispered so softly. She’d done that before—whispered his name like that. In bed. While she was writhing in ecstasy.
    “What happened in Venice was an aberration,” he said, the words dispelling the images.
    “An aberration. What does that mean?”
    Her grasp of the English language was so nearly perfect that sometimes he forgot she wasn’t English at all. “A lapse of control.”
    “Ah.” Her gaze flickered away. “A regret.”
    “Yes.”
    She winced.
    “I’m sorry.”
    She looked out the window, and he had to bite his tongue to ask for her forgiveness. He’d hurt her, and he hated himself for hurting her. He was pushing her away for his own sanity. If he allowed her back into his heart, he would be lost forever.
    “According to a few people I spoke to, Buchanan’s late father was a sympathizer, but the current lord hasn’t shown any inclination toward the Jacobites,” he said, giving her what she wanted. Information. It was better than what he wanted to give her. “I spoke to Buchanan at length tonight after…” He cleared his throat. “After you left. Of course I would not be so crass as to outright ask if he was a sympathizer.”
    A small smile touched the corners of her lips. “Of course not.”
    “But I don’t believe he is. He has too many irons in the fires of our government. I believe he’s one who likes to work things from the inside out. Change the correct way.”
    She nodded and drew in a deep breath. “So what next?”
    “Next I make some inquiries in a few places that wouldn’t be suitable for you to venture into.”
    Her gaze finally met his. “So you are going to a dockside tavern.”
    He inclined his head, the only indication he would give that she was correct.
    “May I remind you, Sebastian, that I am a trained spy.”
    “I’m well aware, Gabrielle.” Her name on his lips felt perfect.
    His carriage pulled up to his residence.