The Regency Season: Passionate Promises. Ann Lethbridge
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Gabe and Nicky chat with friends, but could not bring himself to join them. He hated to break up what looked like a merry party. Such a handsome couple and the darlings of the ton.
Three years ago he would have wagered his best horse that Gabe would never marry. What must it be like? Marriage? And now incipient fatherhood. The emptiness inside him seemed to expand at the reminder of his vow. He downed the brandy as the group around his friends dispersed and walked over to join them.
‘Quelle surprise,’ Nicky said, greeting him with obvious pleasure. ‘I thought you must be hibernating somewhere in the country it is so long since we saw you.’
Gabe rolled his eyes. ‘Stop prying.’ He gave Freddy an intense look. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Perfect.’
They both knew it for a lie, but there were too many ears in such a public place to say more. Gabe was no longer involved in espionage. He was part of the establishment now. It was certainly not the right place to reveal what his ward had been up to. Indeed, Freddy hoped that tonight’s conversation with Minette would put a halt to any need to do so. The set came to an end and Minette tripped back to her sister, her lovely face radiant. She dipped a curtsey to Freddy. ‘Your Grace. How unexpected.’
Minx. She knew he’d have no choice but to gather the information she’d promised. He forced himself to ignore the way his blood stirred at the saucy look she cast up at him from beneath thick russet lashes. Somehow she managed to convey all manner of wickedness with a glance beyond any demure English miss. The French called it je ne sais quois. Whatever it was, it exuded from her skin like sensual perfume.
But he was not completely lacking in the charm department, as more than one woman had told him. Though he suspected it was his title they found alluring. ‘Miss Rideau. May I compliment you on your appearance? The other ladies present are no doubt gnashing their teeth.’
Her amber eyes danced with laughter, while her expression remained innocent. ‘Or perhaps they are jealous because I am the only unmarried lady such a great personage has deigned to speak with this evening. You only have to dance with me to completely ruin their night.’
Beside him, Nicky shifted. She knew he could not dance and was tender-hearted enough not to want him embarrassed. Strangely, though, Minette’s words warmed him deep inside. It was as if she had not noticed his halting gait. Or thought nothing of it. The girl certainly had a way, like no other, of catching him off guard. He kept his face impassive. ‘I do not dance, but let us take a stroll about the room, unless you have another partner waiting for this next set?’
‘Oh, pooh. ’Tis only Granby and he is nowhere to be seen.’ She placed her hand on his arm. ‘He must have forgotten.’
The young idiot was probably somewhere hiding behind one of the potted palms strategically placed around the room, in case Freddy was inclined to tell Gabe about his lapse in judgement.
‘Run along,’ Gabe said, smiling, but with puzzlement clear in his eyes. Not surprising when he and Minette usually traded nothing but barbs.
Gabe turned to Nicky. ‘Madame, may I have this next dance?’ His voice was a caress, and Nicky blushed like a girl.
‘Certainement.’
They strolled out onto dance floor.
Their happiness filled Freddy with gladness for his friend but, damn it, he missed Gabe. They had worked well together.
He guided Minette in a gentle stroll around the dance floor, not bothering to smooth out his gait. When he’d been younger he had spent a great deal of time in front of the mirror, trying to appear normal. It had been a complete waste of time.
‘So,’ she said, sotto voce, ‘you have considered my proposition?’
‘The answer remains the same. And in case you have forgotten, it is no.’
Her chin went up.
‘Also,’ he continued, ‘if you even think about going after Moreau yourself, I’ll have you arrested for treason.’
Her eyes widened a fraction, something dark skated across their gold-flecked depths that had him tensing. What the hell wasn’t she telling him?
Her smile turned mischievous, a feminine sideways glance that had his blood running hot. ‘You’d have to catch me first,’ she murmured in velvet tones.
God, it sounded salacious, a challenge of a very different sort.
‘Stop it,’ he said, keeping his voice cold with some effort. ‘Keep your tricks for the likes of Granby.’
She laughed. ‘If I didn’t know better, I might think you were jealous.’
Something like a growl rose in his throat. He stopped it dead.
‘My informant discovered someone who has seen Moreau. Knows the name he is using,’ she said, as lightly as if she’d passed a comment on the weather.
He only just stopped himself from grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him. It was the information he and his men had been seeking for weeks. ‘Who is this informant?’
She dipped a curtsey at a passing matron of obvious consequence. ‘I won’t tell, unless you agree to let me speak to Moreau before you arrest him. I have a plan. Bother, here comes Granby. We can’t talk here. I’ll make an excuse and meet you in the library in a few minutes.’
‘Minette—’
But she was already moving towards the lieutenant, who had halted a few feet away, his expression wary.
Damn it. He should leave. See her tomorrow in Gabe’s presence. But he had the feeling that if he did not talk to her tonight, she might not be at Gabe’s house in the morning. Why the hell did she want to speak with a man who had held her prisoner for several weeks? There was something she had not told them when she had been rescued. Something he had the feeling he needed to know before he went after the man.
He strode out of the ballroom, heading for the library.
* * *
Men, Minette thought darkly as she moved down the set with a smile pinned to her lips. They always thought a woman needed protection from the least little thing. She glanced around and didn’t see Freddy. Either he would meet her in the library or she would find him on Gabe’s doorstep in the morning.
Then how would she get her property back before Moreau was taken?
She should have known Moreau would find a way to get back in favour with Napoleon’s spymaster, Fouché. But what was his purpose here in England? If she’d learned one thing about him, it was that he did not like to be crossed. People paid for it, in blood. A shudder ran down her spine.
If only Freddy trusted her enough to know she would never ask for such a concession if it wasn’t vital. And trusted her enough not to ask why. Then again, she didn’t trust him, either. Men like Moreau and Freddy used people to get what they wanted.
She glanced around. If she was going to meet him before he got impatient and left, it would be best to go before Nicky and Gabe left the dance floor. She smiled at Granby, took his hand for a backward pass across the set and deliberately stepped on her gown’s train. The hem tore beautifully.
‘Bother,’ she said.
Granby stared at her blankly.
‘I tore my lace,’ she explained. ‘I’ll have to pin it. Excuse me.’ She dived through the other dancers, making for the door, in her haste brushing the arm of a tall girl in regulation white.
The young woman gave her a hesitant smile. ‘Is something wrong?’
Nom d’un nom, now she’d have to be polite or risk causing a stir. ‘Someone stepped on my gown.’ She pulled at her skirt. ‘I can’t see, but I think the lace is torn.’
The girl stepped closer,