Free A Spy's Devotion by Melanie Dickerson Page A

made her want to protect him.
    Now he was leaving the study. She peeked at him over her shoulder as he very gently closed the study door. He turned in her direction and his eyes met hers.
    He froze in midstep. His mouth opened and then closed, as if he didn’t know what to say.
    “Miss Grey,” he said and then cleared his throat. “I got lost looking for the retiring room, and then I heard some loud noises from the street outside.” He closed the distance between them and smiled.
    Something seemed to pass between them in that moment, as if he saw in her face that she knew he was not telling the truth. There was tension around his mouth as he stared into her eyes as if trying to delve into her thoughts, questioning whether she would reveal his secret.
    “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure.” She smiled up at his handsome face, cast partially into shadow in the dark hall. “I hope it didn’t remind you . . .” She stopped herself. How ill mannered of her to bring up his injuries. But she had to finish her sentence. “Of the war.”
    “Not at all.” He made a small gesture with his hand. “War memories do not plague me when I am in pleasant company.”
    He smiled benignly, but a flicker of some inscrutable emotion crossed his face, and she suspected, once again, that he wasn’t being entirely truthful with her. Was he plagued with painful memories of the fighting, of getting shot and wounded, of his friends dying? How could he not be? A pang of sympathy pierced her chest.
    He held out his arm to her. “I shall escort you back to the ladies.”
    She took his arm, a warmth steeling over her—which caused her to remember Phoebe and how jealous she would be to know that Julia had been enjoying Mr. Langdon’s attention. Fortunately, he gave her a small bow just outside the drawing room door and left her there.

    Nicholas had to be cautious not to excite Mr. Wilhern’s suspicions. When he came back in from investigating the firecrackers in the street, Mr. Wilhern’s brows were lowered and his jaw twitched. But he changed his expression as soon as someone asked him what he had found outside.
    “Firecrackers. Only some mischievous lad, I suppose.”
    Once, after Nicholas had been staring down at his glass and glanced up, he’d caught Wilhern giving him a hard look.
    After adjourning to the drawing room to join the ladies, Edgerton went straight to Miss Grey’s side. His cheeks were flushed from too much drinking, but surely he wouldn’t harass Miss Grey with so many people around.
    Nicholas would keep an eye on him and make certain.
    Other than making sure Edgerton behaved himself, Nicholas had no further agenda for the evening. He could not risk looking for the diary again tonight, though he still suspected Wilhern was the man who had sent the thugs to steal the diary from him. How strange to think a respected member of British society, a landed gentleman, could be a traitor to his country.
    Nicholas would need to report to the War Office.
    Miss Grey was leaning away from Edgerton. The man was obviously making her uncomfortable. And by the way her nose wrinkled, she could clearly smell the brandy on his breath.
    During a sudden lull in the conversation, their host asked Nicholas, “How are your injuries healing?”
    Almost everyone’s eyes were on him now.
    “Thank you, I am improving.”
    “How soon will you be returning to your regiment? The army doesn’t normally allow its soldiers to be away from service for long.”
    “You are correct, sir.” He thought carefully about his answer. “I am still healing, but I’m sure to be sent back to the Peninsula soon. For tonight, it is very pleasant to be enjoying the sort of company I shall be deprived of when I am back with my troop. I had rather hoped I might hear some music.”
    “Oh yes,” Miss Wilhern exclaimed. “Julia can play and the rest of us can dance.” She fastened her eyes on him.
    His first thought was that Miss Grey would like to dance