Free After the Kiss by Karen Ranney

Journals of Augustin X .”
    Robert remained silent for a moment, considered the brandy in his glass. “I’ve heard of those before. I wonder where?” He shook his head as if to jar loose a memory, then smiled ruefully. “It has slipped from me, I’m afraid.”
    “No doubt crowded out by all those other secrets of yours.”
    “I am but a Junior Secretary,” he said, grinning. “I exist only to serve.”
    Michael eyed him dubiously. “And I suppose it’s a rumor that you employ all those shadowy creatures of yours?”
    “Are you any closer to solving the Cyrillic cipher?” Robert asked with a smile. Evidently, the question had been too pointed.
    “No,” Michael said, making no effort to hide his irritation. “But I will.”
    Robert sighed. “I’d hoped you, at least, would have come to some conclusion. No one else has had any success, either.”
    The more difficult and important the cipher, the more individuals in the Black Chamber were assigned to it. Michael no more knew their names than they did his. Only that the Cyrillic cipher must be important indeed to warrant the attention it was receiving.
    But Michael had vowed to solve it first. He thrived on competition and suspected that was the very reason Robert had told him the cipher was being shared.
    Robert’s machinations made Michael smile. His old friend was not unlike a snake, so entwined in his own schemes that one day he would find himself feasting on his own tail.
    But for now, something even more fascinating than Robert’s stratagems intrigued him. Another type of mystery. That of the unforgettable Mrs. Esterly.
    When she came to Babby’s house to sell the Journal , he was also going to be present. Perhaps when he saw her again, the riddle would be solved, the attraction dissipated. It would be over once he saw her in the sunlight. She would be another attractive woman. Nothing more.
    He smiled, and toasted Robert with his brandy. His old friend gazed at him quizzically, but raised his own glass in salute.

Chapter 7
    A wise courtesan will never allow passion
to overwhelm her other senses.
    The Journals of Augustin X
    B ecause Silbury Village was of some repute due to the skill of its craftsmen, it was not entirely isolated; the London coach stopped here twice a week. A convenience, since it meant that she didn’t have to walk to the nearest crossroads.
    The journey from her cottage had been short enough, the walk easily passed in appreciation of the spring morning. Even the village seemed touched with the magic of it. The air was clear, almost crisp. Windows sparkled and flowers bloomed and the people she passed nodded and exchanged smiles. She gripped the wrapped book in her arms and responded in kind.
    Before she reached her destination, the inn that served as a post house for the coach, she was hailed by the two women she’d wanted most to avoid. Shesighed inwardly, turned and waited for them to approach her.
    “My daughter tells me that you’re off to London, Mrs. Esterly.”
    Sarah Harrington beamed at Margaret, her face wreathed in a look of approval. Anne Coving stood beside her. A casual observer might take them to be no more than friends. But they were sisters, for all their disparity in appearance.
    Sarah was tall and slender, and favored dark colors. Anne was short and plump and tended to wear bright fabrics. Sarah’s face, while narrow and thin was almost always graced with a smile. The expression on Anne’s plump face made Margaret think she’d recently smelled something vile.
    “Abigail says that it is an adventure of sorts,” Anne said, her eyes narrowing.
    “I’m going to visit a friend,” Margaret explained. A lie by only the most strict interpretation. She had planned on staying with Maude and Samuel Plodgett overnight after transacting her business.
    “It will be the second time you have returned to London since the fire, won’t it?” Sarah asked.
    “Such a terrible thing,” Anne said, “to lose a husband