Free Love and Let Spy (Lord and Lady Spy) by Shana Galen Page B

Dominic’s mother were away.
    “Yes, sir.” Danbury nodded but did not look hopeful. Dominic was not hopeful either. The best the butler could hope for was that Phineas would be rendered unconscious from overimbibing, sooner rather than later.
    For his part, Dominic intended to steer clear of the party and seek the solace of the room he occupied when in Town. He climbed the stairs, glad the drawing-room doors were only partly ajar. The men inside were so raucous they could not have heard him pass. He reached the landing of the second floor and frowned. It was dark, and Dominic had not thought to bring a candle or lamp. The lamps had either sputtered out, or the servants had forgotten to light them. Dominic took a deep breath. It was not so very dark. Light shone at the bottom of the stairs. He stepped forward, the floorboard creaking as he moved. His room was at the end of the corridor. The distance was not great when the lights blazed, but it seemed the other side of the world at the moment.
    Idiot, he chided himself. He clenched his hands and walked confidently forward.
    Behind him, a floorboard creaked.
    Dominic paused. Had that been his imagination? Was someone else up here with him? He turned back, and that was when the attack came. Later Dominic would take comfort in the fact that he did not scream. He would take comfort in the fact that his brother would wake up in the morning with a sore jaw.
    Phineas jumped out from a dark alcove and yelled, “Got you!”
    Dominic hit him, sending him sprawling onto his skinny arse. He would have hit him again if he hadn’t recognized him.
    “What the devil was that for?” Phineas complained, his words slurred from too much drink. “Jus’ having a bit o’ fun.”
    Dominic grabbed his half brother by the shirt and slammed him against the wall. “Listen, and listen well, Brother . Do not ever—do you hear me? ever —come at me from behind again.”
    “Very well.”
    Dominic released him, and Phineas all but slumped to the floor before picking himself up. “What is wrong with you, anyway?”
    Dominic shook his head and continued to his room. “Pray you never find out,” he muttered before opening the door. The lamp in his room burned, and he welcomed the light. He slammed the door, leaning back against it and closing his eyes tightly. His entire body shook, and it was a long, long time before his legs were strong enough to carry him to his bed.
    Six
     
    Jane stood outside the doors to the drawing room for a long moment after Lord and Lady Smythe’s butler escorted Mr. Griffyn away. Her cheeks were still burning, but it was not from embarrassment. She did not embarrass easily, and she could not remember ever having blushed so often. She was not the blushing sort—or at least she hadn’t been.
    She was the sort to feel annoyed when she allowed the personal to interfere with the professional. She was here on business for the Barbican group. That business had nothing whatsoever to do with Mr. Griffyn. In fact, he was in the way. And yet, she had allowed him to escort her to the residence of one of the Barbican group’s best operatives—Agent Wolf.
    And then she’d allowed him to kiss her senseless within feet of that operative and his wife. She was obviously in need of more sleep or a knock on the head or a long stint in the Barbican group’s filing room, affectionately referred to by agents as the Dungeon. And she might opt for any or all of those possibilities after she destroyed the Maîtriser group.
    With that thought, she took a breath and glided into the drawing room. The Smythes, heads together as they sat beside each other on the settee, had obviously been in the middle of a discussion, because their whispered conversation ceased, and Lord Smythe stood.
    “I am afraid Mr. Griffyn was called home,” she said, making her way to a gilt armchair with lions carved on the front legs. “That might be for the best, as he is not…a friend of Lord Melbourne.” She