Free England's Assassin by Samantha Saxon Page B

time.
    Felicity had not said the words but she knew her cousin was thinking them. Juliet blushed, remembering the kisses she had exchanged with Robert Barksdale that had led her to utterly forget the hour the last time she was invited to tea by the Duchess of Glenbroke.
    Juliet resumed walking, relegating the delicious Lord Barksdale to the back of her mind. “Yes, Sarah was quite insistent in her invitation. I gathered that she wanted to speak with us about a matter in particular.”
    “Yes, I felt similarly when I spoke with her at Hyde Park.” Juliet stared at the enormous façade of the Duchess of Glenbroke’s home, trying to decide what might be going on in Sarah’s pretty little head. “Do you think she is increasing?”
    “Oh,” Felicity gasped as she always did when discussing babies. “Wouldn’t that be delightful?”
    Juliet gave a mental shrug, not particularly liking infants. Children she adored, but the moment she took a babe in her arms the child never failed to spit up their breakfast all over her favorite gown.
    “Yes,” she muttered, but her eyes narrowed as a man came out of Sarah’s front door. “That would be lovely.”
    Juliet watched, eliminating their acquaintances as the man walked toward them; too broad to be Aidan Duhearst, too dark to be either Daniel McCurren or Christian St. John. She focused all of her attention on the man’s face while trying to appear as though she were not.
    She could see his features now. High cheek bones, full lips for a man, a square jaw that was echoed by closely trimmed sideburns. He was ten paces away and her forehead creased as she out and out stared, trying desperately to understand why the man seemed so familiar.
    The gentleman tipped his hat as he passed them and Juliet all but gasped when she met his gaze. His severe eyes burrowed into her as though he understood every thought that she ever had or ever would have.
    Her head snapped round as they continued walking and she stared at his back and then his backside in open, appreciative assessment. He must have felt her carnal evaluation because he too looked back, meeting her eye just before his dark brows furrowed in what appeared to be confusion. Thinking he too felt some familiarity, she was enlightened as to his bewilderment the moment she walked headlong into a lamppost.
    “Oh, dear, Juliet! Are you alright?” Felicity fussed.
    Mortified, Juliet rubbed her forehead and glanced at the man from beneath her hand, praying that he had not noticed her inelegance. But he had, and she knew it with the slight quirking of his lips as the handsome gentleman turned around and continued on his way.
    “I’m fine,” she said, irritably. “But who was that man? He seemed so familiar.”
    Felicity shrugged her lovely shoulders. “I’ve never seen him before.”
    “He came out of Sarah’s house.”
    “Really?”
    Juliet rolled her eyes amazed at Felicity’s lack of observation. “We shall inquire with Sarah? Come on,” she prodded, her aching feet completely forgotten.
    ***
    Lord Seamus McCurren had just stopped laughing at the silly chit whom had so flatteringly crashed into the lamppost while giving him a second, infinitely more thorough look, when his mind returned to the task at hand.
    He continued down the road with disquiet echoing each step that took him that much closer to his parent’s town home.
    Oh, his commission was simple enough. Inform his parent’s that his brother had been found, that Daniel’s never ending state of drunkenness had, no doubt, been instrumental in his offering his service to the crown… in Paris.
    “Bugger me,” he muttered, already picturing his father’s reaction, his wrath and he could throttle Daniel for making him be the one to feel it.
    Seamus had gone to his brother’s town home to confront Daniel about his drinking, but rather than finding his impulsive brother, he had found only a white calling card. The gentleman on the card had been surprisingly