Free The Fashionable Spy by Emily Hendrickson

someone or I shall burst. Oh, that odious man,” she concluded with asperity as she plumped herself on the sofa and proceeded to pour a cup of tea for herself. Then she munched a crisp lemon biscuit while her sisters waited for her to continue.
    “What an intriguing entrance,” Victoria said, alarm in her voice. One never knew what Elizabeth might plunge into, for she was given to impetuous starts.
    “Well,” Elizabeth said after she had drained her first cup of tea, “I went to the war office to turn in that pile of French banknotes and accept my next assignment, and whom should I literally bump into at the bottom of the steps outside the building but that frightful man!”
    “Frightful man?” Julia said in her gentle way, alarm also clear in her voice.
    “ ‘Miss Dancy,’ “ Elizabeth said in a deep voice, “he murmured in that way he has, and then said how charming it was to see me again after such a long time. He accused me of avoiding him! Can you believe his nerve, as though I would bother? He insists he is harmless. Bah! And after the Penwick ball, too.” Elizabeth picked up another lemon biscuit and bit into it with ferocious energy, as if to express her annoyance with the man in question.
    Curious, Victoria tried to suppress the urge to insist that Elizabeth get to the heart of the matter, and prompted, “What did he—whoever he is—do, dear?”
    “Well, to begin with, he stole a kiss—no, two—at the Fenwick ball.” Catching a glimpse of her elder sister’s look of dismay, she added, “I did not wish to upset you, for I was certain he would never look my way again. I have heard he is quite the rake, and we all know that rakes never bother with green girls. And I am certainly green,” she sighed with apparent disgust.
    “And?” Victoria urged.
    “I told that impossible man that I do not welcome stolen kisses and he had the nerve to say that he was forced to steal a kiss for he perceived I’d not give one willingly. Now, I ask you, are those the words of a gentleman? And he said it was utterly delicious!” she concluded in what appeared to be deep affront.
    “What did you say then to this unnamed man?” Victoria queried, satisfied that her sister was embroidering just a trifle upon what seemed to be a reasonably innocent bit of flirting.
    “Well, I told him that just because I am an orphan he was not free to do as he liked. My family will protect me, and I may call upon friends if necessary in Geoffrey’s absence. And he called me a little termagant,” she recalled, pressing her lips together in annoyance.
    “Oh, dear,” Julia murmured, exchanging a look of amusement with Victoria.
    “And then, do you know what he had the audacity to tell me? That he does not give up easily. He intends to continue his unwelcome pursuit, even though he can plainly see I do not care one jot for him. Oh, such an obnoxious man.” Elizabeth took another sip of tea.
    “He is totally ineligible, most likely as homely as a mud fence, and possessing the manners of an encroaching toad, no doubt,” Victoria suggested gently.
    “Gracious, no!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “He is tall and slender, quite handsome—if you like a man with brown hair that has a tendency to flop over his brow. Those hazel eyes tease more than not, and it seems he intends to bedevil me with his presence—unless I see him first,” she added thoughtfully.
    “Rag-mannered, then?” Julia said in her quiet way, quite in the same method Victoria used for obtaining information.
    “No,” Elizabeth admitted, “he has charming manners, far too charming for the good of a young woman. Although he does have a tendency to laugh at me, and I believe he just likes to tease, nothing more.”
    “Elizabeth Dancy, if you do not reveal the name of this paragon, I shall be tempted to throttle you at once,” Victoria declared.
    “I thought I told you,” Elizabeth murmured much as Julia had earlier. “He is David, Lord Leighton—you know.