Free Anne Barbour by A Talent for Trouble

found his expression dubious.
    “I don’t know,” he mused softly. “I have been so careful. I rarely appear at the publisher’s, and except for Mapes himself, the staff believes that I am simply a bibliophile who has retained the firm to seek out rare old books for me.
    “I’ve had my desk moved into my room, and the chamber maids are under threat of a punishment too terrible to mention if they so much as whisk a dust clout near it. Even my valet is unaware of my double existence, though I’m sure he’s wondered at the puddles of candle wax he finds in the morning.”
    “Yes,” responded Tally, But I certainly cannot come to your home, and that leaves us the option of meeting elsewhere; Mapes’s perhaps—but then I would have coachmen and grooms to contend with, plus that odious Porlock, whom I do not think I trust at all. We certainly can’t continue meeting in the Park at the crack of dawn, and....”
    Tally was interrupted as a thud of hoof beats announced approaching horses, and in a moment a pair of riders swung into view. One of them, to Tally’s surprise, was Lady Bellewood, wearing a fetching habit of midnight blue, with a hat of the same shade perched rakishly on one side of her head.
    Catching sight of Jonathan, Clea drew to an abrupt halt, and for an instant, moved as though to turn back the way she had come. Her companion, a tall, slender gentleman, dressed in elegant, if somewhat showy riding attire, placed his hand on her bridle, and bent to whisper in her ear. Straightening, Clea waived gaily to Jonathan and approached at a smart trot.
    “Jonathan,” she cried in pleased accents, “what a nice surprise!”
    “Good morning, my love.” Jonathan lightly clasped the gloved hand extended to him by Clea. He nodded briefly to her companion. “But what are you doing out in the world at such an early hour?”
    “Oh, it’s the silliest thing.” She giggled nervously. “Miles said that after such a late evening of dancing I would not be seen until it was time to promenade in the Park this evening, and of course I told him that was just nonsense. So, he challenged me to an early morning ride this morning, and I accepted, although I must look positively hagged.”
    She lowered her lashes and waited. To Tally’s irritation, Jonathan responded on cue.
    “Nonsense, my love. As usual, your radiance shames the dawn.”
    A delicate flush spread over the Beauty’s cheeks.
    How does she do that, wondered Tally rancorously.
    “But, dearest,” breathed Clea, “whatever are you doing here?”
    Jonathan smiled fondly.
    “I, too, issued a challenge of sorts last night. Lady Talitha revealed that she is used to riding out early at her home in Cambridgeshire. Since my own custom is much the same here in the city, I asked her to join me. If I had any notion that you would be stirring so early, I would have asked you to join us.”
    For the first time Clea turned to look at Tally, and as her gaze moved over the form-fitting old riding habit, the tiniest of frowns creased the ivory perfection of her brow.
    “But aren’t you going to introduce me?”
    It was the voice of Lady Belle’s riding companion, who had raised his quizzing glass for his own inspection of Tally’s attire.
    “But, of course,” exclaimed Clea, “how remiss of me! Lady Tabitha—Burnwood, is it? Allow me to present my cousin, Miles Crawshay,”
    Murmuring her correct name through stiff lips, Tally extended her hand to Crawshay, who bent to grasp it with practiced ease.
    He was a tall man, and, though slender, gave the appearance of being formed of spring steel. His eyes were of a curiously light brown, set beneath coppery hair cut in a short, military style. With his aquiline nose and sharp features, he bore the appearance of an elegant fox.
    “So very pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Talitha.” His lips brushed her fingertips. “I take it you are newly arrived in the metropolis?”
    “Y-yes,” breathed Tally, flustered by