Free Enchanted by Your Kisses by Pamela Britton Page A

closed her eyes and exhaled a breath. Gracious, what a fool she was. Twice. Twice she'd trusted a man only to have that trust whipped away like a dirty blanket.
    Her nails dug into the fabric of her cloak. The motion of the carriage made her upper body sway as they rounded a corner. ' Twas bad enough to have to find out Nathan Trevain was also Helios, a spy, but to know that he'd intended to use her was further humiliation. For as surely as she knew her name, she knew that it was no coincidence he had sought out the First Lord's daughter. She took a deep breath, composing herself.
    Very well, he intended to use her.
    For what? she wondered. Her father would know, she realized. Or perhaps not. Obviously he had no idea who Nathan Trevain really was. If so, she was sure he'd be apprehended. . .or imprisoned. Very well, so what should she do about it? Confront Nathan with what she'd learned? Should she unmask him? The idea filled her with a fair amount of anticipation. How she'd like to accuse him, then slap his face. No. She would stab him in the heart. No, she would shoot him.
    Outside, a coach rumbled by. She watched it pass blindly. But to unmask him might put her own life in jeopardy. No. She should report his presence to the Admiralty. That seemed to be the most expedient thing to do. But what if they required proof? She had only her word that Nathan was Helios. Would they believe her? She nibbled her lip, picturing Lord Howell patting her head and telling her to go home with her silly ideas.
    He would do it, she was sure. As would the other admirals. No. She must have proof. Perhaps she could catch Helios in the act of pilfering whatever documents he sought.
    Yes, she liked that idea. She'd been used. And she would be damned if she let Nathan get away with it. No, indeed. This time she would make a man pay the price for his betrayal. Nathan Trevain would pay. That she vowed.

PART TWO

    Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.                               SHAKESPEARE

6

    The prospect of facing Nathan after what she'd discovered left Ariel feeling rather like a cat with a hair ball stuck in its throat. It didn't help that she'd spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning. Time and again she replayed her meetings with the cad. Staged. All of them. Her coming to London he no doubt considered a boon. But with each memory of their conversations, each recollection of how cynically he'd intended to use her, she grew more and more angry.
    And an angry D'Archer was a frightening thing. Between her gypsy blood and her father's love of battle, she'd inherited a terrific propensity for war.
    And she declared war on Nathan Trevain .
    So when she received a note from him asking to see her, she declined. If he wanted to play cat and mouse, she would play cat and mouse.
    In fact, it was two days before she agreed to see him, and then only because they would meet in public.
    "Will you go?" Phoebe asked.
    "Yes," Ariel said, reading his note again. "There will be several guests at his uncle's, too. ‘Twill be the perfect place to break the news to him that I no longer wish to see him."
    "I still do not understand why you do not simply send him a note."
    No, Phoebe couldn't understand, and Ariel wouldn't tell her. It was bad enough to bear this humiliation alone. She didn't think she could cope with Phoebe's pity over the situation, too.
    So it was that later that evening she chose a gold satin that exactly matched the color of her eyes. The hoops were subtle rather than large, a dark-brown, wide bow above the waist that accentuated her figure. The neckline was modest. Her hair was swept away from her face. She hated wigs, and the thought of wearing one through tonight's battle was more than she could stand, so she elected to go against fashion. She had to look her best. To be brave. To remember that she had much to gain by