Free Kissing The Enemy (Scandals and Spies Book 1) by Leighann Dobbs, Harmony Williams Page B

not fixing it. In fact, she was leaving this room posthaste.
    She opened the door. Voices and figures from down the hall made her shut it reflexively. At the last moment, she pulled back and eased the door into its frame soundlessly.
    Her heart pounded like a drum. What if it was the duke?
    A woman’s voice pierced the air. “Goodnight, my dear. Are you off to bed?”
    That was the Dowager Duchess. Freddie’s knees weakened with relief.
    Until a man’s voice answered. “Not quite yet. I must check on my night-blooming flowers in the orangery. I’ve only come to change out of my evening clothes.”
    “Don’t stay up too late,” the dowager chastened. “I have plenty of games planned for the morrow.”
    “Of course.” The man sounded resigned. “Sleep well, Mama.”
    “You, too, dear.”
    A door opened and shut, far too close for Freddie’s comfort. She backed away from the door. Where could she hide?
    She heard a second door shut, farther down the hall. Her knees weakened in relief. She sat on the edge of the settee as she waited for her heart to calm. It hadn’t been the duke, after all.
    She shook her head. What am I doing? She was no spy. She wasn’t prepared for this sort of thing. Maybe she should leave, ensconce herself in her room and stay there for the remainder of the party.
    You’re so close. Are you a coward?
    She didn’t have to be a coward to be afraid of what the French spies would do to her if they found her. But she’d left them in the library, and she’d taken a shortcut through the passageway to get here. She still had time to search Lord Graylocke’s room, if she hurried.
    She slipped into the hall. Muffled voices emanated from the room directly across from the duke’s. She slipped past. The room next to the one with voices opened to reveal an empty adjoining bedchamber. The locked door in the duke’s room must lead to one, as well. She continued down the line. The next door she opened led to Lucy’s room, judging by the feminine décor. The one next to hers also contained muttering. It must be Lord Gideon. Freddie slipped across the hall and tried the next door.
    It opened to reveal a room that was clearly in use. The hearth was cold, but there was a candle on a table by the door, burned halfway to the holder. Clearly, it had been left so far from the rest of the room in order to prevent anything from catching fire.
    Nothing in the room was neat. Didn’t Lord Graylocke have a valet? Even if he didn’t keep one—the man was absent, after all—one of the other servants should have tidied his room. The room was smaller than the duke’s, made to seem even more so from the clutter. The bed was made neatly, though a man’s banyan had been carelessly tossed across the foot. On a low table beside the armchair facing the hearth were piles of books. Some had pieces of paper sticking out of them, marking the place where he’d left off. Lord Graylocke’s house slippers had been abandoned at the foot of the armchair, though they had been arranged neatly. Spare coin littered the top of the sideboard, along with scraps of paper and other trinkets. Was that a rabbit’s foot? How bizarre. Freddie’s head reeled as she tried to take in the full breadth of the chaos.
    She didn’t have time to linger. She had to search. At least, unlike with the duke’s room, she didn’t have to worry about putting things back in their place. There didn’t seem to be any sort of order to the mess whatsoever.
    At least this room didn’t contain a larger-than-life portrait of Lord Graylocke. If Freddie had had to be subjected to his shrewd gaze while she searched his room, she might have swooned.
    She began with the books beside the armchair. The plush, oriental-patterned rug muffled her footsteps. She sank to her knees as she rifled through the books, even flipping through them to ensure that no secret correspondence was hidden between the pages. She found no red book with a gold-embossed seal on the