Free A Spy's Honor by Charlotte Russell

off of Claire. “I think that’s enough for now. Do I not deserve a respite? I will find something else to suit me when the time is right.”
    Or he would go back to spying. Far, far away from Claire and her new husband.
    Sitting across from her at dinner had been torture. Despite having become adept at lying, he hadn’t liked deceiving Claire about his time in Europe or his intentions now he was home. But he smiled inwardly at the memory of her inquisition. She was suspicious of his answers and, as usual, had spoken her mind. There’d been a touch of anger in her eyes too, and in that remarkable blue dress she was so beautiful, so vibrant—and so taken .
    Allerton thumbed his glass. “I am sorry matters have come to pass as they have.”
    “Beg pardon?” John said, though he had an uneasy feeling where his brother’s thoughts had turned.
    “Claire is engaged,” Allerton said.
    John shrugged and drank his port. “It matters not to me. I met the new Lord Kensworth when I arrived. Are you certain the man is suitable?” Damnation. He should have stopped after the first sentence if it truly didn’t matter to him. And of course a handsome and titled viscount would be suitable for a twenty-three year old who’d made no other match.
    “The old viscount died two years ago. With no sons or nephews of his own, the title passed fairly far down the line. Though we’d never met him before, we’ve since discovered Kensworth a fine gentleman…except that he’s a Whig. But I’ve learned to live with that, as he and Claire get on well.” Allerton paused and twirled his port. “If Claire doesn’t matter to you, then why were you all but undressing her with your eyes?”
    “I didn’t— I never—,” John sputtered.
    Allerton leaned forward, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Lord Bradwell appointed me her guardian upon his death. If you were anyone else but my little brother, we would be meeting over pistols at dawn.” He laughed and shook his head. “Even in my most dissolute days, I don’t think I ever looked at a woman that way in the company of my entire family.”
    John’s skin burned beneath his brother’s censorious gaze, but denial was useless. He had wanted to divest Claire of her beautiful gown and do all manner of wicked things to her curvaceous figure. He had always been adept at hiding his feelings. Most of the time, even those who knew him best couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He had better learn to conceal his passion for Claire.
    “I apologize.” He sighed and linked his hands over his waistcoat. “Her engagement took me completely by surprise. I came back thinking she was free and I might try to court her right but… Well, my feelings are obviously irrelevant at this point.”
    Allerton laid temptation before him. “It’s never too late. She is not married yet.”
    John resisted. “Don’t. It is too late. While I haven’t lived the life of a gentleman lately, I still know how to act honorably. A gentleman doesn’t break up an engagement.”
    The words flowed off his tongue smoothly enough, but his brain fogged over. How was he to reside in the same house as Claire for the next four weeks? He wasn’t even sure he could manage four hours. Witness what had happened over dinner.

Chapter Six
    John and Allerton rejoined the ladies in the parlor. Despite an impolitic desire to seek out Claire, John lowered himself onto the settee beside his mother, the dowager duchess. When she reached over and gently took his injured hand, he realized he’d left his glove in the dining room.
    “I’m sorry,” he said.
    His mother’s blue eyes, a match to his own, settled on his face with tenderness. “Why ever would you apologize to me?”
    He raised their joined hands. “Polite Society doesn’t want to see such ugliness. I need to make a habit of keeping it covered.”
    “ We are not Polite Society, John Frederick Reyburn. We are family. And Polite Society can go hang if they care more for