Free Unmasking the Spy by Janet Kent

of
Independence. This understanding, however, prevented none from spreading every
juicy on-dit of her aunt’s erratic behavior.
    She ground her teeth in frustration.
    She could no longer deny the
truth. Great-aunt Beatrix may have inadvertently deterred Alicia’s would-be
suitors. No man in search of a bride wanted to saddle himself with scandal.
    Since Mr. Morrissey was new to
town, Alicia had hoped he would be different. Untouched by gossip and
unimpressed by rumor. Clearly, she had been mistaken.
    His primary allure had been his
foreignness, and the likelihood that the scandals in her past would not yet
have reached his ears. Especially the talk about Beatrix – that bit of dirt was
the oldest Kinsey rumor and the one she’d thought most likely to be forgotten.
It was too bad Mr. Morrissey turned out to be a gossipmonger of the first
order. He even had the gall to broach the subject to her face.
    He was no better than the rest.
    “No,” Alicia bit out. “I live
with an aunt.”
    She closed her eyes. Next would
come the carefully worded questions, or, if he were like several of the
insensitive prigs she’d danced with over the years, subtle mocking.
    “An aunt,” Mr. Morrissey echoed. 
An indefinable glint flashed in his eyes. “Are you very close?”
    “Quite,” she answered and looked
past his shoulder at the other whirling dancers. She had no desire to see the
familiar disdain – or worse, the occasional pity – she had come to loathe.
    Every courtship she’d ever
dreamed of having had ended this way. First, they probed subtly for
information. Not all young bucks believed every rumor and insinuation. Some,
however, lost interest as soon as she pledged her loyalty to her aunt and indicated
her wish that Beatrix live with her forever. Others said that although she was
beautiful and the possibility of her inheriting her father’s title enticing,
they could not risk introducing madness into their families’ impeccable
bloodlines.
    Such ignorance and impudence
infuriated Alicia. She had hoped the talk died down years ago. Alicia pressed
her lips together and glared at Mr. Morrissey. She wouldn’t say a word against
her aunt.
    He waited until it became clear
no further comment followed her one-word reply.
    “All my family members live in
the country,” he said. “Do any of yours?”
    Clearly, he had heard the rumors
about great-aunt Beatrix escaping to the country after the scandal, although
why he would bring up such a topic on the dance floor was quite beyond her.
Alicia considered tripping him but settled for baring her teeth in a mockery of
a smile.
    “No,” she answered frostily. She
wished Mr. Morrissey would take his ill manners back to the country. She had
enough town gentlemen to tease her; she hardly needed any more.
    Unbidden, her mind conjured the
image of her mystery rogue. He had been the first man who seemed not to measure
her by her family’s actions. Of course, she’d happened upon him trespassing in
her house, so he was hardly in a position to be insulting. But a man who stole
to save his sister didn’t seem the sort to judge another person based on
skeletons in the closet.
    Mr. Morrissey had never been
interested in her after all. He toyed with her simply for his own amusement and
would have to be catalogued under D for disappointment.
    Even if he had wanted her, he
simply wouldn’t do.
    Alicia narrowed her eyes. She
wasn’t going to stand for such unpardonable rudeness. As the music ended, she
jerked out of his grasp.
    “Please do not mention any of my
relatives again,” she snapped and didn’t speak again until he’d returned her to
the chaperones.
    *          *          *
    The next morning, Ian tried to
relax his shoulders and release his tension with a brisk ride. He refused to
spook his horse by betraying his ill humor.
    What a cold woman. He had never
been more right than when he pegged Alicia Kinsey as a true London lady –
heartless and