Free To Kiss A Spy by Jane Feather

younger sister as she arrived at the foot of the stairs. Pen hadn’t seen Pippa for close on a month and as always she had missed her.
    “Pippa, I wasn’t expecting you for another three days.” She hugged her tightly. “Are Mama and Lord Hugh here too?”
    “Yes, at Holborn.” Pippa’s gaze had immediately found Owen d’Arcy. Her eyes widened and she whispered into her sister’s ear, “Who’s that?”
    Pen turned, her arm still around her sister’s waist. Owen d’Arcy stood smiling expectantly. She was about to make the introduction when a loud hail from the path distracted her.
    “Oh, it’s Robin,” Pippa said, momentarily forgetting Pen’s companion. “He has been
beside
himself. Robin . . . Robin . . . it’s all right, Pen’s here now. She’s quite safe!” she cried. “Someone brought her back.”
    “Chevalier d’Arcy at your service, madam.” Owen took his cue and stepped forward. He bowed, his bland countenance hiding his swift appraising scrutiny of Pen’s sister.
    Robin arrived beside them, out of breath, his cap in his hands, his thatch of nut-brown curls windblown. His brilliant blue eyes held a mixture of anxiety and relief.
    “What happened? Where have you been?”
    “Princess Mary said you had stayed overnight at Bryanston House,” Pippa chipped in. “But we knew perfectly well you would never have done that.” Even as she spoke her gaze remained on the chevalier.
    “The water steps were so crowded and it was so cold that I foolishly decided to strike out on my own,” Pen explained. “I ran afoul of a crowd of beggars. Fortunately, Chevalier d’Arcy happened on the scene and came to my rescue.” Her hand went fleetingly to her bandaged neck.
    Robin’s gaze swiveled to the man still standing by the wherry. Suspicion darted across his countenance.
So this was Owen d’Arcy. Was his rescue of Pen pure coincidence?
    He looked back at Pen and noticed her torn cloak and the glimpse of bandage beneath. For the moment he dismissed Owen d’Arcy. “You’re hurt!” He stepped quickly up to Pen.
    Pen shook back the hood of her cloak to show the bandage. “It’s not as bad as it might have been. The chevalier took me to an inn he knows at the Horseferry steps. The tavern keeper was very kind, although it was so late at night. She had salves and bandages so I could cleanse the wound. It needed to be done immediately,” she added, wishing she didn’t sound so apologetic. It made it seem as if there had been something wrong about Owen’s intervention. Something she needed to hide.
    Was there?
    “You had an adventure,” Pippa declared in a tone of wonderment. “How strange, Pen. It’s usually me who has adventures.”
    “I assure you, Pippa, you’re welcome to them,” Pen said. “That one will last me a lifetime.” She laid a hand on Robin’s arm and said, “I don’t believe you’re acquainted with the chevalier d’Arcy, Robin. Chevalier, this is my stepbrother, Robin of Beaucaire.”
    Robin bowed stiffly to Owen, his mouth tight. “I’m honored, sir.”
    Owen returned the bow with an ironic little smile. Pen’s stepbrother was not in the least honored by the meeting. “The honor is all mine,” he murmured.
    Pen frowned at Robin. She could feel him as prickly as a hedgehog, his usual courtesy and good humor quite absent. Why would he dislike Owen d’Arcy? Maybe it was because the smooth, immaculate Owen was such a contrast with his own somewhat haphazard appearance. The chevalier had not a hair out of place. Robin on the other hand was tousled, his hose and doublet were ill-matched, his shirt collar was unbuttoned, and his short gown was slipping from his shoulders as if he’d dressed in haste. This indifference to his appearance was perfectly usual for Robin and ordinarily she would barely notice, but this morning his dress seemed particularly careless.
    She said swiftly, “I’m not exaggerating, Robin, when I say that the chevalier saved my life.”
    Robin