Free Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies] by Love, From London

sparked low in her belly. That flame had nothing to do with her investigation either. The kiss had been purely personal.
    Which was exactly why she could never let it happen again. No matter how useful a private relationship with her target could be. And no matter how much she longed for just one more stolen moment in his arms.

Chapter 6
    M eredith smoothed her gown as she took one last glance in the mirror. She smiled at her lady’s maid.
    “Thank you, Rebecca, that’s lovely.”
    The girl bobbed out a curtsey before she left Meredith with only her troubled thoughts. A night’s distance from Tristan’s shocking, searing kiss was hardly enough to forget, but it had helped considerably. It couldn’t have been as fantastic as she remembered. Her reaction had been part girlish surrender to a man she once had a tendre for and part surprise that things had progressed so far.
    At least, that was what she told herself during the long, sleepless night.
    But today was a new day. The case she was investigating would be her only focus from now on. Not kissing and not guilt. Only the case.
    She sighed with satisfaction. Already an encoded letter was on its way to Emily and Ana, filled with questions about Edmund Archer’s death and inquiries on the specifics of any legitimate business Tristan had with Augustine Devlin. Her friends would also compose a field report on her behalf for Charlie and Lady M.
    She frowned as she turned from her mirror and slowly made her way toward the dining room. The party would be having a late breakfast before the day’s events. Her mind turned on Tristan’s reaction to her conversation with Devlin. He’d warned her off the man who was behind so many dark and dangerous schemes, so he knew the threat Devlin posed. Yet he continued to work with, and perhaps for the man. Even if he took no pleasure in the association, there was a deeper connection than merely business.
    And she couldn’t ignore Devlin’s wry comment about the two of them being involved in “art” together.
    “Art theft, more likely,” she muttered before she put on a false smile and strolled into the dining room.
    “Ah, Lady Northam.” One of the women motioned her over to the breakfast nook where the others were gathering steaming plates of food and milling about for morning gossip and flirtation.
    Meredith’s heart gave a queer ache. For them, it was so easy. There was nothing keeping any of these couples from doing whatever their hearts desired. For the first time in a long time, she regretted her duty.
    “Good morning,” she said weakly.
    “Are you feeling better, my dear?” the woman who had called her over asked as she patted Meredith’s arm. She was the mother of one of the debutantes. A kind contributor to Meredith’s charitable works, she was one of the few “mamas” in the group who wasn’t lobbying outright for Tristan to turn his attention to her daughter alone.
    “Thank you, Lady Conville,” Meredith said and forced a brighter smile. “It was nothing but a slight headache. I’m sure it was brought on by travel.”
    The woman searched her face. “Are you certain? You look very pale, without your usual spark.”
    Meredith started. Normally she was able to hide her emotions and put up a glittering facade no matter what her troubles. If Lady Conville saw her worries, it would rouse suspicion and questions in others. Too many would not do. She liked being the one to ask, not answer.
    Straightening her spine, Meredith laughed.“You’re kind, but I feel very well today.” She motioned across the room to a young lady sipping tea. “Your daughter looks lovely. How old is she now?”
    Lady Conville’s focus faded at the mention of her child. “Eighteen years just last month.” She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a handkerchief. “She’s the last of my children. When I marry her away, I will have no one left, I’m afraid.”
    Meredith relaxed as she fell into comfortable habits. No troubling