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

savoring the last of a sumptuous luncheon with Violet Conville, Lady Conville’s daughter. The same one her ladyship had lamented marrying off earlier in the day. Normally, Meredith found no fault with the young lady. Of all the debutantes of the current season, Violet was the least frivolous and irritating. In fact, she had a serious, intelligent air that made her very appealing.
    Meredith had actually once mused she would make an excellent addition to The Society, if only she were a widow. An unmarried lady could never be expected to investigate the darkest underbelly of the Empire. She didn’t have the freedom to move about without a watchful escort, for one. And there were certain things a woman didn’t understand until she had experienced a wedding night.
    At the moment, however, all Meredith’s prior considerations for the young lady’s attributes were gone. She could have scratched her eyes out and never thought twice about it. Her conversation with Tristan looked so comfortable. Violet was from a good family, exactly the kind of young lady who would make a perfect marchioness.
    Meredith jumped as her sketching pencil snapped against the notepad in her hand, tearing a hole in the paper. Carefully, she unclenched her fist.
    Jealous? Was she actually jealous that a man she suspected of treason was spending time with another woman? It was utterly ridiculous. They had shared one burning kiss. It was a mistake.
    So why did it keep popping into her mind? When she closed her eyes, why could she feel the pressure of Tristan’s lips against hers? Taste the heady flavor of his mouth as it moved so slowly, so sensuously, against her lips, awakening dark, forbidden desires she thought she’d buried…
    With a start, she flipped her notepad closed and jammed it and her broken pencil into her pelisse pocket. She had to stop thinking about Tristan as a man and remember he was a suspect. These strange, powerful desires must be extinguished.
    With a scowl, she tore her gaze away from Tristan and Violet and scanned the crowd. She found Augustine Devlin. Sitting away from the main group on a low hill overlooking the lake, he observed the scene with as much focused intent as she.
    His gaze was currently pointed in the same direction hers had been. Tristan. Devlin watched their host’s every move with an unreadable expression. What did he see when he looked at Tristan? An ally? A threat? When she interrupted them the night before, their conversation hadn’t seemed particularly friendly.
    Perhaps Tristan was actually a barrier to whatever plans Devlin was making. Her heart soared with that thought, then sank when she remembered all the evidence against Tristan. And how desperate he was every time she delved too closely into his affairs.
    Devlin turned his head and caught her eye. She jolted. She’d been so preoccupied she had forgotten herself. Now Devlin saw her attention. Judging from the way he nodded in her direction, he marked her interest.
    With a quick wave of recognition, Meredith broke their stare and headed toward the main group, but she felt Devlin’s piercing eyes on her with every step.
    “Lord Carmichael, did you say there would be kite flying today?” she asked with what she hoped was an airy tone that didn’t reflect her turbulent emotions.
    Tristan had gotten to his feet while she was distracted by Devlin and turned toward her with a smile just as false as her own. For a brief moment she wondered what it would be like if theyremoved their public masks and simply stood before each other as who they truly were.
    “Yes, Lady Northam, that’s correct.”
    He nodded toward the footmen who had been attending to the group, and the men brought forth a few large chests. Once opened, they revealed kites made from all variety of colorful fabric, bright ribbons trailed from their tails and balls of string had already been attached.
    “The weather is perfect for this, Tristan!” Lady Carmichael beamed as she watched the