Sinfully Yours (Hellions of High Street 2)

Pursing his lips, Devlin tried to think of any flaw he was missing, but things seemed well in order. The prince should be safe and the conspirator caught in the act, allowing the government to eliminate a very cunning foreign agent from British soil.

The only cause for concern was Anna’s role. He was starting to have second thoughts about having her lure Lady de Blois to the remote automata gallery. The comtesse might appear to be nothing more than a sexual temptress, but the fact that she was involved in a traitorous conspiracy meant she was scheming, cold-blooded, and likely dangerous as a viper if cornered. Anna was clever and intrepid, but if matched against someone who knew a number of sordid tricks—

He spun around at the soft click of the door latch releasing. “I was beginning to worry that you had been spotted.”

“I had to wait for the maid to finish dusting the suit of armor outside the Weapon Room,” answered Anna, after pausing to catch her breath. “I’ve sent Caro to alert McClellan that you wish to meet with him before assembling for the hunt.”

“I’ve asked one of the ghillies to deliver the same message, but thank you.”

“She wishes to feel involved in the action,” said Anna. “I can’t say I blame her. It is deucedly hard to accept being constantly told you are too young or too inexperienced to help.”

Devlin cleared his throat. “Then I daresay you aren’t going to like what I say next.”

The glint of anticipation in her eyes was replaced by a more martial light.

“We made an agreement,” he hastened to add. “You promised to withdraw if I decide things have become too dangerous.”

“Having proved myself capable of looking out for myself—need I remind you it was me who found the incriminating letters and then was quick-witted enough to escape without being seen—don’t you think that I have earned the right to argue the point?”

“We don’t have time,” he muttered.

“If you’re worried that I don’t know how to handle a pistol, you’re wrong. My father believed all his daughters should know how to defend themselves. Granted, I’ve not handled one of Manton’s pocket pistols, but the principle is the same. And I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent shot.”

“Lady de Blois might have a pocket pistol as well, or a dagger hidden away in her skirts,” he countered. “And no compunction about striking a mortal blow.”

“You’re worried that I’m not a match for her?” asked Anna in a measured voice.

“Yes.” A breath broke free from his lungs. “No. I’m worried that you might be hurt.” And I couldn’t bear it.

Her expression softened. “You don’t think I worry about you?”

“I’m just a big lummox, remember?”

“You are,” she said, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “And I must be a feather-witted fool, for my heart seems intent on overlooking such an egregious fault.”

Her heart? His insides gave an odd little lu

rch.

She eyed the mantel clock. “You’re right in that we don’t have a moment to dally in argument. Come, open your workroom, and let us fetch the pistol. At least let me show you that I know how to use it. If you’re not satisfied with my prowess, I’ll do as you ask and won’t confront Lady de Blois.”

Devlin knew he should not be swayed by that smile. “Very well. But I warn you that I won’t change my mind, regardless. It’s too dangerous.”

“Fine.” She said something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “We’ll see about that,” before adding, “We really must hurry!”

Pulling the key from his pocket, he led the way into his bedchamber. “I will likely regret this,” he muttered.

“No, you won’t,” answered Anna sweetly, as she took up a position at the head of his work table. “By the by, how is your feathery weapon coming?”

“It’s finished. You may have a look if you wish. It’s under the chamois cloth by the paint box.”

He heard a soft gasp as she lifted the covering. It was, he reflected a little proudly, rather a magnificent piece of work. The gold and jeweled detailings gleamed in the windowless light, and the actual workings of the weapon were an exact replica of the real thing. All in all, it was the finest thing he had ever made, and that she admired his handiwork—

“Actually Miss Sloane, I regret to say that Lord Davenport is right. He will regret this.”

Devlin whipped around to see Verdemont and Lady de Blois standing in the doorway. The vicomte had a pistol pointed at his heart. “And so will you, Miss Sloane.”

“I don’t know why the two of you chose to interfere with us,” added Lady de Blois. She, too, was armed, which didn’t surprise him. During their earlier interlude of flirtation, he had noticed that her eyes had a flat, reptilian coldness to them.