Mistress of Scandal (Greentree Sisters 3)

Sebastian had spent a wasted afternoon watching one of Mrs. Slater’s other houses. After another conversation with Dipper, he’d made his way to Hackney. Dipper believed Mrs. Slater lived here, in a sober-looking house with curtained windows, although she was rarely seen. Her neighbors knew her as Mrs. Brown.

If she was here, Sebastian didn’t see her. She might well have gone into hiding, warned that he was seeking her. By the spy who had given him away in the first place. He had yet to discover the identity of that person, but he had his suspicions. That was the reason he’d set Pretty Polly on the trail.

Dipper was as proud as punch. “Yer’ll see, guv’ner, she’ll find yer snitch for yer.”

Sebastian was just preparing to go out again, to see how Pretty Polly was managing, and then to hunt up another acquaintance who owed him a favor, when there was a knock on the door.

Sebastian frowned.

Martin, his manservant, had yet to return from his own assignment, and Sebastian kept only one servant. He rented these rooms, and they were large and comfortable, but most important of all, they were private. He rarely gave out his address because he didn’t like visitors. He didn’t trust many people enough to tell them where he lived.

The knock came again, this time more vigorously, as if whoever was out there was determined to be let in. He put his eye to the hole he’d had drilled through the wood for the purpose of inspecting his callers. It gave him a clear view of his visitor.

Sebastian’s mouth twitched upward.

Miss Francesca Greentree, looking extremely attractive in a dress the color of a tropical sea, with her dark hair swept up under a fetching straw bonnet. If he wasn’t very greatly mistaken, she had been touched by the hand of a London modiste. Had she come to dazzle him with her new finery?

Well, he was dazzled.

He opened the door.

Her bright eyes widened. Those beautiful lips parted in a half smile, as if she were mocking him, or herself, or both of them. “Mr. Thorne,” she said in her melodious voice. “I find I need your help after all.”

He bowed and stepped back to allowed her entry. Lil, her maid, trailed after her. At least she’d the sense to bring a chaperone. After the kiss in the hackney cab, Sebastian didn’t trust himself alone with her, but he relished the challenge.

“Come in and sit down, Miss Greentree. Tell me what’s troubling you.”

She was examining her surroundings. The sitting room was furnished with some of his favorite pieces, and she paused a moment in front of the Gainsborough, admiring his grandmother.

“What a beautiful woman.”

“Yes.”

“She looks like you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Oh?”

He could see her watching him, considering whether it was polite to ask more questions. She changed her mind, perching herself on a straight-backed chair and folding her hands neatly in her lap.

“Someone is following me.”

His gaze sharpened. “When did this happen?”

“We went shopping in Regent Street today…”

He smiled, letting his gaze run over her just enough to annoy her. “I noticed.”

She flushed and a crease appeared between her brows, but she didn’t drop her gaze from his. “He was also in the street on our way home. He was watching me. I’m not mistaken and it couldn’t be a coincidence.”

“Did he threaten you? Do you think he meant you any harm?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I am here, Mr. Thorne. You seemed to believe I was in danger, and you’re the expert.”

“Ah, now I’m an expert.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “I never disputed that, Mr. Thorne. I’m sure you’re very good at what you do.”

He leaned forward, keeping his eyes on hers. “Oh, I am. Very good.”