Sinfully Yours (Hellions of High Street 2)
“So I suggest we lay our cards on the table, so to speak.”
When he didn’t react, Anna let out a small huff of impatience. “Must we continue to play games, sir? You are clearly up to something havey-cavey with your secret lists and midnight forays.”
“So you wish to know yet more of my secrets?” he asked.
“It seems only fair. You know mine.”
His voice turned a touch harder. “All of them?”
“Well, yes. Isn’t the fact that I write racy novels enough?” Her brow pinched in consternation. “Ye gods, what other horrible deeds do you imagine I am doing?”
Unless his skill at judging people had gone wafting off with the North Sea squalls, she was telling the truth. The question was, should he respond with the same candor? Baring his private business arrangement with Thorncroft and the Home Office was not nearly as comfortable as baring his body.
“You have to admit that your skulking around the castle in the dead of night does raise some unsettling questions,” he replied. “Like why you would have cause to visit the Gun Room at midnight?”
“Research,” she said tersely. “I needed a closer look at the mechanisms of a rifle for the next scene in my book, and for obvious reasons didn’t wish to answer questions as to why.”
“Ah.” Ducking under the low archway, Devlin led her into the enclosed rose garden.
“As for my other forays, I was following you,” continued Anna. “Which leads me to the fact that you, sir, still have a great deal of explaining to do.”
As in a game of high stakes cards, a quick decision was called for. “I suppose I do owe you an explanation. But first I must have your solemn promise that you’ll not tell a soul what I am about to reveal. Not even your sister.”
She took a moment to think it over. “That’s a reasonable request, assuming I have the same promise from you about keeping mum about my secret.”
He nodded.
“Excellent. Then we have an agreement.” Her lips curled up at the corners. “Do you wish to for us to prick a finger on one of the thorns and sign a pact in blood?”
“Such drama would make an excellent scene for Emmalina and Count Alessandro,” responded Devlin. “But no. I am content to take you at your word.”
“Thank you.” She set a hand on her hip, a gesture far more eloquent than words in conveying her impatience to hear what he had to say.
“You are correct in thinking I am here not merely to shoot Lord Dunbar’s birds or drink his excellent wines. I have been asked by someone in the government—
“Who?” demanded Anna.
“Never mind,” he said brusquely. “There’s no reason you need to know his identity.”
She scowled but didn’t argue, which he took as a signal to go on.
“I have been asked to keep an eye on Prince Gunther. As you know, he is not only a relation of the King, but also the sovereign of a small state in a region that is key to our alliance against Napoleon. The political situation there is rather tense at the moment, so if any accident were to befall him, it could have grave consequences for our country. That is to say, if we can’t protect the King’s own relative, how can we be counted on to be a reliable ally.”
“I see.”
Devlin was sure that she did. Anna was far too clever not to grasp the ramifications.
“So you are saying that the prince is in danger of being murdered by one of our fellow guests?”
“Not exactly. The man I work for says the information is unclear. There may be no threat at all. In which case I have wasted the effort of coming north.” He shrugged. “But as I am well paid for my time, I have little reason to complain.”
“You and the Home Office,” she mused.
“I didn’t say I worked for the Home Office.”
“Oh come now. Who else would be handling a threat to the King’s relative here on British soil?”
Damn. She was sharper than any other lady of his acquaintance. He would have to remember to be very careful with his words.