Clandestine Read Online Free PDF Page A

been too caught up in her baby’s charms to notice her brother’s uncomfortable stiffness.
    “Miss Emry died with James in that carriage accident. You yourself went to identify the bodies,” Linwood said.
    Kit’s interest peaked. She had heard about James Knight, Arthur’s older brother who had died just eighteen months before.
    “After such a tragedy, you did not attempt to contact her brother—Marcus, was it?—to inform him of her demise?” Linwood continued.
    A clink of metal sounded, followed by rustling and popping. Someone was stirring the fire to life. Arthur, perhaps?
    “Things were not that simple after James’ . . . death.” Was there a pause in Arthur’s voice as he said that? Odd. “Tracking down Miss Emry’s brother was not an immediate concern at the time. I honestly cannot remember if Marcus was contacted or not. I most certainly have no knowledge of his whereabouts. To be frank, I do not understand why he is of concern to you.”
    Someone shifted, pacing the floor, boot heels clicking.
    “There have been several attempted thefts at Kinningsley over the last two weeks,” Linwood said. “Twice someone has entered the house. Just yesterday, I awoke to find my guard dog dead and my office ransacked.”
    Kit stopped herself from sucking in an audible gasp. Oh dear.
    Was Daniel involved with these break-ins? And if so, why? What exact mischief did he have planned?
    Kit chewed on her cheek, mind churning through the possibilities. None of them pleasant.
    “I had heard,” Arthur replied, his voice placating. “Robberies are not uncommon, as you well know. Why someone poached three hens from our coops Thursday last, and Sir Henry’s butler caught a maid red-handed with a cravat pin.”
    The footsteps came closer to the desk. When Linwood next spoke, the sound came from directly over Kit’s head. She held her breath, praying he didn’t walk around the desk.
    “No. The attempts at Kinningsley are more serious than hen-rustling or a servant’s petty theft. I have several footmen keeping round-the-clock watch, but to truly stop these would-be-thieves, I must find the mastermind behind the scheme.”
    Did Linwood seem agitated? Was that even possible? The viscount seemed incapable of agitation. Obdurate even.
    “And you think Miss Emry’s brother is this mastermind?” Arthur sounded skeptical.
    Linwood shifted something on the desk above Kit’s head. She silently ordered her hammering heart to stay in her chest.
    “I am not sure,” Linwood said after a moment. “But as you well know, Napoleon is on the run, pulling back farther and farther into France. Victory is close. However, the French have spies among us who are determined to thwart this war at any cost, particularly with Napoleon in retreat. Miss Emry admitted to working within the greater spy network of Europe. We both know the future of Europe hangs on a knife’s edge right now. One tiny push one way or another, the slightest advantage, could make all the difference.”
    Kit tensed, teeth grinding. That same panic welled again. This was what she most feared. Daniel was so impulsive. Hasty. Impetuous. Please let him have nothing to do with this.
    But Linwood’s words buzzed angrily in her head. The French have spies among us . . .
    “Miss Emry and James were killed in that carriage accident nearly eighteen months ago,” Arthur said. “Why haven’t you pursued Miss Emry’s brother before now?”
    Linwood drummed his fingers on the desktop.
    Is that actual emotion I am sensing from him? He seems too antisocial for that. Wicked Angel murmured snidely. But then, Wicked Angel was almost always snide.
    “I am sure I do not need to impress upon you the confidential nature of this conversation.” Linwood’s fingers continued beating a steady rhythm: ta-ta-tum, ta-ta-tum, ta-ta-tum . Arthur must have nodded his consent because Linwood continued, “I have recently been given reason to believe that James and Miss Emry’s death was no