His Silken Seduction Read Online Free PDF Page B

Bonaparte’s agents know where your sympathies lie?”
    “No, of course not.”
    “Forgive me for seeming to doubt you. I had to be sure. Now, are you prepared for a little spying on your own account?” When he nodded, she smiled broadly and told him exactly what she wanted him to do.
    Suzanne was humming to herself as she raced up to Marguerite’s room. Guillaume had provided her with the perfect excuse for visiting Benn, though she had no intention of telling him that the house was being watched. Such disturbing news would merely serve to frustrate him. Poor man. It was taking such a long time for his wounds to heal.
    She reached the door and raised her hand to knock. What if he was asleep? She put her ear to the door. Nothing.
    There was another way. Taking her keys from her pocket, she unlocked the door to the silk store that had been created in the gap between the walls of Marguerite’s bedchamber and her own. There was no window inside, of course, and she had not thought to light a candle so early in the evening. So she unlocked the door that led from the store into her own bedchamber and threw it wide. Light flooded in. A stray beam caught some fine red silk shot with silver, making it glitter like a spider’s web hung with dew. She smiled with satisfaction. She had woven that silk with her own hands.
    He had to do something. But what?
    Ben continued to walk quietly up and down between the bed and the window. He was safe enough for the moment. He was sure he could not be seen from the street below, and he had taken care to step softly so that no one in the house would suspect what he was doing. Regular exercise had made his legs almost as strong as before, and his upper body was improving, too. He paused for a moment to swing his right arm, which still hurt him whenever he raised it above his shoulder. He was relieved to find that the pain was becoming bearable at last.
    He could enlist Guillaume’s help, though he doubted that even the two of them could deal with this danger. The watcher opposite might appear to be alone, but there were bound to be others, probably quite close. In a busy city street, a pistol shot would be worse than useless. They could try kidnapping the man, but that might bring even more of Bonaparte’s agents down on them. They might start to search from house to house.
    No, the solution was to watch and to wait. Ben had to ensure that nothing happened to draw the watcher’s attention on to the Grolier house.
    He risked one more glance into the street. The watcher was still there, but making no effort at concealment. Perhaps he was not a spy after all? Ben shook his head at his own naivety and continued with his furtive exercise program. It was safest to assume that the watcher was a spy unless there was proof that he was not.
    A slight noise startled him, breaking his train of thought. Was someone there? He was safe enough, he knew, for he had locked his door before starting his exercises. He would tell his visitor to return later, by which time the door would be unlocked and he would be safely back in his bed, to all appearances still an invalid.
    Suzanne was still smiling as she relocked the door to the landing and turned to unlock the door to Benn’s bedchamber. First, she listened again. This time, she fancied she could hear some kind of movement, but it was strangely muffled. He must be awake after all, but what on earth could he be doing? If she opened the door, would she see something that would embarrass them both?
    Taking care to make no noise, she inserted the key into the lock. She hesitated. Did she dare?
    Of course she did. Their house was being watched by the enemy. They might all be arrested at any moment. She and Benn might never have another chance to be alone together. Compared with that, what was the risk of a little embarrassment?
    She turned the key, rapped a quick warning knock on the wood and opened the door a little way. “Forgive me, Benn, I…” She took one