The Devil May Care (Brotherhood of Sinners #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

fatal distraction.
    His universe lurched.
    Emotions he could hardly name rushed in at him, against all rational control: grief, confusion, and a mad desire to run to her, lift her from the ground and spin her about and scream and weep and laugh. And beg her forgiveness again and again.
    It took every scrap of will he possessed to hold himself where he stood. To squeeze shut his eyes. To let the seconds pass until sanity returned.
    Thank heaven, Miss Covington didn’t turn towards him until after he’d opened his eyes again, and had pulled himself back under control. And when she did turn and find him standing there, she blushed . Blushed clear down to her collarbone, a charming rosy shade, and raised a modest hand to hide the plunging neckline of her gown.
    Not a gesture Sal would have made. Not in a thousand years.
    Instantly, his universe righted itself.
    He sucked in a rich gulp of air.
    And grinned at her, a deliberately mocking grin. “How very charming you look, my dear,” he drawled, letting his eyes drift casually, assessingly over her form, as any other man who’d walked in on her might have done.
    As his eyes swept upwards again, they met her gaze for a moment, and he was surprised to find her eyes looking vulnerable. Nervous. Not remotely like her usual calm, Quakerish self.
    At that, a new relief swept through him, relief to the very core of his bones. He almost laughed. She would fool no one . No one who’d known Sal would ever take this shy, uncertain, blushing creature for one of the most brazen courtesans in Western Europe.
    The game was up. It was all over. He could wash his hands of her.
    His smile became utterly genuine.
    But then her maid turned from smoothing out the fabric of the skirts, and fixed him with a beaming look. “Oh, Lord Hawkesbridge!” Jenny exclaimed. “Isn’t it amazing?” She stretched out her arms, gesturing at Miss Covington like a prize sculpture. “If I hadn’t pulled that awful gray frock off her and unwound that knot of hair with my own fingers, I’d swear it was Sal herself standing here!”
    His lungs constricted again.
    Jenny had been Sal’s lady’s maid for years.
    And her confidante, the closest thing Sal had allowed herself to a female friend. Jenny had known Sal clothed, naked, asleep, awake, drunk, exhausted, injured, exultant, at her best and at her worst, in her very most private moments.
    “Truly, Jen?” he managed to choke out. “You’d take her for Sal?”
    “Oh, yes, sir! Of course! Every inch identical!” Jenny—plain, honest, country Jenny—never lied. She was staring at Miss Covington, shaking her head in apparent wonderment, her brown eyes glazing with tears. “Oh, forgive me, Miss,” she said, her voice breaking as she pressed both hands to her mouth. “You just . . . you look just like my mistress!” The tears spilled over Jenny’s cheeks. “It’s like having her here again! A miracle!” The maid’s face crumpled then, and with a great choking sob she ran from the room.
    Sebastian watched Jenny go, largely because the alternative would have been to continue gazing at Miss Covington.
    His heart pulsed, and he felt acutely conscious of being alone in the room with her.
    And painfully aware of her bed, just a few feet away.
    What the deuce ? He’d never felt the least awkwardness with Sal, never been susceptible to the charms that worked so well on other men. They’d been alone thousands upon thousands of times. Slept in the same room, even, or in the same hayloft or wine cellar or in the dirt under some scraggly bush, whenever a mission demanded it. There’d never been the least temptation to transgress the terms of their friendship.
    So why did his skin on the side nearest Miss Covington seem to chafe and glow as if he were standing before a fire?
    At last, Miss Covington broke the lengthening silence. “Well, what do you think?” she asked quietly, a slight tremor in her voice. “Do you find me at all