The Reluctant Earl Read Online Free PDF

refusing to budge from his defense of the doorway and forcing her to sidle closer. The subtle scent of lavender pulled at his senses as his fist locked around the parchment. “Thank you. Now the rest, if you please.”
    “My lord?”
    “I want to know how—and especially to whom—you’ve been transferring your...discoveries.”
    “I—I don’t know.” She retreated farther into the room—farther from him.
    Warning bells clanged in his head. Despite the still-proud tilt of her chin, her gaze focused once again on a spot above his head. So, she would yet lie. Sympathy for the cause? Or did she protect someone, someone with a complaint about the government? She herself did not suffer unduly like most of the truly poor. “Oh, I think you know.”
    Another pause, another hesitation. Then she said, “I leave notes in the stable.”
    “And you haven’t so much as an idea who retrieves them?”
    “Whenever I’ve returned the next day, I find my note gone and my fee in its place.”
    “Your fee.” He lounged against the door, feigning a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He could ask who recruited her to spy on Sotherton, but no doubt she would lie again. Why would someone pay for details about the government’s responses? The truly desperate had no money for food, let alone espionage. Julian sensed a sinister hand behind her involvement. “So you would sell your country for a few pounds sterling?”
    Stillness settled over her shoulders, like a shroud cast over the room. She stared into the flames of the fire, offering him a view of her face in profile. “A French shell destroyed my idealism a decade ago.”
    Her father? Brother? Long-dead fiancé? Another burst of sympathy lanced through his lingering anger, but he thrust it away with reminders that no matter her reasons, she was a traitor to her country and the family who employed her. He shifted away from the door. “I ride at first light. Come to the stable at half past eight.”
    “Ride?”
    “We can’t continue to meet this way, Miss Vance.” He swept an arm toward the room in a grand gesture. “My sister won’t allow it, and you’ll be of no use to me unemployed.”
    “My lord, as you yourself have remarked, I am a mere governess. I haven’t sat a horse since...”
    “A decade ago?” He echoed her subdued words of a moment ago. “I’m sure the groom can find you a suitably passive mount.”
    “Nor have I the proper attire.”
    “This is not an occasion to display the latest fashions, Miss Vance—nor is this a request. Unless you wish to conduct further conversation in my bedchamber tonight or before Lord Sotherton on the morrow, I suggest you meet me at the stable. You seem the resourceful type. Use your ingenuity.”
    “But what are you going to do about—”
    “I’ll inform you of my decision then.” He yanked open the door and waved her into the hallway. “Good night, Miss Vance. And pleasant dreams.”
    * * *
    The next morning, Julian was stroking the nose of Sotherton’s favorite bay stallion when Miss Vance shuffled into the stable. He checked his watch—precisely twenty-six minutes past the hour. Punctual, as he would have expected. A dark velvet hat, its nap displaying its age, shadowed her face, and her drab coat hung loosely on her frame, as if this winter of scarcity affected even her.
    In the dawn of a new day he pushed aside those feelings of connection and concentrated on his anger and indignation. “Good morning, Miss Vance. On time, I see.”
    “As you commanded.” She nodded but refused to meet his gaze.
    Bothered by a guilty conscience? He scoffed at the notion. In his experience, traitors didn’t feel such regrets, not even when they were a trusted friend and colleague. But this time would be different. This time he would not be the victim. This time he would use her as surely as she’d sought to use him.
    “I trust you rested well, my lord?”
    “Not particularly.”
    She flinched, as if she interpreted his