The Spider's Touch Read Online Free PDF

will be your ally. Just do not let it lead you. You must be the master of it. There is no place for carelessness in the duello. It will only lead to a contretemps , which is not a good thing.”
    “I shall try to keep that in mind, monsieur.”
    They put their swords away and walked to the center of the house. At the top of the marble stairs they parted, Andolini to his room to collect his belongings, Gideon to his chamber to dress for a solitary meal.
    Today’s lesson had been their last. Gideon was sorry to see the master go. They had enjoyed conversation over their meals, and the lessons had been invaluable. During their sessions, too, Gideon had come close to rejoicing in the use of his body and in the challenge of meeting someone whose skills were superior to his own. But caution, which had to be used in a classroom in which two men were armed with épées, with no protection from their blades, had kept the exercise from quieting his restless soul. He needed something unrestrained to purge him of his unhappy thoughts. He wanted something to make him burn, a sense of purpose, a quest, or a goal. But everything he truly cared about had been torn from his reach.
    Andolini’s sympathy was the first he had received since his last meeting with Hester Kean, which perhaps was the reason why, while Andolini had been speaking, an image of her had briefly entered his head. Gideon had seen her again the way he had seen her last, standing in her bedchamber with the neck of her bodice untied. He did not know why that particular memory should have come to him then, though he had visited it many a time. Andolini had certainly looked nothing like Mrs. Kean.
    Mrs. Kean, in fact, had not looked very much like herself at that moment, when he had startled her in her room. He had waited too long to inform her of his presence, to warn her before she removed the modest piece of cloth at her breast. But it was the curve of her neck that had made him hesitate. The graceful sight of it in the glow of her candle had provoked a huskiness in his throat—one that he had been forced to clear before speaking.
    Then, her look of delight when she had turned had startled him. Her face had lit with so much welcome. Shock, he had expected. Even fear, for how could she have known for certain that he would never hurt her? They had been completely alone, with the thickness of the Abbey walls between them and anyone else. But she had been certain of her safety, and her pleasure in seeing him had warmed him in the most unsettling way.
    She completely forgot the opening at her throat, until he reminded her of it himself. And then she showed such a pretty confusion, the sort of girlish emotion that he had never expected to see on her face, for Mrs. Kean had always seemed such an imperturbable girl. She had never flinched when he had abducted her, had not shrunk when he had asked for her help in a murder involving treason, and had not screamed when she had watched him put a sword through a villain. That a little thing like an opening in her gown could throw her out of countenance brought a smile to Gideon’s lips every time he recalled it. He had actually tried not to recall it, for the pleasure it brought him was inevitably followed by the lowering realization that he might never see Mrs. Kean again.
    Shaking off this memory again, Gideon dressed himself in a fresh linen shirt with a long, ruffled jabot. He completed his costume in the style négligé , leaving the neck of his shirt open, the collar loosely turned down, and his waistcoat unbuttoned. He had lost his valet Philippe along with everything else, but he was not of a mind to replace him yet. He could not think of taking on a personal servant until he knew what his next step would be.
    On top of his dressing table lay a paper that he had found waiting for him the moment he had arrived at St. Mars. It had been sent with no message attached. Gideon picked it up and stood musing over it for, perhaps, the