Clandestine Read Online Free Page B

throat.
    But like too many goose feathers stuffed into a pillow, eventually someone would hit her on a weak seam, causing a virtual explosion of Kit to burst out of her mouth.
    Take this evening, for example. Everyone had stared when Kit disagreed with Lady Ruby, insisting that buttercup yellow was a horrid color for just about any complexion and no woman with taste would ever wear it.
    Ruby had not been amused.
    You really need to hold your tongue. The risk is too great, Virtuous Angel chided.
    But only for now. Once we find Daniel, you can march right up to Ruby and tell her that no amount of rouge will make her look thirty again , Wicked Angel snickered.
    Kit studied the drawer currently opened. Again, expense ledgers and filed correspondence. She tilted the candle to better examine the papers. Nothing.
    She drew in a deep, stuttering breath.
    She had maybe five more minutes before her absence from the drawing room was considered overlong and someone came looking for her. Though hopefully that someone would not be Mr. Jedediah Knight, Arthur Knight’s cousin and Lady Ruby’s son.
    She now knew why Lady Ruby’s previous companion had quit so abruptly. A week of fetching shawls and dodging Jedediah Knight’s wandering hands had shown her, more than anything, how protected, pampered and sheltered her life had been up to this point.
    Ironic that. Particularly given how un -protected and un -sheltered she had always assumed herself to be.
    She had just opened the last drawer in the desk when footsteps sounded in the hallway. Kit slid the drawer shut and froze, listening intently. The rumble of Arthur’s voice reached her, talking with another low male voice. They wouldn’t come into the study, would they?
    The door handle moved.
    Why, yes , indeed, they would.
    Instantly, Kit snuffed her candle and dove under the desk, grateful for its paneled front hiding her from view. It was a tight squeeze as she had never been accused of being a smallish sort of woman.
    Tall and overbearing? Yes.
    Statuesque and shapely? Certainly.
    Petite and demur? Uh . . . no.
    She had spent years coming to terms with the fact that men would always be intimidated by her size. Probably because most had to look up into her eyes.
    Well, who was she fooling? It was still a struggle. Did any woman truly love everything about herself?
    Men either treated her as uninteresting wallpaper or viewed her as some freak-show trophy to be shown off.
    Though, being about five inches shorter would be helpful in a situation like this. Kit winced as she wedged her knees tightly against her chest, ensuring all of her dress made it underneath with her. Her head twisted awkwardly against the under side of the desktop.
    It was a literal reminder of her current situation. Stuffing herself into a too-small container.
    The door creaked and two sets of footsteps sounded through the room. She rested her head on her knees and took several slow breaths, trying to quiet her thumping heart.
    “I tell you, Linwood, I have no information about Miss Emry’s brother.” That was Arthur. Kit knew his voice by now.
    Which meant the person with him was that haughty viscount she had met earlier at dinner: Lord Linwood.
    “Come now, Arthur. I cannot believe that to be the case.” Linwood’s voice dripped sarcasm.
    Kit could see Linwood as he had looked all evening. Dark haired with nearly colorless pale gray eyes. Meticulously—she would say even fastidiously—groomed in a glove-tight blue coat and tan trousers. And tall. He topped her five-foot-ten-inches by half a head.
    The chilly February weather had swept inside with him, literally and figuratively. He had responded icily to all inquiries during dinner.
    Even Marianne, Arthur’s wife and Linwood’s younger sister, could not thaw him. Not even when she encouraged him to hold her tiny two-month baby, Isabel—Linwood’s only niece. The baby had cooed at him, adorable and trusting. Though as a glowing new mother, Marianne had