Sebastian's Lady Spy Read Online Free

modiste of your choosing—”
    “I’m in no need of new gowns at this time.”
    “Jewels—”
    “I have plenty.”
    His mouth opened and closed. He clutched the head of his walking stick. “I don’t believe you understand, my lady.” His voice had fallen to an alarming tone that had Gabrielle straightening her back. She wasn’t a fool. She had any number of weapons secured in this room, as well as her very capable butler on the other side of the door, but Wilcott put her on edge. Why hadn’t he left the walking stick at the door along with his hat and gloves? Walking sticks were a common accessory for men, but it bothered her that he still possessed his. In the future she would instruct Riggs, her butler who was also a bodyguard, to require that all walking sticks be left at the front door.
    “I can offer you a house, clothes, jewels, and freedom.”
    “Rarely does any of that come with freedom, my lord.”
    His eyes brightened and he nodded vigorously. “Precisely, my lady. We could set up appointments.”
    She stood abruptly, taking a slippery hold over her growing anger. “You offend, my lord. I will
not
be shared among your friends.”
    “No, no.” Wilcott had hastily stood when she did, and now he reached a hand out to her. She quickly stepped away from him. “That’s not what I meant at all.” His hand dropped to his side, and he looked away as a flush crept up his cheeks.
    Something in Gabrielle softened at his vulnerability. “My lord, if I may. Find a nice, biddable woman and marry her. You could lavish your jewels and modistes on her instead of a stranger.”
    “I can’t.”
    “You can’t?”
    “I can’t…marry. Even though I know I will have to someday.” He laughed, the sound dry and painful, and he still wouldn’t look at her. “My title requires it, after all.”
    “Why can’t you?”
    He folded his hands on top of his cane and looked at her steadily. “I need the respectability of a mistress so people won’t talk. Because I’m in love with someone else.”
    “If you love this girl so much, then marry her.”
    “She’s not a female, Lady Marciano.”
    Not a…Oh. Not much shocked Gabrielle, but this did. The very proper, uptight Lord Wilcott was in love with another man.
    “Like I said, we could make appointments. I could arrive and leave after a prearranged amount of time, but there would be no…” His color rose again and he cleared his throat. “It would all be for show.”
    “My lord, I do apologize, but I am simply not available for such an extended commitment.” Ah, but if she were, she would seriously consider his offer. What greater way to avoid the unwanted attentions of the gentlemen of the
ton
and be able to live her life as she wished. But she was not allowed to live as she wished. She was a weapon of the crown, unable to pick and choose whom she slept with and consorted with.
    Her heart went out to him, for in many ways they were alike: he bound to his proclivities, she bound to the crown that had plucked her from certain death and given her a second chance. Both living a lie that, if discovered, could cost them everything.
    His expression was so desperately bleak that she almost hurt for him. And to think that all this time she’d thought ill of him. It proved that people could be completely different on the inside from what they portrayed on the outside. She was a stellar example, after all.
    “You won’t even consider my offer?” he asked quietly.
    She drew in a deep breath and said just as quietly, “I cannot, my lord.”
    He pressed his lips together and appeared thoughtful before nodding and looking down at his hands, folded over the head of his walking stick. “I understand. If I may beseech you, my lady, to keep this conversation between us. I would be ruined should word leak. When I do eventually marry—well, that might not even be a possibility if rumor went around…”
    “You have my word that this conversation will stay between