Sebastian's Lady Spy Read Online Free Page A

us.”
    He swallowed, the bleakness abating a bit. “Thank you.”
    Riggs knocked on the door and entered. “Lord Claybrook, my lady.”
    Wilcott straightened and Gabrielle witnessed a transformation in him. He buried his inner turmoil and became the snooty aristocrat whom everyone knew him to be. “I will take my leave, then,” he said.
    “Will you attend the Buchanan ball tonight?”
    He paused. “I wasn’t planning to.”
    “I just thought…if you do, I will save a dance for you.” It was the least and the most she could do. If he danced, people wouldn’t suspect. Then again, if he danced with
her,
people would talk. And not in a good way.
    His expression cleared and he smiled. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile. He was such a stern man, clinging outwardly to manners and protocol. Now she knew why.
    “Thank you, Lady Marciano.”
    “You may call me Gabrielle.”
    He inclined his head. “Thank you, Gabrielle.”
    Sebastian entered, halting any further conversation. Lord Wilcott bowed to her, nodded to Sebastian, and left. Sebastian watched him go with a frown, and Gabrielle’s heart skittered. He was dressed not so somberly as the night before but no less exquisitely, in buff breeches and a midnight blue coat and waistcoat. The man could steal the air from the room. He most definitely stole the air from her every time she looked at him.
    “What did
he
want?” he asked in the abrupt way she was coming to expect from him.
    Gabrielle forced herself to smile and step forward. “Why, good afternoon, my lord. So nice of you to call upon me.”
    He scowled at her and looked around, his gaze resting on and then skipping over the furniture, the paintings, and the vase of purple lilies on a small table by the settee. “I told you I would call on you.”
    “Yes, you did. I hope nothing was amiss last night.”
    His gaze flew to hers. “Amiss?”
    “You left so abruptly after our dance, I feared something had happened.”
    His scowl deepened. “You know I’m not pleased with this mission, and if you think I will dance attendance upon you and fawn over you like Wilcott, then you are sorely mistaken.”
    Gabrielle’s back teeth came together as heat climbed up her neck and into her face. “I don’t expect you to fawn over me; however, our mission is to convince the
ton
that we are courting.”
    “The mission is to find a spy, and regardless of what Atwater says, I’m not convinced that dancing all night, drinking afternoon tea, and riding through Hyde Park in the morning will accomplish that.”
    “Oh? Is that your way of asking if I would like to go riding with you today? Why, I would love to, thank you very much.”
    He tilted his head and lifted a brow in a disbelieving look. The horrible thing about all of this was that he was just too handsome for his own good, with that midnight hair and the blue eyes that she knew could heat to flames of passion, though now they were cool as ice chips.
    “What was Wilcott doing here?” he suddenly demanded, piercing her with his cold eyes.
    “Calling on me.”
    “Why?”
    She drew back. “Why?”
    “What does he want with you?”
    “Not that it’s any of your business, but he wants me as his mistress.”
    His jaw muscle ticked and his eyes narrowed, creating creases at the corners that never failed to intrigue her. “You told him no.”
    He was so sure of himself, so matter-of-fact, that she almost said she was thinking about it. “Why is this any concern of yours?” she asked.
    “Because apparently I’m courting you, and I don’t want competition.”
    “Maybe you need competition,” she teased.
    His lips didn’t even twitch in a smile. Where was the man she’d known seven months ago? What had happened to him?
    “Atwater says we are to ‘encounter’ each other at the Buchanan ball tonight,” he said, seeming to ignore her statement.
    “I’m aware.”
    “I’ll arrive a few hours after the ball begins. I expect you to be there on