Sweet Revenge Read Online Free Page B

instant, but he covered his displeasure with a bland smile. “So, you think that you are capable of rising to the occasion, Lord Saybrook?” Again the gunmetal gaze raked over the earl’s legs. “Despite your infirmity?”
    “I assure you, sir, my infirmity does not affect my performance.”
    The minister folded his well-tended hands on his blotter. “And yet, according to the surgeon’s report on you, the French saber cut perilously close to your manhood. I wonder . . .”
    Saybrook maintained a mask of indifference. “Do you anticipate that the job will entail swiving one of the witnesses?” He paused for a fraction. “Or buggering the cook?”
    “Are you fond of boys, Lord Saybrook?” countered Grentham.
    “Not unnaturally so,” he answered.
    “And women?”
    “Why do you ask?”
    “Let us just say that I am curious,” replied the minister.
    “And let us just say that I am not inclined to satisfy your curiosity.”
    “You are very clever, Lord Saybrook. But cleverness can sometimes lead a man into trouble.”
    “So can stupidity.” Appearing to tire of the cat-and-mouse word games, Saybrook regripped his cane. “If you wish to speak about the assignment, let us do so. Otherwise, I will return to my town house. You have obviously read a thorough dossier on me, so I imagine you have already decided whether you think me fit for the job.”
    “A written report can tell only so much about a man,” replied the minister. “I prefer to judge for myself before making a final decision.”
    Saybrook started to rise.
    “Please sit, Lord Saybrook.” Papers shuffled. “I’ve been told that you are—for lack of a better term—an expert in chocolate. Might I inquire how you came to be so?” An edge of sarcasm crept into his voice. “Assuming that I am not offending your delicate sensibilities with my questions.”
    “My Spanish grandmother passed on her knowledge to me,” replied Saybrook. “In Andalusia, she was renowned for her healing skills, as well as her cooking talents.”
    “Cooking,” repeated Grentham as he plucked a page from his notes and reread it. “Your grandmother was a countess—is that not correct?”
    “Yes. But in Spain, highborn ladies have a different notion of what is—and isn’t—beneath their station. Cuisine is not menial labor—it is an art. As is healing,” said the earl. “She was interested in the medicinal properties of many foods and plants, including Theobroma cacao .”
    The minister frowned.
    “The Latin name for the tree that yields cacao beans,” he explained. “I studied botany at Oxford before joining the army.”
    “A strange combination.”
    “Not as strange as you might think,” said Saybrook. “The ancient Aztec soldiers used chocolate as a stimulant—”
    “I am not interested in a scientific lecture,” snapped Grentham. “What I want to know is this—in your learned opinion, could chocolate in and of itself have poisoned the Prince Regent?”
    “No,” replied Saybrook without hesitation. “If, perchance, the Prince had an intolerance to the cacao fruit, he would have suffered an adverse reaction from drinking a beverage made from the beans. And according to my uncle, Prinny has enjoyed his morning chocolate for years.”
    “True,” mused the minister. “So, who would you consider the prime suspect?”
    “I do not yet know enough about the case to form an opinion.”
    “Well, we don’t have a great deal of time to ponder the question, Lord Saybrook.” Grentham steepled his well-tended fingers. “I assume Mr. Mellon has explained the situation.”
    The earl inclined his head a fraction. “Next month, a secret delegation of our Eastern allies is due to arrive in London for talks on how to end this interminable war. Napoleon’s counteroffensive in Spain may be losing ground, but he has rebuilt the army shattered by the retreat from Russia into a formidable force and has taken personal command of the troops. Once again he is