The Impostor Read Online Free Page A

match her feelings—stricken, stunned, dazed.
    She could not bear to look at him any longer.
    Bowing her head, she curtsied.
     
    Sebastian would have known that the woman with whom he had just danced was not Jane Cameron, even if Francis had not warned him.
    It was not that she did not behave as flawlessly and correctly as his old mistress. But he would have guessed the truth the first moment the impostor had offered to dance with him.
    Jane had always hated dancing with him, and when pressed to do so, had always moved very carefully, as though he could not be trusted to support her weight. But this woman had danced with him as though they were one, and despite the strangeness of it, he had known, as he held her in his arms, that he could not remember ever desiring a woman as much as he had desired the false Jane Cameron.
    What sorcery had she used, what unnatural seduction?
    In an attempt to clear his brain, he recalled what Francis had told him about her. Her name was Tessa Ryder, and she was the daughter of a telepathic captain on Wellington’s staff. Sebastian had never met Tessa Ryder before, but he remembered her father, Edward Ryder, a short, round, balding man whose unprepossessing exterior hid an incredibly powerful Gift. They had served together on Wellington’s staff during the Peninsula campaign, but Sebastian had not seen the older man since the British occupation of Madrid in 1812.
    Francis had not been able to tell him a great deal about Tessa Ryder. Her Gift, as tonight proved, was shape-shifting. According to records of war dispatches kept at Whitehall, Francis had ascertained that she had carried out missions in both Spain and Portugal, though Sebastian, racking his brain, could recollect no such woman. Her missions must have been of the highest secrecy.
    Remembering Edward Ryder, Sebastian found it difficult to believe the man’s daughter could turn her back on her father, not to mention her country, but Francis had indicated that Tessa was the lover of the Gifted French agent Pierre Sevigny, a man responsible for the deaths of countless good men during the war.
    Looking down now at Jane Cameron’s face, he wondered what the true Tessa Ryder looked like beneath the mask of her Gift.
    He bowed, and she sank into a low, graceful curtsy.
    “My lord,” she said. “I need to speak with you.”

Chapter Three
    As they departed the dance floor, Tessa automatically took the arm Sebastian offered her, clinging to him as though to a lifeline.
    “I am at your service, Miss Cameron,” said Sebastian. His voice sounded odd and a little rough.
    “Not here,” said Tessa. “Alone.”
    When he did not answer, she looked up at him. He watched her with an intense, unreadable gaze, and Tessa, her heart clenching, wondered if he knew that she was not Jane Cameron, if she had not given herself away, dancing with him.
    But he merely gave a brief nod of his head.
    “If that is your wish, Miss Cameron.”
    He looked neither right nor left as he pulled her through the crowd. Once or twice one of Jane Cameron’s friends or admirers would recognize her, but Sebastian looked so forbidding that no one detained them for more than a few moments. A muscle twitched in his jaw as a tall, portly young man attempted to pay his compliments to Tessa. As they swept through the gold drawing room, she caught a brief glimpse of Harriette Wilson’s stunned face.
    Tessa glanced uncertainly back up at Sebastian. His eyes were very black. The grip of his hand on her own was so hard it was almost painful.
    They paused only once, to retrieve their cloaks and Sebastian’s thin ebony walking stick from a footman at the door. The elegant black and gold Grenville carriage was already waiting for them as Sebastian led her out into the warm night and down the steps of Carlton House.
    She had never ridden in such an expensive contraption, but she was too nervous to do more than glance at the sumptuous interior as Sebastian handed her up. He