Page 55 of How the Earl Entices

Ross laughed. “Thank heavens for bored shipping heiresses!”

He was more grateful than he could ever express to Evelyn Winslow for delivering the message, and to Kit for believing her. For the first time since he jumped into the Channel, he had hope.

“Ellsworth sent me here, but…” Perplexed, Kit glanced around the old groom’s quarters. “What is this place?”

“A property he lets out to an artist for use as a studio.” That was as much of an explanation as Ross was willing to give. He was one of a handful of people who knew the secret life that the Marquess of Ellsworth was leading, and he planned on keeping it that way. Even from his brother. “And the only safe place for us to stay in London.”

Kit arched a curious brow. “When didyoubecome anus?” He sat on the chair, settling in for a long story. “Start from the beginning, and don’t spare the details.”

With an aggravated sigh, Ross leaned against the wall and told his brother everything that had happened during the past few weeks, from the moment he found the list of names and could finally make all the connections between Wentworth and the French. Kit knew about the original letter, knew about Sir Henry’s murder and why Ross was relentless in hunting down the traitors. But he didn’t know anything about the past month, how Ross stole the list of names from the embassy, how he found the other documents that all pointed to Wentworth’s guilt. So he detailed his every move, until he reached the point where he’d forced his way into Grace’s cottage. Then details became heavily censored.

Kit listened intently, without interrupting. Thank God. Because he had every right to sayI told you so.

As an agent working secretly for the Home Office, his brother had been invaluable in providing advice and connections during the past year. But Kit had thought him reckless from the beginning for going after Wentworth alone and had warned him that there would be no one to help him if something went wrong. That had launched the fiercest argument of their lives, with Kit publicly threatening to become a vicar in retaliation.So my older brother won’t be the only one who martyrs himself,he declared right in the middle of Lord Hawthorne’s ball the night before Ross left to return to Paris. He’d departed without a goodbye from his brother, not knowing when—or if—he’d ever see Kit again.

But now, Christopher was here, coming to his assistance when he needed him. Ross had never felt more gratitude for his brother in his life.

“And the woman?” Kit prompted as Ross reached for his shirt to dress.

He yanked it on over his head and tucked it into his breeches. “Her name is Grace Alden.” Or at least, that was the name she used. It rankled him to know that she still didn’t trust him enough to share her true identity. “I came across her in Sea Haven, and she agreed to help me travel to London.”

“You’re in London now. So why is she still with you?”

A damnably fine question. “Because in exchange for helping me, I agreed to help her secure her son’s inheritance.” Not a lie. But also not the reason she was still with him. Kit was right. He should have sent her packing back to Sea Haven by now, promising to help herafterhe was exonerated. Whenever that was. Ifthat ever was.

No. The reason she was still here was that he simply didn’t want to part from her.

“What does that entail, exactly?” Kit pressed, the suspicious agent in him rising to the surface.

“Hire a solicitor, make a few inquiries, serve as a character witness…” He shrugged a shoulder and fastened up the half dozen shirt buttons at his neck. “I told her that I couldn’t make any promises on how successful I’d be.”

Especially if he went to the gallows. Which was still a veryreal possibility.

“There are lines that agents should never cross with their assets.” As Kit kicked his boots up onto the washstand and leaned back in the chair, he eyed Ross with a close scrutiny belied by his casual posture.

“Then it’s a good thing that I’m not an agent and she’s not an asset.” He shrugged into his plain brown waistcoat and grumbled, “And no lines have been crossed.”

Although not for lack of trying.

That thought only tightened the coil of frustration inside him until he thought it might just snap. No other woman had ever gotten to him the way Grace had. And not only physically, although he certainly wanted that pleasure. No, the woman had proven herself to be so much more than just a beautiful companion. Brave, brilliant, fierce, determined—

For once, he found himself respecting a woman for more than her physical attributes. It was damnably disconcerting.

“Does she know what you’ve been up to?” Kit asked quietly.

“Yes.” He grabbed the hem of his waistcoat and yanked it into place.

“Yet she didn’t turn you over for the reward.”

“No.” He pulled at each shirtsleeve in turn. “She’s loyal.”

When Kit said nothing, Ross glanced up at him, and his brother wordlessly leveled an accusing stare.

“No lines have been crossed,” Ross repeated firmly.

“Yet.”

His mouth twisting in aggravation, he smacked a hand at Kit’s boots, to make him drop his feet to the floor. More out of irritation that his brother could practically read the thoughts swirling through his mind than so he could use the mirror over the washstand to tie his neckcloth.