Page 16 of After the Spy Seduces

A shadow moved in the doorway to the connecting room, and Diana froze guiltily. Then she took a deep breath as Meri’s nanny came from her own bedroom, tying the belt of her dressing gown as she approached.

“I’m sorry if I woke you, Mrs. Davenport,” she whispered. “I just wanted to look in on Meri before I went to bed.”

“No apologies necessary, miss.” The woman reached the side of the bed and smiled down at the little girl. “She’s a sweet thing, she is. Never any trouble to speak of.”

“Never,” she agreed softly, unable to resist stroking a fingertip across Meri’s cheek.

Hiring the kind nanny to care for Meredith when they’d arrived in England and settled in at Idlewild had been a stroke of brilliance by her mother, proven by how well the woman had cared for Meri during that awful time when Mama fell ill and died. Meri had been just old enough to know that Mama was no longer with them, and days of listening to Meri’s inconsolable cries and screams for Mama had nearly destroyed Diana.

Pushing down the terrible memories, she focused on the little girl in front of her. “Did she eat dinner?”

“Aye, miss. And played well, too, ’til t’was time for bed.”

Guilt pricked at her. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t here to tuck her in.”

“The general put her to bed, with lots of silly stories about fighting dragons.” Her face beamed. “The wee one loves her father a great deal.”

Her father? No. She didn’t.

Diana blinked. Over the years, she’d grown used to unexpected pricks of grief like this until that was all she needed to right herself. One hard blink. But tonight, thanks to her fear for Garrett and Carlisle’s intrusion into her life, it wasn’t enough, and she had to turn her face away before Mrs. Davenport saw any stray emotion lingering there.

“Has she played with the new doll I gave her?” Diana forced a smile, yet worried that the sadness behind it would be visible.

“Not yet, miss. But you know how children are. She’d rather play with that raggedy old horse you gave her last year than with pretty new things.” Mrs. Davenport reassuringly rested her hand on Diana’s shoulder, but Diana knew it wasn’t out of any deeper sympathy than for the unwanted doll. “She’s lucky, that one is, to have you for her sister.” Her hand fell away, and her voice quavered. “Poor duckling…what a shame that she has to grow up without a mother.”

“Yes,” Diana choked out in a rasping whisper through her tightening throat. “What a shame.”

Chapter 5

The Next Night

Seven Dials, London

The door of the brothel’s upstairs room swung open to the sound of a prostitute’s peeling laugh and lecherous growls from the man with her. He grabbed her around the waist to simultaneously yank her through the door and bury his face in her cleavage.

From a chair positioned directly across the room, Kit cleared his throat. “Good evening.”

The bear of a man froze as the lightskirt gave a short scream of surprise. Lifting his head from the woman’s bosom, he narrowed his gaze as Kit leaned back in the wooden chair, his boots kicked up upon the washstand and his hand holding a pistol pointed directly at the large Russian’s chest. Nikolai Ivanov’s face broke into an icy smile. His only movement was to possessively rest a hand over the woman’s bottom, making no mistake that he’d purchased the ginger-haired cockney for the night.

“I did not pay for an audience,” Ivanov drawled in a syrupy aristocratic Russian accent. “And I do not need any help with what to do with this one.”

He slapped her bottom so hard that she jumped.

She wheeled on him, scowling in irritation. When she began to stomp away, he grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back to him, his other hand covering her breast. The woman stilled, knowing not to struggle. Ivanov had paid for her, and at this particular brothel that meant he could do anything he liked to her, short of maiming and murdering. Mrs. Smith’s establishment provided very particular services for very particular customers. Which was why Kit had surprised Ivanov here, when the man’s guard was down.

Kit coolly slid his gaze to the woman and nodded toward the door. “Jenny, would you please go downstairs and have yourself a cup of tea?”

By the astounded expression on her pretty, young face, she hadn’t expected that.

“I’d like a few minutes alone with the gentleman, if you don’t mind.”

He tossed her a sovereign, and she snatched it out of the air, downright flabbergasted. She knew him. He’d spent enough time here chasing leads and contacts that he was familiar to all the girls. But he’d never paid one before.

“She stays,” the Russian growled like an attack dog and hunched his shoulders. “You will leave. Now.”

Kit calmly cocked the hammer of the flintlock. “I will kill you where you stand,” he mockingly mimicked the rhythm of the man’s speech. “Now.”

Gritting his teeth, Ivanov grudgingly released the woman’s wrist.