Page 67 of A Relentless Rake

“Who?”

“Lady Rowland.” He flipped up the collar of his greatcoat even though he welcomed the biting cold of the night air. “I’m pursuing her as our new lead.”

“What about the sister?”

He couldn’t make eye contact with Reed. “She’s exhausted as a mission asset. She doesn’t know anything else.” He looked down to tug at his gloves. “Tell Clayton I’m switching my focus to Lady Rowland. I have hopes she can lead us to Scepter.”

And hopes he never had to see Olivia Everett again.

He turned on his heel and stalked away.

Seventeen

Standing in the middle of Lady Gantry’s musicale, Alec nodded as he tried to concentrate on what Sir George Pittens was saying about the new canal bill that was expected to come up in Parliament. He’d been cornered by Sir George as soon as he’d arrived, and now he found himself trying to maintain a political discussion about a bill whose merits he couldn’t have listed and whose outcome he cared even less about, no matter how emphatic the gentleman’s argument. Tonight, his attention belonged to a woman.

Unfortunately, she was the wrong woman.

Olivia Everett stood on the far side of the room, flanked by two of her charges from the school. The two girls were both overly excited by their first official social outing, yet she kept them firmly in place at her sides as if they were battle shields.

Perhaps they were. After all, she knew he was here, despite the determined way she ignored him. Her ramrod-straight back, the square set of her shoulders, the way her eyes swept through the room every few minutes and noticed everyone but him… Oh, she was keenly aware of his presence just as much as he was of hers. Of every move she made, in fact, right down to the way her fingers trembled as she tucked a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear because she knew he was watching her.

He should have been watching Lady Rowland instead.

“Don’t you agree, St James?”

“Pardon?” He glanced at Sir George, who stared at him with an expectant look. He was clearly awaiting an answer, and Alec had no idea what the question was.

“The canals, man,” Sir George exclaimed. “What do you think of the canals?”

He didn’t. His attention was too focused on the woman he was supposed to be following and the woman he couldn’t seem to forget. So he dodged, “I haven’t made up my mind.”

That non-answer seemed to appease Sir George well enough that the man prattled on anew about the benefits of waterways and lockkeepers in hopes that he could yet win Alec over to his side. Whatever side that was.

Alec couldn’t have cared less, and his attention drifted once more to Olivia.

Even in her plain muslin dress, she was the loveliest woman in the room. The elegant stretch of her neck, that pert little nose that turned up just slightly at the tip, those expressive blue eyes, her lilting laugh— Whenever she laughed at something Lord Gantry said, the sound floated across the room to him, as musical as tonight’s performance, and pierced into Alec’s chest like a blade.

Yet Olivia’s presence was no concern of his. Tonight, his focus belonged to Lady Rowland.

Or it should have.

He forced his gaze across the room to the baroness. He’d been following her for the past two days, since she met with Everett at Vauxhall. That meeting linked her to Scepter…but in what role? She wasn’t high-ranking or powerful enough to be part of the group’s leadership, and for all their claims for radical revolt, he was certain they weren’t progressive enough to place a woman into their upper ranks. So what did she want with Everett?

So far, though, Alec had gained no new answers, while Reed was still tracking Everett, and Clayton was still hunting down the Home Office’s mole. But at least Alec’s part of the mission was easier now. After all, Sydney Rowland and he were invited to the same society events, so he didn’t have to depend upon his mother or sister to arrange for invitations to be near her. And he no longer required a mask to hide his identity.

His gaze strayed back to Olivia. He missed those heated flirtatious exchanges with her when he was anonymous and not the Earl of St James. He’d never been more himself than when he’d been behind that mask. He missed her softness yet admired her courage, missed her capitulating kisses yet craved the hellcat in her, missed her sharp mind—

Christ, he missedher.

But he also couldn’t trust her.

Pale blue eyes caught him staring and held him powerless for a heartbeat before flicking away. Her nose rose into the air in a silent cut.

Damnation.He tossed back the last of his wine. He owed her no explanations, no apologies. She was simply another woman who’d snared his desires, that was all. He would replace her in his thoughts and in his arms soon enough. In fact, he was tempted to approach the opera singer Lady Gantry had hired for the evening and arrange to spend the night with her. A beautiful and curvaceous Italian just to his taste, she’d been casting interested glances at him all evening. It would take little to get himself invited to her rooms beyond a flirtatious smile and a pretty bauble of some kind.

Yes, that was exactly what he should do. It was what hewouldhave done just a few weeks ago. But now—

Lies. All of it. Because now he only wanted Olivia. The woman who had deceived him.