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“Sleep well, Wilhelmina.”
The duke had said that Lord Rafe was in some kind of trouble. If she knew what kind of trouble it was, she could be the one to fix it for him, and he’d be so grateful that he’d agree to her plan.
The problem was that in order to set her plan in motion, she needed to actually speak with Lord Rafe. She couldn’t write him a letter—what she had to say must be spoken in person.
Her uncle had said Thorndon was staying at his club. Obviously Lord Rafe would know that as well, and so it would be clear for him to return home after the ball was over.
It was high time she stopped dreaming about becoming a secret agent and tested her capabilities in the real world.
She’d pretend to go to bed, wait until Grizzy was asleep, and embark on her very first clandestine mission: sneaking into Lord Rafe’s chambers.
If he were there, she could make her proposition. If he weren’t, she’d search the apartments for clues about the trouble the duke had alluded to.
Mina had kept a satchel packed and ready for a swift escape ever since her parents had perished. She’d even attempted to run away from Sutton Hall, but Uncle Malcolm had swiftly found her and brought her back home.
He had a network of informants spread throughout England and the Continent.
Tonight she’d take the first steps toward true freedom.
If only she’d been able to bring the red silk dress with her. After she’d changed back into her ball gown, she’d reluctantly left the red silk in the garden shed, bundled up and hidden in the workbench.
This mission called for invisibility and stealth.
Let’s see, she would need a dark cloak. A stout rope. Sensible boots.
And her trusty pocket pistol.
Three hours later, Mina crouched in the shrubbery outside of Lord Rafe’s bedchamber window at his nearby Mayfair town house, which was adjacent to his mother’s town house where the ball had been held.
She’d scaled his iron gate and made her way, silent as a mouse, around the back of the town house to the courtyard, stopping at the mews to examine the carriages.
Lord Rafe’s dashing cabriolet had been missing. He wasn’t here, which meant that instead of convincing him to become her partner, she’d be searching his apartments for information about his whereabouts, debts, current mistress, and other salient details of his life that she might use as leverage.
A few more minutes and then she’d climb the low wall and enter through a window left helpfully ajar. It was either a sitting room or a study. The bedchambers were on the floor above.
She crouched low, hidden by rosebushes from the house, but able to observe everything.
The house was dark and silent.
Thorndon was probably snoring in his bed at his club. No doubt he was dreaming of finding a demure, biddable country lass to milk his Cornish cows and churn his... butter.
Not that she should be thinking about Thorndon.
Only... there was the garden shed, halfway between the two houses. Inside that shed she’d entertained all manner of wild fantasies.
He’d held her wrists trapped over her head and flattened her against the wall with his overwhelming strength and muscular body.
She’d longed for him to kiss her. Touch her.
Wrong desires.Wrong brother.
Chapter6
Walking with MissPenny in a field of daisies, petals open to the sunshine, bees buzzing around their heads.
All the time in the world. No reason to rush.
No one to see them but the sheep. They could make love in the summer breeze.
