Charming a Spy by Elizabeth Chance

miss my brother so much.”
    “I know Ms. Dubois. I know you didn’t mean any harm. If you’ll excuse me for a second, I think I need a drink.”
    Kat watched him walking away to the side table where he poured himself a generous draught of whiskey. She felt bad about being so forward with him. Obviously she hadn’t meant to open old wounds for Rafe. For Luke’s sake though, she had to ask the questions.
    “What was all that about?” Maribel asked, joining Kat.
    “Oh, I’m a terrible bother. I brought back painful war memories for Mr. Grier. I only wanted to know if he knew anything about my brother, but talking about it hurt his head.”
    “Did he have any new information?”
    “He was there and saw Luke rush into battle, but nothing else.”
    “I’m sorry, Kat darling,” Maribel said, grasping her by the shoulder.
    “No, I’m alright,” Kat said, bolstering herself up. “Please, don’t mention anything to my aunt. I don’t want her to have an attack of hysterics right now. She hates it when I talk about Luke… keeps telling me I should let him rest in peace.”
    “Of course I won’t say anything,” Maribel answered. It was the second time in one evening Maribel had come to her rescue. It was good to have friends when you needed them.

Chapter Fourteen
    ‡
    G eoff could not wait to get Katherine alone. Ever since she used her female charms and said there was something he could do for her, he was salivating about the possibilities, most of them inappropriate and likely even impossible. Untying her corset. Removing her stockings. Scratching her itch. A deep, wet itch. What she needed was probably less titillating, but when it came to Katherine, he could not prevent his lesser mind from doing the thinking.
    Throughout the night, he sought opportunities to talk to her without the prying ears of others… to no avail. He shouldn’t be surprised that in a house full of mothers and daughters, all vying for his attention, privacy didn’t exist. His impatience gnawed at him like a dog, regardless.
    Unknown circumstances were conspiring against him and Katherine being together. During dinner, she was seated at the other end of the table with Trig Trannen while Geoff was stuck listening to Mrs. Townsey’s interminable chatter about Ivy’s painting skills. After the meal he suffered through the men droning on about French weaponry, of which they knew virtually nothing, while they drank his finest spirits and smoked his imported cigars.
    As soon as he could reasonably leave, Geoff stepped into the hall, intent on finding Katherine.
    “A word, Sir?” Pennington, dressed in household livery and masquerading as a footman, stopped him in the hallway.
    “Will this take long?” Geoff asked in as haughty a tone as he could muster in case any guests unintentionally overheard their conversation.
    “It won’t be but a moment,” Pennington replied with appropriate deference. He turned and led Geoff out of the hallway, through a servant’s passage to an unoccupied salon.
    Pennington pulled back the curtains and looked out the windows while Geoff double-checked the hallway to ensure they were alone.
    “What have you learned?”
    “It’s about Ms. Dubois,” Pennington said almost apologetically. Geoff’s stomach knotted in anticipation of unwanted news. The visceral response alerted him to his loss of objectivity. Dammit. He’d been hoping whatever Pennington drudged up would concern the Griers instead of Katherine.
    “Let’s have it then,” Geoff urged.
    “Katherine’s father, Antoine Dubois, was a Bonapartist. Prior to moving to England, he was one of the key ministers who pressured the directors to resign, effectively allowing Napoleon to rise. Then he moved to England, where he lived for twelve years until he died in a carriage accident.”
    “Why would a prominent Bonapartist move to England?” Geoff asked.
    “Our solicitors were able to recover some letters he wrote to his mother around that time.