Sari Robins by When Seducing a Spy Page A

eyes fixed on the brown-haired young lady dressed in black bombazine. In addition to the costume, there was an aged sadness in her doe-like eyes that let everyone know that she was in mourning.
    “The widow? The one who doesn’t speak?”
    Smiling, Bills nodded. “Oh, she gets her message across when she wishes to.”
    “I can’t believe you’re taken with a woman who’s still grieving for another man.”
    “I’m not taken,” Bills huffed. “More like curious. Why would a woman suddenly lose the ability tospeak? It’s unnatural; women live to hear their own lofty opinions.”
    “You mean she wasn’t born mute?”
    “It happened when her husband was ill. When he lost his capacity to speak, so did she. Very odd.”
    “What’s odd is that you know so much about her when we’ve been here less than an hour.”
    “While Lady Blankett was interrogating you, I had a lovely chat with Ginny. What a dear.”
    Heath blinked, amazed by his friend’s natural charm. “Ginny?”
    “Lady Genevieve.”
    “Are you on a first-name basis with everyone in the society?”
    “Not with your Tess. She’s kept away from us, ostensibly to visit with some of the other applicants, the countess and some others. Or hadn’t you noticed her absence?”
    Of course, he’d noticed. Heath seemed aware of Tess at a very elemental level. He knew where she stood, when she drank, when she was present, and he felt, more than saw, when she departed. It must be having her under investigation that caused such sensitivity to her actions. For there was no other good reason to be so concerned with a woman he hardly knew, and he was the last man on earth to succumb to her feminine wiles.
    As Lady Blankett murmured in the countess’s ear, the lady’s brown gaze flitted over to him and Bills with interest. The woman next to the countess, a stout lady with mousy brown hair and a round, jolly-looking face, turned to them, making no secret of her examination. The lady murmured something to Lady Blankett, then Tess entered the conversation and a heated exchange ensued.
    “What do you think they’re talking about?” Heath wondered aloud.
    “My guess is that they’re trying to decide how to include us in the normal course of things while ensuring that we feel excluded.”
    “They don’t have to work very hard at making us feel out of place,” Heath murmured, sipping from the delicate teacup. “Between the paper-thin china and dainty furnishings, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells for fear of inadvertently crushing something.”
    “We may be bulls in a china shop, but as I said, we’re the only bulls in the running. Not a bad way of things.” Straightening, Bills smiled as Tess, Lady Blankett, the countess, and the stout lady approached. The widowed Lucy moved over to a group of young ladies by the window and motioned for them to join her at the secretary.
    By the lines creasing around her blue-green eyes, Heath supposed that Lady Blankett had to be about fifty years of age. She motioned to the new duo. “Mr. Smith, Mr. Bartlett, may I present Countess di Notari and Miss Gammon.”
    The men bowed and expressed the appropriate responses of honor and privilege.
    Surprisingly Tess hung back, not saying a word. Yet her crystal blue gaze was watchful.
    “Like you, I, too, wish to join the society.” Thecountess’s musical voice betrayed her Italian origins. “Yet I am inordinately qualified. And you”—her smile was thin.—“are not.”
    “I don’t see the trouble of it.” Miss Gammon waved a chubby hand. There was warmth in her blue gaze, and her lips seemed to hover on the brink of a smile. From her accent and manner, it was clear she was English. “The more the merrier, as far as I’m concerned.”
    “Thank you, Miss Gammon,” Heath intoned, liking the amiable lady.
    Lady Blankett explained, “Countess di Notari made her application a few weeks ago, while Miss Gammon is new to us today.”
    The countess sniffed. “Miss