Surrender to a Wicked Spy by Celeste Bradley Page B

gesture, nothing like her mother's. "Olivia, someday I must tell you how I repeatedly tried to attack Nathaniel. He would have none of it. It nearly drove me mad at the time, but in retrospect, I believe it was good that we grew to know each other a bit first."
    "Oh dear. How long did it take?" She hadn't much wait in her, she feared.
    Willa gave a tiny, secret smile. "A week. I'm irresistible."
    Having seen Lord Reardon's moonstruck gaze when he looked at his bride, Olivia could well believe it. "How do I do that—be irresistible?"
    Willa bit her lip and gazed at the ceiling for a moment. "I hadn't considered it, but… I think the most irresistible thing is that I find
him
irresistible. I believe men like a woman who likes them."
    "I like him," Olivia said, her voice low. "Enormously."
    Willa smiled and patted her hand again. "Well, then it's only a matter of time."
    "Hmm." Olivia narrowed her eyes at her new friend. "I notice that you never answered my first question. Is it wonderful?"
    Willa widened her eyes and shook her head emphatically. "Oh no."
    The door opened and the gentlemen entered at last. Willa smiled across the room at her husband, her gaze every bit as moonstruck as his. "It's not wonderful," she said dreamily. "It's
divine
."
     
    It had taken most of the evening, but the Lion, the Cobra, and the Falcon were finally alone. They'd had to hint broadly to their host that the semiconscious Wallingford had required Cheltenham's personal attention to see that he was sent home safely.
    When Olivia's father left the room at last, Dane leaned his elbows on the table. "Meeting called to order. Prince George must be controlled."
    The Cobra nodded thoughtfully, but the Falcon only raised a brow. "What manner of check have you to offer, then?"
    "A mistress, chosen by Prince George himself from an array of ladies we present to him…"
    It didn't take long to convince them, although the Cobra expressed reservations about the Hunt Ball proposition. "His Majesty hates Scotland. You know he'd rather spend time in Brighton with his pet soldiers."
    The Falcon slid a cool glance in his direction. "Leave that to me. He'll be there."
    The Cobra narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps we all ought to be there."
    Dane shook his head. "The ladies invited will be a carefully chosen selection. All married to loyal men, all having borne their husband's heir, all women who feel free to dally outside their vows."
    Marcus made a noise at that. Dane shot him a quelling glance. Then he tilted his head at the Cobra. "Your lady does not qualify."
    The Cobra blinked. "I should hope not!" Then he shrugged. "Yet I could bring her. His Majesty won't cross that line, I can assure you."
    The Falcon frowned. "Why not?"
    The Cobra held up his hand. "My lady's business and not relevant anyway. Suffice it to say that His Majesty's bond to Willa is… avuncular, at most."
    Dane shrugged. "That is yours to judge. I could use the reinforcement. You know how he can be when he feels hard-pressed."
    "I shall join you after the ball to review the results," the Falcon said. "I'm staying close to Derbyshire in case Barrowby passes. In the meantime, I have decided it is time to review the utility of the Liar's Club."
    Dane leaned back and grinned, his point won. "I like that lot. Bunch of rowdies, but I like them."
    The Falcon twisted one side of his lips. "I'd like them better if the Chimera had not hidden in their midst for the last year."
    The Cobra held up a hand. "That isn't quite true. As Denny the valet, he was never made privy to the inner workings of the club. He knew more than a servant should have, I'll grant you that, but he never knew everything, and he certainly never learned about us."
    The Falcon didn't look pacified. "I'm none too sure about that. I know you think those attempts on your life a few weeks ago had more to do with your involvement with that ring of French spies—"
    The Cobra shook his head. "He knows nothing but a few decades-old stories about