Sylvia Day - [Georgian 04] by Don't Tempt Me Page A

alert, which was the intent. Eddington was not a friend. There was no reason for the earl to decide to visit unannounced and uninvited so soon after Simon had left his employ.
    Leastwise, no welcome reason.
    Simon heard the sound of silverware making contact with china at the same moment a footman bowed to him and gestured toward the dining room.
    “My lord,” Simon greeted as he entered.
    The earl looked at him and smiled. “Good morning, Quinn.”
    “Is it?” Simon moved to the walnut buffet, where covered salvers kept food warm. He briefly wondered what the cook had thought of the menu request. He could not remember the last time he had enjoyed morning fare, as he usually began with the midday meal. “I am not often awake at this time, so I’ve no notion of what constitutes a ‘good’ morning or not.”
    Eddington smiled and resumed eating, supremely casual and confident as if he owned the house he dined in. Like most members of the peerage, he assumed his surroundings were his to control.
    “Personally,” the earl drawled, “if I find myself waking with an attractive woman beside me, I consider it a fine morning indeed.”
    Simon laughed and settled into a chair without a plate of food. The aromatic smells of eggs and kippers made his stomach revolt. He gestured for tea instead. “Why are you here?”
    “May I eat first? The food on the ship left much to be desired.”
    Contemplating why the earl would come here of all places, Simon’s gaze moved along the cloth-covered length of the table, then around the room. He frowned as he noted the minuscule floral pattern in the golden damask that covered the walls. He had never noted the flowers before and wasn’t certain he liked them. “Can you not eat and speak at the same time?”
    “Not while maintaining my dignity,” the earl retorted.
    Simon’s examining perusal returned to his guest. The earl was a figure of some notoriety in England, lauded for his dark handsomeness and exquisite garments. Women flocked to him and he cultivated his libidinous reputation with relish. The nearly foppish façade was brilliantly affected to deflect suspicion. It was difficult to believe that a man so concerned with his appearance would have any time remaining to head an elite organization of English spies.
    “I may return to bed, then,” Simon said with more than a trace of irritation in his tone. He had no need to await anyone’s regard.
    “Very well.” Eddington sighed and set his utensils down. “Privacy is in order.”
    Simon nodded to the servant who had poured his tea, then waved the man away. The two footmen by the entrance also retreated, closing the door behind them.
    “Since you left Jacques and Cartland in my care,” the earl began, “we’ve had the opportunity to question them at length. Both men have been extremely forthcoming, and Jacques, in particular, has a great deal of valuable information to share.”
    “How fortunate for you,” Simon said dryly.
    “Yes, but it also raises a great deal of questions. Mademoiselle Rousseau was traded for a dozen men. In addition to that expense, Jacques and Cartland were forfeited. We need to know why she is so important to the Illuminés .”
    Lysette.
    Simon arched a brow. The woman would forever be in trouble of some sort or another. “ You need to know,” he corrected. “I do not care.”
    “You will care,” the earl said, “once you understand the stakes involved.”
    “I highly doubt that. Regardless, it would be wiser for you to stay with someone else. Someone who has no known history of aiding the British Crown.”
    “But you may require my assistance.” Eddington reclined insolently into the high-backed chair.
    “With what?” Simon’s hands wrapped tightly around the curved arms of his seat. “The only activity I am presently engaged in is carnal pursuit. I assure you, I can manage that task well enough on my own.”
    Eddington ignored the jibe. “You spent some time with Mademoiselle