A Spy's Honor Read Free

to Lord John, for the supper dance has already begun,” she offered. “Your partner must wonder where you are as well.”
    He shrugged and led her around the outskirts of the room in an uncomfortable silence. Claire didn’t like the smell of him or the way he breathed. She scanned the rapidly thinning crowd for Lord John, but before she spied him Lord Landry veered off into a corridor.
    “My lord!” Claire tried to plant her feet, but he clamped down on her arm so tightly she could only skitter along beside him. “Sir, please unhand me. What will everyone think?”
    He turned another corner, his breath quickening. Shadows enveloped them. “I hardly care. If we are caught out, our marriage will be that much more expected.”
    He stopped suddenly and shoved her against the wall. Even in the dim light she could see his eyes were no longer dull and lifeless.
    He held her in an iron grip with one hand, and with his other he reached up and pinched the back of her arm. She cried out.
    “Yes, that’s it. Show me how much it hurts.” He did it again, harder, and pressed in on her.
    This time when she yelped in pain, he covered her mouth with his. He continued to pinch her, swallowing her screams with his rough kisses. Tears streamed down her face as he ground against her.
    When she yanked her arm free and shoved against his throat, he pulled back, smirking. “Oh, yes, you’ll do nicely.”
    Panic stole her breath away. Then a commotion at the end of the hall captured her attention. A man, humming loudly to himself, weaved his way down the passage. He bumped into a table, nearly knocking over a vase, and cursed.
    “Father!” Oh, thank goodness. Claire steadied her wobbly legs and rushed to him. “Lord Landry just molested me!”
    That brute stepped forward, shaking his head. “I was, perhaps, a little overeager for our forthcoming nuptials. I apologize.”
    Claire’s father struggled to focus on her. “’S’all right, girl. Nothin’ wrong with a man stealing a kiss from his intended.”
    “But, he hurt me!”
    “He’s jus’ excited,” her father said, patting her arm.
    “Indeed I am,” Landry replied. “I’ll have the special license the day after tomorrow, and you’ll have your three thousand pounds.” He winked at Claire and sauntered away.
    “Father?” What kind of nightmare had she awoken in? He meant to sell her to Landry?
    “You’ll marry. Day after tomorrow. Need the money.” He belched. “Got travel plans.” With that, he stumbled past her.
    Claire cried out in desperation and ran the other way.
    ***
    She dashed straight into his arms. John grasped her shoulders, helping Claire Talbot regain her balance as she raised her tear-stained face.
    “Oh, John, you must help me. He… He…” She choked and couldn’t finish.
    John fished out his handkerchief and pressed it into her hand. “Hush. I heard. You don’t have to say any more. I’ll make it right. I will.” His heart thumped wildly at such a bold promise, but he couldn’t bear to see her so cut up.
    He’d been looking for Lady Claire when he saw Landry steer her off into this darkened part of the house. He had followed, arriving just behind Lord Bradwell. A frustrating ineptness at confrontation had prevented him from stepping in. He had a hard enough time figuring out what to say when emotions weren’t running so high.
    Putting a hand to her back, he guided her into the nearby silver salon. Faint moonlight shone through the high windows, and Claire sank onto the closest chair and sniffled.
    She was such a pretty girl. He’d been intrigued by her ever since he’d met her two weeks ago but hadn’t been able to say more than a few words at a time to her. Until tonight. Until he’d witnessed her father’s abominable treatment of her.
    John crouched in front of her and skimmed his finger along her lower jaw, catching tears. Damn Landry. And Bradwell. Her father should be calling the baron out, not excusing his behavior.
    “I