A Spy's Honor Read Free Page B

his valise up to the coachman, and while the servant was distracted John beckoned Claire forward. Not wanting the coachman to notice the extra passenger, he closely followed her into the carriage, nearly toppling her. He apologized, but she was giggling as she sat.
    He crowded onto the squab next to her and put his fingers to her mouth. “Shhh.”
    She stilled, leaving his fingers to linger on her lips. While not wafer thin like her sister, she had a fine figure. Despite what her father said, she looked quite splendid in her peach gown with her hair, a soft brown, curled and pinned up. She was curved and rounded in places John could only dream of touching. And he had, many nights running.
    The urge to kiss her coursed through him. He leaned closer…
    Her eyes widened, and he stopped himself. Damnation. She’d just been molested by Landry. How could he even think of kissing her?
    The carriage jolted forward, bouncing them both against the seat. John steadied himself and forced himself to say, “Last chance to change your mind.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t care how upset my father is; his opinions and feelings are no longer my concern. They never should have been in the first place.” She clutched her shawl tighter around her arms. “Home, hearth, and family have never been his priority. His only care has been rambling around the world, exploring this ancient wonder or sailing across that high sea. He destroyed my mother. I should have known he would try to destroy me too.”
    “I’d like to hear about her, if you’d like to tell me.”
    Claire nodded. “I would. My mother was beautiful like Emily and sweet. Well, most of the time. She doted on us, but now I think about it she was always a little distant. She would enthusiastically suggest a walk, but then not talk very much. Or she would make up elaborate rules for a game but then wouldn’t participate when we played.”
    “Do you miss her?” John missed his father terribly. Now all he had was Allerton, who could have been a great brother but instead tried to fill the role of father too. He’d forced John to go to Gentleman Jackson’s boxing club, Angelo’s fencing academy, and rowing on the estate lake all in an attempt to mold him into a Corinthian of the first order. And while he was well-meaning, John had been miserable. He had other interests more pressing than the empty-headed activities of a gentleman. His passion resided in linguistics. He wanted to spend all his time studying the spoken word, not wasting his efforts on being something he wasn’t: the man his brother thought he should be.
    “I do, but even if she were alive nothing would be different. She didn’t possess a very independent nature.” Claire rested her head against the leather seat and closed her eyes. “She loved my father beyond measure, and instead of treasuring that love he crushed it. He left her in Hampshire while he went off carousing, never caring how much pain his absence caused her. She walked on air whenever he came home and then crashed to the depths of misery when he inevitably left again. When she became ill, I wrote him daily, begging him to come back, believing his presence would restore her spirit, restore her health.”
    “Funny,” John said, “how people are never quite what we want them to be. Is that our failing or theirs?” He’d always put the blame on Allerton.
    Claire opened her eyes. “If you love someone, you’ll be what they need.”
    He pondered her words as the carriage rattled into the yard of the coaching inn where they would change vehicles. Should he capitulate and be the blade Allerton wanted him to be? Could he even do it, or was that an impossibility?
    As for romantic love, he was no expert on that subject—yet—but it wouldn’t take much for his soon-to-be wife to capture his heart.
    ***
    At the Green Dragon Inn, Lord John hustled Claire out before the coachman climbed down with his valise, and in a matter of minutes he’d waved