Sweet Treason (Entangled Ignite) Read Free

too.
    Risking death at the hand of a spy, or hanging when the captain discovered her muddy clothes in the cloak room, she nodded. “But of course you must search. A man has his duty, after all.” She made a move to swing the door open to admit him, then stopped when the pressure against her spine increased and the hand moved to her waist to draw her closer. The spy’s cold, rain-sodden cloak pressed against her back, and she shivered. She wedged the door with one foot to keep it from opening wider. “Oh, one small matter, Captain.”
    “What would that be, miss?”
    “My housekeeper. I think it is the pox. That’s why I thought you were the physician, you see. We sent for him hours ago. Still, if you must search, you must do so now, as we may be under quarantine once the doctor arrives.”
    “The pox? Are you certain?” The captain took several steps backward.
    “I assure you most earnestly, sir, there is something pernicious present in this house. Pox would aptly describe it.” The spy’s arm tightened almost painfully around her. “It could be a rather nasty rash. In all, though, I’ve never seen poison oak make such marks or cause such fever. Have you ever seen pox before, Captain? Would you know it if you saw it now?”
    “No! I’ve not seen anything like it.” The captain backed away, drawing his soldiers with him. “I…did you say you had heard nothing, miss?”
    “Just poor Mary’s crying.”
    “I see,” he muttered, looking baffled by the odd set of circumstances.
    “I hate to hurry you, sir, but the physician will surely arrive soon. ’Twill be best to have a search done by then, should he choose to quarantine Oak Hill. Else you’ll be stuck here for heaven only knows how long, and we haven’t enough to feed and shelter you all.”
    “Perhaps, if you assured me there is naught amiss?”
    “Assure you? But of course. Have I not? There is no one here of consequence, Captain—only servants and the like.”
    “Very well, then,” the captain conceded. “Send to us if you hear aught of interest.”
    “I shall, Captain. Are you going to look about the grounds? I fear we are out of oil for the lanterns. Did you bring your own?”
    “That will not be necessary, miss. I can see that you have the situation well in hand and have quite enough trouble already. We must be on our way. The spy escapes even as we dawdle.”
    Emily nodded and waited while they disappeared into the rain. She closed the door and leaned her forehead against it. Her knees were weak, and her heart was racing. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved to have the soldiers gone or afraid now that she was at the mercy of a murderous spy. She threw the bolt, listening to the departing hoof beats.
    The spy’s breath tickled as he whispered in her ear. “Very nice, miss. You were quite remarkable with those soldiers. I’ve seldom met a man or woman who can think as quickly as you. Nevertheless, it would be best if I allowed them a good lead in the event they decide to search the grounds after all. I shall pass ten minutes here, no more. You have my word that I shall leave promptly and never return.”
    Her back still to him, she asked, “Is the word of a traitor and a murderer to be trusted?”
    There was a long, tense pause before the spy replied, “The man I killed was about to betray me. He was responsible for the deaths of several of my comrades. I do not kill for sport, miss, but I will kill for the cause if I must.
    “Come,” he urged. “I only require ten minutes. I will try to keep you amused. Did I glimpse wine in the library and a bowl of fruit? I am famished. All I ask, miss, is that you not turn around. I cannot risk that you could recognize me.”
    Never mind that from this day forward, she’d recognize that deep, honeyed voice with its colonial accent anywhere. There was something quite distinctive about the soft slow speech—though there was nothing soft or slow about the man—and she knew she would not