The Duchess and the Spy Read Free

wolves.”
    “I have dealt with worse, dearest. Come now. Do wish me luck.” She held Daphne’s hand once her hair had been arranged. “Don’t be sore at me. I’m doing what I have to do! Take heart, dearest, for Boney shall lavish me with everything I have ever desired. Most importantly, the De Clermont dynasty will live again!” Hugging Daphne quickly, she pulled away, dashed to her bedchamber door.
    “Wait!”
    Isabella stopped and looked back at Daphne.
    “You forgot your mask! Don’t you know you’re going to a bal masque?”
    She laughed. “Of course, of course, all the more reason to wear this revealing dress. If he can’t see the full effect of my facial features, he must be impressed with my other more tantalizing charms.”
    Napoleon tempted fate by allowing a bal masque to be held in his honour because many believed they were events that begged a tragedy. They feared he would be the victim of an assassination. She held the glittering gold mask up to her face.
    “How do I look?”
    “You look as if you’re going to find trouble,” Daphne lamented.
    She chuckled. “Never fear. I am rather good at finding and getting into trouble. Fortunately, I am also rather adept at getting out of that trouble.” She swept out of her chambers, and immediately tensed.
    The sound of fervent whispers met her keen ears. She held her breath. A shiver washed over her. The shadows beckoned to her. The shadows always chased her. She was lucky to have enough light within her to force them into submission.
    “Who goes there? Show yourself!” A man barked in a husky voice that told her he was deepening it to conceal his true accent.
    A large silhouette cast a long shadow along the length of the opposite wall. The second figure shifted, and then ran as if the very hounds of Hades chased him. Warm sensations rushed through her.
    Whomever the person was that had fled, posed no imminent danger to her…but they had fled for a reason. Perhaps, they had done so to avoid her recognition? She shook her head. It suddenly felt cloudy, and she became almost sleepy—she had to snap herself out of it!
    “You shouldn’t tarry long, Isabella,” the remaining man said, with a familiarity that made an electric tingle sweep through her.
    She narrowed her gaze.
    How had he known her name?
    “Who are you?”
    “You ask too many questions, my dear. I am someone from your past. I have been watching you for quite some time, Duchess.”
    Apprehension tickled along her scalp. Her hair nearly stood on end. “I do not recognize your voice,” she said, her insides went soft as his voice continued to lull her into a state of near submission. If his voice had power over her, what would she do if he attempted to make physical contact? She narrowed her eyes, as she tried to make out his facial features. He struck a stunning profile. Power emanated off him.
    What’s more, his height impressed her. He towered over her. And since she stood at a stately five feet eight inches, he was well over six feet. His hair blended in with the darkness. A shiver of anticipation rippled through her. This man stood on the path of her true destiny. The question was, what role would he play?
    “Becoming the little Corsican’s courtesan…wouldn’t be a good idea, Isabella.” His smooth velvety rich husky voice rattled her already strained nerves.
    Why couldn’t she summon her power of projection? She should have been able to tame the beast that stood near her. Using her empathic abilities, she tried to gain control on manipulating his emotions. His chilling coldness toward her made her uneasy, even though she could feel something altogether different emanating off of him. She clung to her belief that this man was meant to cross paths with her tonight. Something about him made her want to throw herself at him. The practical side of her warred with the fun-loving side of her.
    “Your words, sir, are a mystery to me.”
    “Ah, of course, the old avoid and