Page 87 of While You Were Spying

Selbourne. Ethan’s half brother.

“Miss Dashing,” Ethan said, moving to stand beside her. “May I present my brother, the Earl of Selbourne, and your neighbor from Grayson Park.”

Francesca curtsied. Selbourne bowed and took her hand. It was all very formal for the middle of the night. She ignored Ethan’s mocking formal tone and smiled into his brother’s cool gray eyes. She’d seen Selbourne before, but now, face-to-face, the resemblance between the two men became even more apparent. Selbourne was still smiling, but his eyes, unlike Ethan’s, held no warmth, no hint of burnished fire. They were steely gray mirrors that seemed to reflect more than they absorbed. His gaze on her was unnerving.

“My lord,” she murmured.

“Selbourne, the Honorable Miss Francesca Dashing.”

“Miss Dashing,” Selbourne said, kissing her hand coolly then releasing it. “This is an unexpected pleasure.” The expression on his face told her he considered it more unexpected than a pleasure.

He glanced at Ethan, and there was a silent exchange between the brothers, the kind, having two siblings herself, Francesca understood well.

Ethan cleared his throat. “I’ll see you at the ball next week, then?”

“I’ll come in from...London for it.” Selbourne ran a hand through his hair, and Francesca didn’t fail to notice the pause and the tightness in his voice around the wordLondon.

Selbourne lifted his hat to her. “Goodbye, Miss Dashing.”

She hadn’t expected him to offer his felicitations on their betrothal as she was certain he knew it to be a ruse.

“And don’t trust him.” Selbourne cocked his head at Ethan. “He’s the black sheep of the family.” His gray eyes were almost blue with the warmth of his affection for his brother—warmth that had been missing before.

Francesca couldn’t help but smile at him, seeing now why so many women found Selbourne attractive.

“Thank you for the warning. I must admit—” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I’ve heard he’s a bad man.”

And she would know, after the firsthand experience she’d had with his debauched ways not twelve hours before.

Beside her, Ethan chuckled, and she prayed he wasn’t remembering her behavior in the tack room.

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“CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.” Selbourne pushed his hat on his head and pulled it low. “Winter. Miss Dashing.” Then adjusting his voluminous greatcoat, he turned and strode through the French doors and into the storm.

Twenty-two

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