Page 101 of His Wife, the Spy
Annabel snuggled against his chest and pulled the blanket to her chin, which only worked to expose her feet. “We need a longer blanket first.”
We. The word warmed him from the center outward in a way he’d never expected. Jasper pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her disheveled hair. As much as he liked her perfume, he enjoyed the scent of the real her, crisp and slightly sweet, with just enough salt to remind him of a few moments ago. “Certainly.”
When he’d thought about marriage, which wasn’t often, he’d always considered it a necessary thing in a longer line of necessary things. Title. House. Lords. Wife. Children. Done. He’d had a vague idea of what he expected from a wife. Pretty enough to catch attention, smart enough to not be embarrassing, and good enough at running the household. They’d see eachother enough to create a peaceful home and go out enough to be interesting.
Good enough. He’d have had a life that wasgood enough.
Annabel had saved him from that.
His chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe, much less speak. “Dearest?”
“I know you’d hoped Graydon wasn’t involved,” she said at the same time. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged as best he could while reclined against a seat with his arms full of his wife. “I just didn’t figure him for paying the queen’s money to his friends.”
“They aren’t friends.”
“Just because they were arguing? I hate to tell you, but male friends argue more than they have civil conversations. We save civility for other people.” He and Kit fought like devils at times. Perhaps that was because they were related.
“Spencer doesn’t have friends, Jasper. He has chess pieces.” She eased from his hold and straightened, putting them eye to eye. “Not all of us are pawns.”
She was no one’s pawn. He traced a finger down her cheek to the point of her chin. “You believe Spencer has something on Graydon.”
“I know he does.”
Her intelligence and her certainty excited him, but he envied her ability to form coherent thoughts. His brain was still after-sex fuzzy. “What do you know?”
“Jocelyn Fletcher threw Viscount Raines out of her…house for assaulting a girl.”
He liked Jocelyn Fletcher, trusted her, but she was as tenacious about protecting her staff as she was about ensuring her information was accurate. “Annabel, the ladies at the White Rose are paid for sex however their customers want it, within reason. If Raines got heavy-handed—”
“Not a lady, Jasper. Agirl.” She put her finger to his chest. “And it shouldn’t matter who it is. Women have the right to be safe and respected in their own homes, whether they are paid for or bartered off for their dowry.”
The flash in her eyes reminded him of the night she’d scolded him at his own party. He’d suspected even then that, given the chance, she would fly. A smile stretched slowly across his tired face. “Yes, Lady Ramsbury.”
“Don’t patronize me over this. Under the super-fine and the horses, he is a brute and a bully, and—”
He pressed his fingers to her lips, and her breath warmed his fingers. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”
“Spencer was there when Jocelyn banned Raines.”
The road beneath them changed from the park’s gravel to city cobbles, rattling Jasper’s teeth and clattering through his head. He pushed himself upright.
“So he knows what happened.” His mind began to spin. “And he was already backing Graydon’s bid for lord high treasurer.”
“But he was appointed to the Exchequer instead,” Annabel said, continuing the story. “Because the queen wanted the ability to dismiss him if need be.”
God love a woman who understands Parliament.“That position carries a great deal of honor. A scandal could tarnish it.” He thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Getting barred from a brothel is still a weak excuse for blackmail.”
“Not if it ruined his son’s chance to choose the diamond of the Season and her lucrative dowry,” Annabel countered as she angled to face him.
“Which it hasn’t.” Jasper squared off against her, rising to the battle.
“They aren’t married yet,” Annabel said. “She may surprise you.”
A shadow crossed her eyes, merely a flicker but enough to raise questions. “Annabel?”
She shook her head. “We will not use this story in our scheme.”
