Page 60 of His Wife, the Spy
She was likely the only rabbit in Britain who hoped she was devoured. But was that wise, given her purpose in his house?
Was he a spy?
She’d found nothing to indicate it, and Jasper didn’t appear to be hiding anything from her. No door was locked, no question unanswered. He’d even given her free access to his finances and his correspondence.
No Society husband did that, did he?
Of course, he wouldn’t write his schemes in his ledgers, and he could have his private mail sent to his office at Parliament or to White’s. And if he wasn’t a spy, then he’d spent all last evening with another woman after promising, in church, to be faithful toher.
Most Society husbands did that.
But then again, she’d made promises, in church, while working as a spy. She’d turned their marriage contract into a negotiation to benefit her family, and she kept the door locked between their bedrooms. She’d eventoldhim he could have a mistress.
With a disgusted snort, Annabel tossed the fabric aside.
“Are you all right, dearest?”
She met her husband’s gaze. Perhaps she should just ask him.Are you betraying your country for the love of a French widow I want you to reject for me?
Jasper would answer, but it would also open the door for him to ask her the same question, and Annabel wouldn’t be dishonest. Not the best trait for a spy, she knew, but she was a horrible liar. Her eyes always betrayed her.
He winked at her.
She didn’t want to tell him the truth tonight.
“I find myself out of sorts this evening.” She returned her embroidery to the basket at her feet and stood. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Barnes was already waiting for her upstairs, and Annabel wondered if they taught lady’s maids some sort of translocation spell.
Annabel watched herself in the mirror as propriety was removed layer by layer, leaving her naked for only a moment before her nightdress, made of cotton as fine as silk, floated over her head.
She didn’t want to be hidden her whole life, naked for only a moment and only when it was someone’s job or when she was alone. Never touched as Jasper had done this afternoon.
But what if—
Enough.
Barnes reached for her hairpins, and irritation shivered down Annabel’s spine. “Thank you, Barnes. I’ll finish from here.” She met the maid’s wide-eyed stare in the mirror. “It’s nothing. I’d just like to be alone.”
The older woman squeezed her shoulder, her smile full of pity. “I understand, my lady.”
The door closed and Annabel risked another look at her reflection, finding a woman who wanted to be anything but alone. Her eyes always gave her away.
She unpinned her hair and unwound her braids.
“You have never listened to anyone other than yourself,” she said to the woman in the mirror. “Your instincts have never betrayed you.” She’d known Chippenham was a cad the moment he touched her on the dance floor. In a sea of gossip full of silk-clad sharks, she’d found true and loyal friends. “What doyouthink of him?”
Jasper’s irreverence was contagious. She had laughed more since the house party than she had in months. It was freeing, like racing down the hill with her heart thudding in time to her horse’s hooves. She lacked for nothing, but she was also valued. He didn’t love her, but he acted as though he liked her. He certainlywantedher.
Her nipples drew tight against her nightdress. She definitely wanted him.
Was he dangerous? Yes, he was. He was intelligent, observant, and disarming. But, more than that, the pleasure he offered required her to reach for it, and she believed freedomwaited on the other side of it. Finding that, only to lose it, would be devastating. Never reaching for it, however, would be tragic.
She smacked the brush to her dressing table, making the hairpins jump. “Your husband is not a traitor.”
The words soaked through her, and they felt right. True. They brought along an emotion that also felt true, one she didn’t dare acknowledge.
A breath of air fluttered the hem of her nightdress against her ankles. Annabel turned to find Jasper in the open doorway between their rooms, staring at his hand on the knob.
