Page 55 of The Viscount's Seduction
Rebellion stirred in her. This was how it was when one was married. The husband decided what one would and would not do.
She would, of course, try again to find Donegal, though whether she was willing to lead him to Shaldon and Kincaid was an open question. Perhaps not. If he was but an Irishman seeking freedom, she couldn’t wholly condemn him to the English Secret Service. And she wouldn’t discuss any of this with Shaldon, not without speaking first to Bakeley.
Ifshe decided to discuss the matter with Bakeley at all. Wife or not, he wouldn’t control her in that way.
“Perhaps you could tell us something about this Donegal,” she said.
Kincaid jumped into the breach again. “He’s said to be Irish. Believed to have left Ireland about the same time as your brother, possibly on the same ship. Where he went then, we don’t know, but he resurfaced in Scotland two years ago.”
Her brain muddled through the calculations. “That’s more than ten years since he vanished.” And on the same ship as Jamie? The one that sunk? Was he tied up in Jamie’s supposed death?
A chill went through her. Donegal had promised a meeting and not shown up, and perhaps sent that crowd of ruffians after her. “Is he…do you believe he’s dangerous?”
“Yes.” Shaldon spoke. “And quite elusive.”
She wanted to ask what he had in mind. She wanted to say more.
Bakeley gripped her hand like she was sliding off the side of the Honey Bee herself and about to fall into roiling waters, which she would, if she loosened her tongue and spoke her mind.
She hadn’t survived the years of her father’s drunkenness, or the assault by the new Lord of Glenmorrow, or her months of serving Lady Jane without being able to hold her tongue a little. Aye, and wouldn’t marriage and the care and feeding of a titled husband and his treacherous father present new opportunities for keeping silent?
Perhaps Shaldon would say more without her there. She wouldn’t work for the Spy Lord, not against good Irish people, and she didn’t know just what Donegal was yet.
But she knew what she was. ’Twas the sad truth, no matter how many horses she’d bred and trained, she was but a woman, made specially valueless by her lack of a dowry.
Bakeley turned his gaze on her, and her heart did a jig. Valueless, she was, but he’d taken her anyway. Perhaps…perhaps if she handled this husband correctly, he truly would help her.
“Well, then. I’ll go and say my thanks to Lord and Lady Hackwell, and leave you to discuss this matter with your father.” She stood, and so did Bakeley and her new father-in-law.
Her husband moved by her side to the door. “I shall be along directly,” he murmured.
She nodded. “Counting on it, I am.” She leaned in and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Find out everything.”
