Page 58 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
Her head snapped around.“He told me.And he willnotbe one of your spies.”
Memories rushed in.His bungling of a mission had ruined this woman’s life.
Her revenge was to steal the painting from him.She blamed him for her brother’s death.Hell, he blamed himself.
They were so alike, both of them holding their secrets close through the decades, waiting patiently for the chance to settle a score.
He didn’t give a damn about the blasted painting.He’d give it to her, except that he needed it a bit longer to deal with the Duque.
“Did you hear what I said, Shaldon?”
What she said?
“My son will not be one of your spies.”
He squeezed her waist.“No, he won’t.I do not think he has the constitution for the work.”
That caught her up and she swallowed whatever she was about to say.
“Your son, I believe, is too honorable for deception, much like his mother.”
She shook her head.“You are forgetting my most recent theft, as well as the last twenty-five years.”
“No, Jane.I always wondered why Cheswick never found you a husband.Now I know.You wouldn’t present yourself to a man as an innocent, or hand over to a careless husband the funds that supported your child, or abandon the boy while you busied yourself with a new family.You practiced no deception.You merely kept a private matter private and honored your duty.”
A shudder rolled through her and she leaned stiffly away from him.
He admired her obstinacy, though she hadn’t yet realized his determination.Each act of resistance merely put them one step closer to her surrender.“As for the so-called theft, I understand all about that.I will help him, Jane, and you.”
“Will you?Or, once you have the painting, will you send Quentin off on one of your missions and have me hanged?”
His wife would never hang, nor would her son ever make a spy.
Once you have the painting…Surely, she couldn’t know all of his plans?
He’d underestimated her before.
His heart stirred, and he squashed a smile.“You willnotbe accused of theft.You don’t have the painting, is that correct?”
“You know that I entrusted it to Guignard.”
“With Madame’s help.”He cleared his throat.“There you have it.”
She gasped.“You cannot mean to prosecutethem?”
What a loyal creature she was.The idea had never crossed his mind.Still, he enjoyed poking her, and it was better for her to arrive with a high color from anger than weepy with worry.
He eyed her silently.
“If you try that, Shaldon, I shall turn myself in to the authorities and confess.”
He squeezed her again.“Kincaid informed me that Guignard wouldn’t tell you where the painting was located.”Leaning closer, he whispered “What if it can’t be found?”
Her lip trembled and he was instantly remorseful.
“Do not worry about your son,” he said.
She sighed.“Well, I suppose if it can’t be found, the treasure it maps will stay at the bottom of the sea, and then the Duque will come afterme.”
